#I won’t and I don’t think you should either
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I’m gonna loosely rant without direction for a minute.
I’ve been thinking a lot about being trans and religious in the last few days. I’m not exactly sure why. It’s just that this one thing keeps coming back to haunt me.
I’ve been happier and closer to God than ever before since I started transitioning. Never once have I felt that God had a problem with me being trans. My soul feels cleaner, happier, more open to the Holy Spirit even with all the other problems and anxieties in my life taken into account because even in my darkest moments now I’m still being my full self.
The thing that’s been bothering me is all these people out there who think I’m doing religion wrong because I’m not being who God made me to be or something when I feel like I’m being more of who God made me to be every day I get further away from the closet. God made my spirit and my mind just as much as he made my body so why is my body supposed to be the only factor in that?
What really bothers me is that people want me to give up what makes me happy, what strengthened my faith even, and go back to being sad and disconnected. And for what? Believing their interpretation of God is more valid than mine? For their comfort that’s for some reason more important than my comfort?
I would really like to work in a church or a religious college. I really would. But jobs with accepting congregations are few and far between. I feel like I have to spend my life moving between safe islands. I need to find my safe pockets and keep other Christians at a distance. And I hate that I have to do that. It weighs so heavily on me sometimes that they don’t believe my faith story.
I used to be the sort of person who would jump up and share my faith story at every opportunity with other Christians because I’m a convert that has stuck with my faith even through hard times. People love that shit. But now that my gender is a part of my story I feel like I either need to keep my mouth shut or lie. And I don’t want to lie so I keep my mouth shut.
I don’t really have a point to this I guess. I just wish I didn’t need to play a balancing act in order to be a queer Christian. Act less religious in queer spaces, act less queer in Christian spaces. There’s such small pockets of life I can fully be both in happily and loudly with no friction from other people.
Because all the friction between my faith and my queerness has always always come from other people. Never from my beliefs, never from my gender, never from my God. Other people. Other people keep trying to insert themselves in between me and God and go hey that’s not right you should feel bad about that. But like. I don’t. I can’t. I won’t and you can’t make me. The thing making me feel bad is that other people want me to feel bad. Other people want me to be miserable for their convenience. I hate that. That’s the worst bit for me about being queer and Christian. Is learning just how little other people value the happiness of strangers.
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Dan being forced to go to anger management therapy hosted by Harley Quinn.
(I refuse to believe that Dan would be forced into anything, so this is a Dan in Arkham AU lmao)
Wraith huffed angrily. “And that’s why he deserves pain and suffering.”
Harley stared at him in fascination, tapping a finger on her lips. It had been weeks after their breakout from Arkham, and Wraith was quickly becoming a good friend of the Sirens. It had reached a point where now, he was spilling his secrets over a glass of wine (stolen from a Bruce Wayne-endorsed party), about a boy he used to be and the timeline he came from.
It wasn’t the weirdest thing ever, since this was Gotham after all, but it was still both disturbing and thralling.
Harley could not help but stare as Wraith grumbled to himself, blue eyes flashing crimson and sharp fangs being bared in a snarl. Then she asked, “Did your sister ever say anything about this?”
Wraith huffed and swirled his wine lightly. “She said it’s a form of self-hatred. Because I blame myself for our family’s deaths, I blame Danny too. But I don’t care. We are the same person but we are not the same. He is still human, while I have transcended past mankind to be something greater.” His fingers clenched on the stem of the wine glass. “It’s not fair how he gets to be happy, but I can’t.”
A god complex, a superiority complex, and an inferiority complex, all born from the loss of family and self-identity. His psyche was absolutely damaged by his previous experiences, and trauma had made him into something very, very twisted. It was probably true that he was not human anymore, but it was so interesting how he had abandoned his humanity so thoroughly and thrown it aside.
“You can’t?” Harley asked. “Or you won’t?”
Wraith’s expression twisted. “I can’t.”
That didn’t seem right.
He was happy when eating red meat and drinking expensive wine. He was rather happy when they went shopping and included him in their jokes and games. He was plenty happy when he talked about his sisters. He was very happy when interacting with Nightwing, who seemed to effortlessly peel away his layers to reveal a playful, gentle personality that did not seem to be a facade.
“You seem happy around Nightwing,” Harley said. “And us. What do you think of that?”
Wraith glared at her lightly, but he didn’t seem angry, not like how he was when he talked about his little brother, his other self. The venom in his voice and eyes when he talked about his younger self would’ve been better deserved if he was talking about the Anti-Christ, but Harley didn’t voice this.
“Nightwing has the purest soul in this world. It’s strong and beautiful because of how kind it is. It should be a crime to be cruel to it, not when he’s so… good.” His expression gentled and he swirled his wine again before taking a sip. “And you and the others are… nice to me. I don’t want to spoil your fun.”
Harley beamed. “Aww, we like you too, Wraith-y poo!”
Wraith rolled his eyes and took another sip. Harley poured him some more without him asking, and they drank their wine in silence.
Eventually, Harley said, “It’s not healthy to hate yourself so much, y’know? Maybe you don’t want advice, but I think your sister would agree with me. You should let go of the past and live in the present. That timeline doesn’t exist anymore, does it?”
Wraith scowled. “It may not exist anymore, but I came from that timeline. I am who I am because of my family’s deaths and because of Danny.” The hatred in his voice was deep and potent, making Harley shiver. “It can never let me go and I can never let it go either. The past shaped me in ways that cannot be undone.”
Harley took a sip of wine to think. Then she said, “Well. No matter what, me and the girls are here for you. And I think Nightwing really likes you too! Really!”
Wraith hummed, eyes half lidded before he turned and looked at her with a quirk to his lips like a small, genuine smile. “Yes, I know. Thank you, Harley.”
She grinned. “No problem!”
They continued drinking together in companionable silence.
#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#danny phantom x dc#dp x dc crossover#ask#anon ask#dark danny#dan phantom#dan fenton#harley quinn#dick x dan#bad humor ship#ty for the ask!#dan in arkham au#dick grayson#jazz fenton#danny fenton
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𝗜𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝘿𝙔𝙉𝘼𝙈𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏?!
Word Count: 1.2k
Content contains: pro-hero bakugo being a career man. mentions of katsuki having an s/o! I hope these ideas capture his fiery, no-nonsense personality while also showing how much he’s grown into a reliable and inspiring hero.
prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who when every time someone mispronounces his hero name, he snaps and shouts “It’s DY-NA-MIGHT, not ‘Dynamo’ or whatever crap you just said! Learn how to read, damn it!”
prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who has a rigorous training schedule. Yes, cooking breakfast and cuddle time with his s/o is part of that schedule nevertheless. Even as a pro, Bakugo starts his day with a 5:00 a.m. workout. His mornings include explosive quirk drills, which terrify his neighbors, but he refuses to apologize because, “Heroes don’t take days off, morons.” He does try to keep it down a notch when he heard through his neighbors' kid that they were thinking about moving houses.
prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who insists on being on the frontlines for every mission, no matter the scale. He’s the first to charge in during a disaster and won’t leave until every civilian is accounted for. “If I’m not giving 100%, why the hell am I here?” And you better know that everyone appreciated him for his selfless actions.
Prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who is efficient to a fault. His rescue operations are insanely effective but intimidating. He’ll shout at panicked civilians to “Move your asses, idiot!” but then carry them out of danger with precision and speed. Later, when they thank him, he awkwardly mutters, “Yeah, whatever. That's what I'm here for anyway. Just don’t get stuck again.”
prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who has a signature explosion mark. After saving the day, he always leaves behind a controlled, smoky explosion shaped like his logo—an orange starburst with jagged edges. Kids love it and call it his “hero stamp.” He just did it one time because y/n liked the idea of him having something like a bat-signal, it became like a routine for him.
prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who's surprisingly good with kids. He didn’t expect it either, but kids adore him. When they swarm him for autographs, he grumbles, “You better not smudge this!” but secretly loves the attention. He even kneels down to their level so they can high-five him. It did took him time to warm up to them after some thought, he wanted to be like how All Might was when he was a kid.
prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who is strict with his sidekicks. Bakugo’s sidekicks are the most well-trained in the industry because he pushes them relentlessly. He shouts, “If you can’t handle this, you’re wasting my damn time!” but always ensures they’re prepared for real missions.
prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who still has an unspoken rivalry with Deku, and everyone in general, but now it’s about who saves more people. Bakugo keeps a tally and texts deku, “Took down 8 villains today. What’s your number, nerd?”
prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who personally oversees every modification to his hero costume, from grenade gauntlets to lightweight boots. If the support team messes up, he’ll fix it himself, muttering, “If you can't do it right, I'll do it myself.” This causes his support team to work twice harder next time.
prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who has workaholic tendencies. He rarely takes time off, claiming, “Villains don’t go on vacation, so why should I?” His s/o and his entire agency forces him to relax. Needless to say, his s/o alone can convince him. Even then, he’s still scanning news reports for emergencies.
prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who is an emergency quirk strategist. Bakugo has a knack for coming up with split-second strategies in the middle of chaos. He’ll bark orders to other heroes, and while they’re annoyed at his tone, they follow him because he’s always right. Other heroes learned it the hard way one time when they didn't follow his 'suggestion' and ended up making the situation worse.
prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who gets tons of fan letters and gets flustered reading them. One of his fellow heroes suggested for him to buy a shredder, but you know damn well he flipped them off. He gets tons of fan mail, but he has no idea how to respond. He also did not know what to do with them until his s/o opted to help him with this problem. Sometimes he’ll scribble a quick “Thanks” with a little explosion doodle and hope it’s enough, his s/o would be the one to arrange and mail them.
prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who is devoted to his parents. Bakugo visits his parents regularly, bringing them little gifts like flowers for his mom (which she teases him about) and bunch of snacks and clothing pieces for his dad. He even helps fix things around their house during his rare free time. He makes sure his sidekicks and secretary knows when to remind him to call them during breaks.
prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who has is looked up to by other pros for his emergency evacuation drills. When Bakugo’s agency holds safety drills, his team wins every time. He calls it “real hero training” and will go all-out to make sure everyone’s prepared.
prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who was invited one time to attend a charity by ochako and it became something he does everytime. While he’s not a fan of public speaking, Bakugo attends charity events because he believes in helping beyond hero work. He’ll reluctantly auction off items like “Bakugo’s autographed gauntlet,” secretly donating extra money because “those kids need it more.”
prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who is an incredible loyal team leader. Bakugo might be tough on his team, but he’s fiercely protective of them. He is especially protective of his interns, some of them referring to him as the older brother they never had. If a villain hurts one of his sidekicks, you better know he’ll go all-out to take them down while yelling, “You don’t touch my people!”
prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who built his own agency to be one of the best heor agency headquarter there is. His agency is a sleek, well-organized base equipped with cutting-edge tech and a training ground. The office is always clean because he enforces “No slacking off!” rules, even for janitorial staff. In his hq, he made sure that there is one room dedicated for his s/o.
prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who became an unintentional role model. Despite his rough personality, students and new heroes look up to Bakugo because of his dedication and success. He doesn’t know how to handle compliments and usually responds with, “Stop wasting time and go do your damn job!”
prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who mastered using small, precise explosions for rescues—blasting through rubble without causing harm or creating paths for civilians. It’s become his trademark move, and no one does it better.
prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who's explosive personality makes him a media favorite, but he hates interviews. When forced to participate, he answers in blunt one-liners like, “Villains suck, so don’t do crime.” Although he did receive criticism at the start of hero career because of his brash attitude, but that's all.
prohero!Katsuki Bakugo who knows how to separate his personal life from his career so well that some fans were surprised when he revealed in an interview that he was already married. He proudly showed off his wedding band, telling his interviewer that he was a happy married man.
ᓚᘏᗢ @deprivedreality 2023 | all rights reserved.
#deprivedreality ─ blogs#deprivedreality ─ my hero academia#katsuki bakugou#katsuki bakugo mha#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo imagine#katsuki bakugo headcanons#bakugo headcanons#prohero bakugo#my hero academia headcanons#mha bakugou#bnha bakugou#bnha#adult bakugo katsuki#dynamight
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fun police - 5
The next week came, but as soon as Emily arrived, someone in her office was waiting to meet with her. Then that meeting ran into another meeting somewhere else in the building. And another meeting turned into another– so many meetings that she hadn’t even been in her office for more than 10 minutes. So when Y/n found the sticky note pressed against her office door asking to reschedule for later that evening she was pleasantly surprised. It seemed their last session may have had a more positive influence than she had anticipated. Not only was the older woman taking the initiative to reschedule but she was also willing to meet outside of the typical office job hours. Now if Emily was finally coming around, this was going to make her job a lot easier.
So when evening struck Y/n found herself knocking at Emily’s open doorway with a smile. “Boy, you’re one hard woman to catch.” she teased as she came to a stop in front of Emily’s desk. The older woman ran a hand through her hair and leveled Y/n with an unamused glare. “Oof, tough crowd.” Y/n winced as she watched the older woman carefully.
Emily rolled her eyes and moved to shut down her computer with a sigh, “Thank you for agreeing to meet later, I know it’s not the most convenient but I appreciate it.”
“Of course, I’m just glad you still wanted to meet today. I figured you’d take the opportunity to skip and run with it.” Y/n shrugged. “But either way with the way I imagine your day going, it might be good to have someone help you unwind before heading home for the night.”
Emily scoffs and looks at the case files piled in her inbox, “That’s if I make it home,” she mumbled before looking back to the younger woman wistfully. “But, yes. Yes, that would be very helpful.”
Y/n tsked almost instantly at Emily’s words and circled the desk. “Well that just won’t do.” Emily watched as the woman confidently reached around her body to sift through the files on her desk. “All of these can definitely wait till tomorrow. It’s not like the budget for the next five years is going to implode if you don’t finish it tonight.”
Emily swatted at the younger woman’s hands as she tried to pull the file closer to herself, “That’s confidential.” The older woman pushed the files further up her desk and turned her chair to face Y/n directly. The proximity of their bodies dawned on Emily a little too late. And as quickly as she registered it, it’s all she could think about. Still sitting in her desk chair, her eyes were level with the wellness counselor’s hips and she fought hard to move her eyes to a more appropriate place. But the further her eyes rose, the more distracted she became. Her mouth dried and the heat seemed to kick in and her hands subconsciously pulled her collar away from her neck. Y/n’s hands came down in Emily’s peripheral and settled on her hips. And if Emily was looking at her face, she’s positive she could see the attitude working it’s way across her forehead. After three sessions, observing the younger woman around the office, and all she’d heard from the team– she knew a witty quip was coming her way. With that in mind, she finally settled her eyes on Y/n’s face. Furrowed eyebrows and quirked lips. She kissed her teeth and rolled her eyes and gazed down at Emily.
“Bold of you to assume that would have any effect on me. So what if I see a bunch of nonsensical numbers, what would I even do with that?”
“Well it should,” Emily grumbled. “This is the FBI after all.”
“It’s not like you’d turn me in.” Y/n challenged bending at the waist to bring her eyes level with Emily’s. “You won’t admit it, but you like me far too much to do that.”
“Well that’s absurd. And bold of you to believe.”
“Well, yes. Bold and correct.”
Emily glared and moved to respond but her desk phone ringing had her clamping her mouth shut. She held a finger up and answered the call and she could see Y/n heading to sit on the couch with her arms crossed. As soon as the receiver was back on the hook Y/n was reprimanding.
“See this is your problem— why are you answering your phone after hours? Who could possibly want something from you right now?”
Emily’s cheeks blazed under the scrutiny but she rolled her shoulders back and tried to speak confidently, “That was Gary from the lobby. I figured the least I could do after holding you hostage tonight would be to buy you dinner.”
“Huh,” Y/n sounded, resting on her knees thoughtfully.“How kind of you Agent Prentiss.” The younger woman replied fighting down the urge to giggle nervously as her cheeks reddened.
-
“Well thank you for dinner, that was very sweet of you.” Y/n smiled at Emily as they walked through the parking garage. Emily nodded and rubbed at the nape of her neck self-consciously. This session had definitely been different from her others and as they came to a halt in front of a car Emily couldn’t ignore how romantic the night was feeling.
“Of course, it’s the least I could do after keeping you here well past your typical hours.”
“Well I appreciate it,” Y/n said, sweeping her eyes over the older woman to assess her. “And despite the bickering in the beginning, I feel like this session was a successful one for us.”
Emily scoffed, “And how’d you get that?”
“Well I got you out of the door for the night, didn’t I? Keep this up and you might even get to move to bi-weekly meetings or maybe even monthly!” y/n smirked triumphantly.
“Yeah yeah yeah, you got lucky.” Emily rebuffed with a roll of her eyes. She fought the frown that started to take form at the mention of less sessions. Had she really changed enough that Y/n thought she didn’t need the weekly session?
“Well maybe I should go buy a lottery ticket then,” Y/n teased Emily, frowning all the same. She leaned closer, placing her hand on the outside of Emily’s arm. She squeezed at her bicep softly and let her hand trail her arm before stepping toward her car. “Alright, I’ll leave you be. Thank you again and Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” Emily watched as the younger woman disappeared behind the wheel of her car and then turned to climb into her own vehicle. Her arm was tingling beneath her coat and her eyes were trained on the car across the lot. And as the car left she still sat. And suddenly the urge to be bad at wellness seemed oddly appealing.
#emily prentiss x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#emily prentiss#fun police#msschemmenti
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Hi hi , I've been really wanting a fic with reader/mc having a smaller chest and her being insecure about it
Do you think the LADS men will care about her size or love her regardless?
Thanks!!
a/n: thank you for sending in a request, anon! i hope you enjoy the boys' reaction and i'm sorry for caleb's abrupt ending but it's midnight where i'm from and i'm very sleepy :(
Sylus:
“I’m not coming out!”
Sylus sighs heavily as he robs the spot between his eyes. As much as he loves Y/N, she is very stubborn. Usually, he tolerates such behavior and enjoys seeing her reactions when he teasers but today, he’s just so tired.
They’ve been shopping all morning for the perfect dress for a dinner party they’re invited to this Friday night. Feet sore, head throbbing from the loud and obnoxious music playing and stomach rumbling with hunger, Sylus has half a mind to snatch Y/N and return home to the comfort of his dark and quiet home. Screw the party and the perfect dress. Y/N has a walk-in closet full of pretty dresses and outfits. A new one is completely unnecessary.
“Sweety,” Sylus sighs, “You’ve been in there for fifteen minutes. Either come out or we’re going home.” he tries to sound as gentle as he can to hide his frustrations but Sylus is at his limit.
At that moment, a sweet voice, one that is no doubt concealing a similar exhaustion Sylus is experiencing, asks from above, “May I help you with anything, sir?”
Looking up, Sylus meets the questioning gaze of a salesperson standing next to the leather chair he’s sitting on. The smile on her lips is tight but to an untrained eyes, it will come off as an easy going and friendly smile.
Wanting to end this torturous day, Sylus just points at the fitting room Y/N is in, “She won’t come out.
The woman nods her head. The raging storm of determination radiating takes Sylus aback. He watches, marveled, as the woman knocks on the door and, somehow, manages to convince Y/N to step out.
“I don’t like it.” Y/N pouts, using her arms to shield her chests.
Sylus lifts his eyebrow. It’s rare for him to see Y/N acting so shy. Especially after being together for a long time.
“May I ask why?” The salesperson asks, eyes examining what Y/N is wearing.
Glancing between the woman and Sylus, Y/N reluctantly uncrosses her arms. “I hate…this.” she gestures at the top she’s wearing.
“What’s wrong with it?”
Y/N frowns as she explains, “It’s something a woman with a…larger chest should wear. Not me.” she finishes her statement with a mutter towards the end.
Sylus’ thick line of his eyebrows jump in surprise. He has never heard Y/N be so insecure about herself before. Sure, she’ll complain about having a bad hair day or make a criticizing comment about some of her pictures but those are normal things. He has never seen her be so self conscious that she’s hiding her beauty.
“That’s because you’re wearing a bigger size.” The salesperson calmly explains, “It needs to be smaller.”
“I can’t go any smaller, this is my size!” Sylus knows that Y/N didn’t mean to shriek but she tends to forget to control her tone of voice when she’s frustrated.
“I understand that, miss.” Calm as the sea, the woman further explains, “This top is meant to compliment a woman’s chest regardless of their size. That’s why you have to go two sizes smaller.”
Y/N stares at the woman with doubt. She bites her lower lip in contemplation before agreeing to the suggestion.
“There, that looks much better.” The salesperson states after Y/N changes into a smaller size.
And true to her words, the built in cups push her smaller chest upwards, making them look bigger and fuller. Y/N is glowing with delight as she pays for her top and maxi length skirt.
On their drive home, Sylus stays silent.
It’s only when they’re home where Y/N is steaming her new clothes with a happy tune that Sylus’ asks, “Since when has this been an issue?”
Glancing at him, Y/N tilts her head.
“Your chest.” Sylus clarifies.
Shame washes over Y/N in waves as heat warms her cheeks in embarrassment, “I don’t know she shrugs.
“Y/N.”
Unable to avoid answering the question since Sylus used his deep and commanding voice as Onychinus’ leader, Y/N replies, “I just thought…you might not like them anymore.” Her voice grows quiet with each word.
“What?” Sylus gawks at her. For the third time that day, Y/N has taken her by surprise. He doesn’t have time to dwell on how he, as a crime lord, should always be alert. His brain is too focused on what Y/N has said.
“Why would you think that?”
Again, Y/N shrugs.
This time, Sylus doesn’t push her. He waits with the patience of a monk until she’s comfortable to speak.
But when she says nothing, Sylus just sighs.
He talks large but quiet steps to where Y/N is standing by the closet and gently turns her around to face him, “I’ve never stopped loving them.” he explains.
And Y/N wants to tell him that he doesn’t have to take pity on her, Sylus quickly adds, “I never cared about their size either. I always found them cute and you know how crazy I get when you wear those adorable knitted bralette.”
“You’re just saying that.” Y/N mutters.
“Y/N,” Sylus cups her chin and tilts it upwards, “I meant. I love every inch of you. If you gain weight, I’d still love you. If you lose it, my heart will skip a beat at the sight of you. If you want to get bigger breasts, I’ll support you if that’s what makes you happy. You want to keep them the way they are, then I’ll continue loving you. It doesn’t matter what I want, all that matters is what you want and whatever makes you happy.”
With each word Sylus utters, Y/N’s eyes well up with tears. She blinks them away but a single tear manages to escape. Sylus quickly wipes it away.
“What if I don’t have any breasts?” Y/N asks, tone very serious.
“Wouldn’t bother me.” Sylus’ answer is firm, confident that his feelings wouldn’t change.
“What if I have four tits?”
Sylus rolls his eyes, a laugh coming out as a huff, “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”
Y/N beams at him. She leans on her tiptoes to peck his lips, “Thank you.” she whispers.
“I love you.” Sylus leans down and returns the kiss, “And I meant everything I said.”
Y/N nods and presses her head against his chest, sighing in contempt when Sylus hugs her.
Zayne:
Zayne likes that he has a routine; one that he follows to a T. His small circle of friends and his colleagues tease him about his eccentrics but Zayne pays them the mind. Just knowing how the day will play it puts his mind at ease.
Zayne absolutely abhors when things don’t go his way. And even when he is known as a problem solver, he just loves predictability. Waking up every morning at four thirty sharp to lie in bed, processing his existence and then getting out of bed to work out for an hour is a routine he’s been following since high school.
The baker at the bakery five blocks away from his hospital has memorized that Zayne always steps into her bakery at a quarter to seven to grab his usual breakfast; a turkey and egg with cheese croissant and a black coffee. He’s at work at exactly seven. Has his lunch at one in the afternoon and his home at six in the evening to continue on with his routine.
So, when the time finally comes where he and Y/N start to date, he changes his routine. Zayne will be honest, the change was stress inducing but he managed to perform little changes. He still follows his weekend routine, however, it will be at Y/N’s apartment. They both have agreed since their relationship is only a few months old, it’s much too early to move in together.
This is how we find Zayne having breakfast with Y/N on a lazy Saturday morning. He’s sipping his black coffee in one hand while his other is holding his sleek black tablet which projects a hologram version of the morning paper.
“Do you know Dr. Ivannikov?” Y/N asks after Zayne places his coffee mug on the kitchen table.
Zayne doesn’t look away from the newspaper, “The plastic surgeon? Yeah I know him.”
“Is he any good?”
Zayne shifts his gaze from his tablet to glance at his girlfriend, “Why?”
Known for his attention to detail, Zayne doesn't miss the minute way Y/N’s shoulders tense and how forced her causal tone is.
“No reason.”
Curious, Zayne puts away his tablet and pays his full attention to Y/N who is avoiding his questioning gaze.
Zayne stares. Intense and demanding for answers. Maybe it’s the jealousy of having another doctor brought up in the little haven or the fact Y/N is being secretive that has him frowning, unaware of how suffocating he’s being.
“I want to get breast implants.” The words pass through Y/N’s lips in a rushed whisper. Embarrassment dripping from every word.
Zayne blinks as he tries to register what he heard. “I’m sorry?” he leans in closer, “I didn’t catch that.”
Y/N groans but she can’t escape Zayne’s hunger for curiosity.
“I don’t know.” She shrugs, still refusing to meet Zayne’s hazel green eyes. “I just don’t think they look nice. Every time I shop for clothes, they don’t compliment me at all. I want to buy those sexy lingerie but I’m too flat to show off anything. And…”
This time, she does meet Zayne’s gaze as she continues, “I’m worried you don’t find me all that attractive.”
Now that Zayne thinks about it, Y/N’s confession does explain why their most intimate moments were always done in the dark. He assumed that it’s because Y/N is shy and embarrassed but now he knows better.
“I can call him right now if you want and have the surgery for tomorrow.” Zayne states. As he leans back into his chair, he doesn’t miss the dejection shadowing Y/N’s beautiful face.
“But I’ll only do it if you really want this. I am a little hurt that you think of me as a shallow person and that you’d rather go through extreme measures than expressing your concerns with me but since it’s your body then it’s your choice to do whatever you want with it.” He finishes by crossing his arms across his chest.
Hearing all of that is like eating a bowl of needles; harsh and difficult to swallow. Y/N knows that Zayne is being logical but she thought he’d wax poems about her beauty.
“What do you think, Zayne?” Y/N asks, heart beating in her ears in expectancy.
“I think,” Zayne interlocks his fingers and rests his chin on them, “That you’re perfect the way you are.”
Y/N hears Zayne clear as crystal but she doesn’t process what he said, “What?”
“I don’t think the implants are necessary and I love how you appear. As I said earlier, however, if that’s what You want then I’m not going to stop you.” Zayne simply shrugs.
A volcano erupts in Y/N’s tummy and fills it up with millions of fluttering butterflies. She pushes her chair back and walks to where is sitting across from her. She invites herself on his lap and wraps her arms around his shoulders.
“I love you.” She kisses the tip of his nose, “Thank you for being honest.”
Zayne smiles at her. He brushes a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I love you too.”
Caleb:
It’s very rare for Y/N and Caleb to have a week off from work at the same time. Especially with how hectic their work is getting. Mountains of reports, long missions and sleepy nights. They’re at their wits end.
That’s why, when their schedule for July was released, they’re ecstatic to learn that they’ll be on break together. So they decided to take advantage of the heat and rent a vacation home at the beach located an hour away from Linkon.
“Hurry up! We’re gonna be late!” Caleb shouts at the bottom of the stairs as he glances at his wrist watches, “All the good spots will be gone.”
He and Y/N should’ve left the beach house ten minutes ago but Y/N is running late. Which is odd because Y/N is punctual and would rather eat chalk than be late to anything.
Fed up with waiting, Caleb takes to the stairs by twos.
“I’m coming in!” He announces before opening Y/N’s bedroom door.
He finds her standing in front of the full length mirror; hands on her hips as she twists and turns while examining her reflection.
“Does this look weird?” Y/N asks while pointing at her pastel green halter top.
Caleb’s ears are pretty pink when Y/N stands closer to him, as if the shorter distance will help him with his assessment.
“I think they’re–it’s cute!”
Y/N groans, loud and unladylike. Her eyes roll as she clicks her tongue. “I don’t want you to think they’re cute, you should think they’re sexy!”
Wait.
“What?”
Caleb’s breath catches in his throat as the words are registered in his brain. “What?”
Again, Y/N rolls her eyes. “My tits. They should be hot. Not cute.” She explains as if she’s talking to someone is intellectually challenging.
“Oh.”
Y/N sighs.
“Just forget it.” Y/N turns to change into a tankini to save herself from the embarrassment but a tight grip holds her in place.
“They’re hot. You’re hot.” Caleb’s bounces between Y/N’s chest and her eyes, ears still pink but they’re much brighter than before.
“Now you’re just pitying me.” Y/N crosses her arms, a sour taste on her tongue at the thought of Caleb singing empty praises.
“No, I mean it! You’ve always been and I’ve always found you attractive.”
Y/N doesn’t trust Caleb’s confession despite how truthful and genuine it sounds.
“Really?” She quirks an eyebrow.
“Yes!” Caleb nods frantically. “Do you know how hard it is to fight off those filthy mutts drooling all over you?”
Heart hammering in her chest, Y/N lowers her arms, suddenly feeling shy. “You do that?”
“Yes!” Caleb doesn’t screech but it’s pretty close. “You’re smoking hot and it’s a fight to the death type of situation and I’ll be damned if I don’t come out victorious.”
It’s intense and all too much but his confession makes Y/N’s thoughts fuzzy. Warmth bubbles in her tummy and goosebumps prickle her skin as Caleb continues complimenting her.
“We don’t have to go swimming.” Y/N interrupts Caleb who is retelling an incident where he punched a guy for making a crewed comment about you.
“What, why not?” He gasps because Y/N has been begging to go to the beach.
“Because we have a lot of things to talk about.” Y/N then shyly smiles at him, “Like when did you start liking me and how long I’ve been liking you.”
#sylus x reader#zayne x reader#caleb x reader#sylus x you#zayne x you#caleb x you#sylus x y/n#zayne x y/n#caleb x y/n#lads fanfic
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Tipping Point
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.4k
Warnings: sexual tension, implied smut
Summary: Your aunt signs you up for shooting lessons with Spencer Reid. You get more than you bargained for when you go.
Square Filled: alex blake (2022) for @spencerreidbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3
x
Not having a job is really kicking your ass. All you do is stay at home and flip through magazines and shows you’ve already watched. Since your parents died, your aunt has taken you under her wing. The housing and renting market is a joke right now, so you’re living with her until you can go to school. You want to go into her field since you look up to her so much, but the school year doesn’t start for another three months.
So, you’re just trying to pass the time by reading magazines and watching shit reality shows.
Aunt Alex walks downstairs after getting ready for work, and she goes to the kitchen where the full pot of coffee you brewed is waiting for her.
“So, what do you have planned for today?” she asks.
“Well, at ten, I want to cure diseases, and at two, I plan on writing a thesis on String Theory. Why? Do you have something planned? I can see if I can fit you in,” you say sarcastically.
“You’re so funny,” she rolls her eyes playfully. “There’s actually something I want you to do for me.”
“What’s up?”
“I signed you up for shooting lessons. One of my coworkers is teaching the class, and he knows you’re coming. Your appointment is at two.”
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. She’s been nagging you to take shooting lessons ever since you moved in with her.
“Aunt Alex…”
“Y/N, listen, your mother wasn’t prepared and look where it got her. I’m not letting the same thing happen to you.”
She’s right. Your father died shortly after you were born so your mom was the protector. There was an invasion one night and she wasn’t able to protect herself against the intruder. She died fighting to save you. Alex sees evil every single day, and it would break her heart if you weren't prepared for the worst.
“Fine, I’ll go,” you sigh.
“Good. It’s at two. Don’t be late.”
“I won’t.”
The morning is filled with reality TV, and the early afternoon is when you prepare to go to this lesson. What should you wear? A dress might be too much so you pick out a nice pair of jeans and a loose shirt. Once ready, you leave the house and head over to the shooting range. You’re not sure who from her team is going to be teaching you. You’ve never met them but you do know them by name. David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, and Spencer Reid. You don’t think Rossi or Hotch will teach you so it has to be either Derek or Spencer.
The shooting range is empty, probably due to Alex’s influence. She wanted whoever is teaching it to focus on you the whole time.
“Hello? Anyone here?”
“In the back!”
You walk to the back and see a tall and slender man putting away supplies. From Penelope’s use of the phrase “Chocolate Thunder” (thanks to Aunt Alex repeating it several times), you know this is Spencer Reid. Spencer turns and you’re immediately floored by how attractive he is. You’ve met your fair share of men and have hooked up with more than one of them, but Spencer is on a whole other level.
This is a man right here. You’re into older men, too. You’re not sure how old he is but he can’t be more than thirty-five.
He walks over to you with a smile. “Hi, I’m Spencer Reid. Alex said you were coming over.” No words are coming out so you just nod instead. “Have you ever shot a gun before?” Again, you can only shake your head. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.”
He takes you over to the area where you shoot and shows an array of guns on the table next to it. He picks up the smaller one and hands it over to you.
“Wow, this is heavier than I thought it was going to be,” you chuckle when you grab it.
“Yeah, don’t let that scare you. This is a very easy gun to use. First, safety.”
Spencer takes the gun from you and puts it on the table before grabbing a pair of earmuffs and safety glasses. You look up at him as he slides the earmuffs over your ears, and he looks into your eyes. He briefly looks down at your lips but it was so quick that you could have been imagining it.
“Does that fit well?”
Even through the earmuffs, his voice is like honey. You nod and he moves onto the glasses. He slides them on despite you having full capabilities of doing this yourself. You look down and the glasses slide off your face entirely, and you chuckle shyly. Both you and Spencer lean down to pick it up, and your hand bumps against his.
It was just a bump but that sends shockwaves through your body. Based on how Spencer is looking at you, you know he felt the same. This is different than any fling you had. You’ve never felt this type of attraction toward another man.
“Sorry,” you whisper.
“It’s okay.” He grabs the glasses. “Let me get another pair.” Spencer leaves and returns with a smaller pair. “Are those okay?”
“Better,” you smile.
“Okay, take the gun and turn the safety off.” You pick up the gun and flip the little switch. Spencer steps closer to you, so close that you can feel his body heat behind you. Butterflies flutter in your stomach but you try to ignore them. “Here, hold it like this.”
He reaches around you and fixes the way you hold the gun. He has to press himself closer to your back, and you silently thank Aunt Alex for setting this up for you.
“Am I holding it right?” you ask.
“Yes.”
His breath is hot against your neck, and you swear you can feel your panties dampening a little bit.
“Now what?”
“Shoot.” You aim at the target in front of you and shoot three times, all of the bullets not hitting the target but on the paper outside of it. “Okay, next time, don’t close one eye. That actually doesn’t help.”
“Okay,” you chuckle. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Try again. This time, try to aim for the heart.”
You aim at the target but freeze when you feel Spencer’s hand sliding up your arms and down to your waist. How can you think about this when all you can think about is his hands on your body? You shoot the target twice, both of the bullets hitting the target. However, one hit his leg and the other hit his hand.
“Better?”
“Yeah, a bit. Are you sure you’ve never shot a gun before?”
“Never.”
“For a first-timer, you’re doing a lot better than other newbies.”
“Thanks,” you smile. “I just have a really great teacher.”
Spencer spends the next thirty minutes teaching you how to shoot multiple different guns. By the time you’re done, the sexual tension is high. Spencer steps back from you and you regret not failing more just so you can feel his body against yours.
“Okay, I think that’s enough for today. I do think you might benefit from one more lesson. Are you free next week?”
“Yes,” you say too quickly. “I mean, I can make that work. Just let me know.”
“Great.”
Spencer removes your glasses and then your earmuffs while staring into your eyes the whole time. The tension between you two is like a boiling pot of water. It’s going to overflow any second now, and you can’t wait to see what will happen when he snaps. He looks down at your lips and you lick them slowly, and that seems to be the tipping point.
He grabs your waist and pulls you into him before slamming his lips on yours. You immediately wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. He hooks his hands under your thighs and lifts you up with ease, setting you on the small table so you’re up to his height. Spencer slides his tongue along your bottom lip, but he kisses his way down your jaw to your neck instead of licking inside your mouth.
“Alex is going to kill me,” he mutters between kisses.
“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” you moan.
Spencer pulls back and kisses you once again. If you knew this was waiting for you, you would have taken lessons a lot sooner.
x
Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds angst
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Smutmas Day 9 - Egg-Snog
Alastor x Deer Demon! Reader Summary: You are a deer demon, and so is he. But what happens when your deerest puns get a little too much fawning over? Warnings: Fingering, cum, use of pet names(cher, my dear), slight sub/dom dynamics if you squint, very obnoxious puns, etc. MDNI, 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Requested by @dragbunstudios Hope you enjoy!
The Hazbin Hotel was anything but calm normally, but tonight, the noise level had reached new heights—or perhaps, new lows. It started innocently enough: Alastor had pranced into the lobby with his usual swagger, his grin sharp enough to cut glass. Y/N, lounging in one of the chairs, twitched their velvety deer ears at the sound of his vintage voice. Alastor had been in a particular mood as for late, much to the annoyance of several other hotel residents, though that never detered him.
“Ah, Y/N!” Alastor greeted, his red eyes glinting with mischief. “What a deer-lightful surprise to find you here tonight!”
Y/N’s nose twitched, matching his energy effortlessly. “Oh, I’m just trying to stay out of tr-hoof-le. You know how it is.” They flicked their fluffy tail for emphasis.
Angel Dust, perched on the sofa with his legs sprawled dramatically, groaned. “Oh, for Lucifer’s sake, not this again.”
But Alastor was already cackling. “You, stay out of trouble? Fawn-tastic joke, my friend!”
“Oh, it’s no bull,” Y/N countered, leaning forward with a playful smirk. “Unlike you, who’s clearly just stag-ing for attention.”
“HA!” Alastor clapped his hands together. “Touché, my dear! Touché!”
Across the room, Husk muttered into his half-empty bottle of whiskey. “Why don’t you two just get a room already?”
Vaggie slammed her hands on the bar. “Seriously, do we have to listen to this? It’s like watching two sitcom dads try to flirt!”
Charlie, the ever-optimistic hotel owner, giggled behind her hand. “I think it’s adorable!”
Angel Dust rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t pop out of his head. “Adorable, schmadorable. They’ve been dancing around each other like this for weeks. Either they start locking lips, or I’m locking them in a room together until they do!”
“Angel!” Charlie scolded, though her blush betrayed her amusement.
Meanwhile, Y/N and Alastor were still locked in their pun-filled duel.
“Tell me, Y/N,” Alastor said, leaning casually against his cane. “Are you fawn-d of me, or is this all just a game?”
“Oh, I herd you the first time,” Y/N teased, their nose twitching again. “But maybe you should stop deer-tering me to respond and make a move yourself.”
For a moment, Alastor faltered—not that anyone else would notice. His smile remained intact, but the tiniest twitch of his ear betrayed his surprise. Then he threw back his head and laughed. “A bold challenge! I always love those, cher~”
Husk’s ears flattened against his head, letting out a low whisper from behind his beer bottle. “Kill me now.”
Angel Dust slapped the table with his hand. “Okay, okay, that’s it. If you two don’t kiss by the end of the night, I’m stepping in to make it happen.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow, their lips quirking into a sly grin. “Oh? And how do you plan to do that, Angel?”
“Easy!” Angel Dust leaned forward with a wicked grin. “I’ll make you two the starring act in my next performance—‘The Lusty Antlers of Passion.’ You won’t be able to resist!”
“Angel!” Charlie squeaked, her face as red as a cherry.
Alastor merely chuckled, tapping his cane against the floor. “While I appreciate the offer, Angel, I think Y/N and I can handle things on our own. After all—” He glanced at Y/N with a sly wink. “Good things come to those who wait.”
Y/N tilted their head, their tail swishing. “Well, I’m not one to rush, but I’d hate to keep you pining for too long.”
Alastor’s grin widened, and for once, there was a flicker of genuine warmth behind his crimson eyes. “Then perhaps we should continue this conversation... elsewhere?”
As the two of them strolled out of the lobby, their laughter echoing behind them, Angel Dust threw his arms up in victory. “FINALLY! Took them long enough.”
Husk groaned, pouring himself another drink. “I need a vacation.”
Charlie sighed happily, her hands clasped in front of her chest. “Love really does bloom in the strangest places.”
Vaggie pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s not love. It’s deer puns. Endless, insufferable deer puns.”
But as Alastor and Y/N disappeared around the corner, their tails swishing in perfect harmony, it was clear to everyone else in the hotel: this was more than just a passing fancy.
Deep in the hallway, as the two demon walks quietly, the jokes seemed to vanish. An awkward silence filling the space as each had a small tint on their cheeks, hearts pounding. However, in a moment born of incessant desperation to end such a silence, Alastor stopped and faced Y/N.
“Cher, would it…be too much to ask you if you mean your words earlier?”
Facing him with a small smile, Y/N’s hand came to rest comfortingly on the lapel of Alastor’s suit. “I meant every word, Al.”
“Then I hope you won’t mind—“
Before Y/N could even respond, Alastor pinned Y/N against wall, trapping them between his arms before locking their lips in a soft but passionate kiss. Pulling his mouth away to trail wet kises down the valley of their neck, Y/N’s hands came up to tug in his hair as a breathy sigh spilled past his lips. Alastor’s hands slowly dipped low, deft fingers trailing down the the waistband of their pants, pulling them softly in a request. Y/N nodded quickly, eyes rolling into the back of their head as his lips still continued worshiping their neck.
Pulling down the offending garment, panties and all, Y/N was left half bare before the heated and intense gaze of the Radio Demon. Licking his lips hungrily, Alastor drug a finger along the slit, pleasently surpised to find it already so wet and inviting. Bringing his hand back up, he sucked the juices from his finger with a low grumble of appreciation.
“Absolutely deer-vine, cher.”
Allowing his hand to flow back down, he plunged two fingers into their warm cunt, marveling at the way its walls constricted around him in desire. Y/N bit their lip, a desperate whine eeking past, body overflowing with arousal. Alastor’s face now was painted with a devilish smirk, speeding up only to hear those exact whimpers escape and reign freely for him to here. Relishing in all the delicious noises that came to pass through his partner’s puffy lips. His fingers curled up, hitting that delicious spot inside Y/N that nearly had her screaming, hands coming to grip his shoulders tightly.
Pannting as they squirmed ontop of him; the coil in theur stomach became too tight to ignore as his fingers continued their onslaught.
“Al—“
A blinding hot flash of liquid pours out of their overstimulated pussy without warning,, soaking the Radio Demon’s hand in release as he continues to pump into them; working Y/N through their high.
“That’s it, cher. Looking so pretty for me.”
After a moment, letting them catch their breath, Alastor removed his fingers and wipes them unceremoinsuly on his trousers. Looking back up at them with half-lidded but lust blown eyes, he spoke once more.
“Fawned of another round, my dear?”
#hazbin hotel fandom#romance#answered#radio killed the video star#vizziepop#hazbin hotel alastor#request#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor smut#alastor x reader smut#hazbin hotel x reader smut#smutmas#dino's smutmas#hornyposting#alastor's puns#deer puns#deery me
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01. PAINT IT BLACK ⸻ DECEMBER 12TH, 2017
now playing. paint it black (epic trailer version) by hidden citizens
chapter summary. you’ve always avoided the world your father built. meeting minjeong, or winter, is the last thing you want. she’s cold and calculated, and she’s there to make you know that there’s no such thing as running forever.
chapter warnings. none
word count. 1.3k
you met kim minjeong officially when you were sixteen years old. everyone in and out of the organization know her as winter. she’s supposed to be “cold as ice” or some shit like that. honestly, you don’t care what her name is or what it means.
she works for your dad, apparently as an extremely skilled swordswoman, efficient enough in other aspects to be highly respected too. you try to stay as far away from your father’s work as possible. the only reason you were at his office that day was because you, in a rush this morning, forgot your keys at home before you left for school. until you get his set, you're locked out of the house. you’re expecting to get in and get out; take two minutes to pick up the keys, go home and take a goddamn nap. already feeling uneasy in the building of his workplace, your nerves intensify when you notice the figure sitting at your father’s desk isn’t your father in his office.
you pause when you see her, caught off guard by the unexpected interaction. you’ve never actually spoken to winter, but because of your father, you know about each other. you know her as your father’s second in command, despite being only sixteen herself. minjeong knows you because—well, everyone in the organization knows you. all your father ever talks about, that isn’t work related, is how much of an amazing addition to the organization you’ll be once you finally come around.
you won’t. you and him both know that.
clearly, your entrance catches her attention, her dark eyes piercing through yours. though you’re still caught in a moment of surprise, you don’t fail to notice how cold her eyes are. fitting for someone named winter.
you’re not at all surprised by her demeanor. you expect nothing less from someone your father views so highly, even while being a teenage girl. she, for sure, looks the part of a mafia executive.
you regain your composure, remembering your original task. standing straight, you break the sharp silence, “what are you doing in here?” you ask, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorway.
“i should be asking you that,” winter retorts, “considering you just barged in.” her voice was laced with snark and curiosity. your father never mentioned anything to her about calling you in. assuming you willingly came here on your own, she wonders why, knowing of your disdain for this “business”.
you shrug, simultaneously scrunching your face, “don’t think i really need to give you an explanation.” of course you don’t. you could basically run this place if you wanted to. “where’s my dad?���
winter watches your reaction with a quiet amusement, her eyes narrowing just slightly, as if she’s trying to analyze you. everyone she comes across is intimidated by her, but not you. maybe that’s what she finds so fascinating. the way you’re not playing along to whatever game she’s used to.
“he’s in a meeting, should be back in an hour.”
fucking great.
you shift your weight from one foot to the other, trying to hold back an exasperated sigh. there’s no way you want around here for sixty minutes. hell, even thirty would be pushing it. but, with no keys, it’s either wait here or wait outside in fifty degree weather.
your eyes flicker towards the door, then back to winter, who's still lounging in your father's chair like she owns the place.
"just my fucking luck," you mutter, voice dripping with sarcasm. "all i wanted to do was go home and sleep, but of course, here i am. stuck in this shitty building, waiting for my piece of shit dad, while his right-hand girl..." you glance at her pointedly. "...plays executive."
you don’t expect her to react, but she does. her lips curl into a faint smirk, just enough to let you know she’s listening. she doesn’t look offended, or even upset. she seems more... indifferent. like she’s used to people throwing jabs her way. the young brunette crosses her arms, leaning back in the chair. "it’s not as bad as you make it seem, you know," she says, her voice low. "boss man expects you to be here eventually. whether you want to or not."
you freeze, the words catching you off guard. not because of what she said, but because of the way she said it. you can feel her eyes drilling into you like she’s dissecting your every move, reading something deeper than just your actions. it's unsettling, to say the least.
"right," you mutter, suddenly feeling the weight of the situation settle deeper in your chest. "and you expect me to just... sit here and play nice? like this is normal?" you gesture between the two of you.
winter’s eyes shift towards the clock, then back at you. "i’m not asking you to do anything," she says calmly. "but you don’t really have much of a choice, do you?"
you open your mouth, but the words don’t come right away. you want to protest; snap back, to say something—anything that could shatter this strange assurance she’s has.
“get up,” you gesture with your right hand. winter cocks her head like a lost puppy, an eyebrow slightly raised. you can’t help but roll your eyes, feeling as if you’re speaking to a small child.
“out of the chair,” you growl, frustration with her shining through.
winter doesn’t move for a long moment. her eyes narrow slightly, studying you as if she’s trying to figure out whether you're serious or not. you stand there, waiting, arms crossed, refusing to back down. the air between you is thick with a strange kind of tension—like there’s a game being played, but neither of you knows the rules.
finally, with a faint sigh, she spins the chair back around, facing away from the desk. "you’re incredibly stubborn for someone who claims she doesn’t belong here," she mutters tiredly, no real malice in her voice. it’s more like an observation. you take a step closer, dragging your feet just enough to make the silence feel even more awkward. her body language is stiff, controlled, but you can’t help but notice the slight tension in her shoulders.
you slide into the chair, deciding not to comment on her conclusion about you. instead, you pull out your phone, checking the time. the silence between the two of you grows for moments way too long for your comfort, but you can feel her eyes on you, watching you with that cold, calculating stare that seems so in character to her.
that’s what winter seems like to you; a character.
“i don’t know why you think your father’s world is some sort of... inconvenience to you. you think you can just avoid it, pretend like it won’t eventually pull you in? that’s not how it works.” she watches you closely as she speaks, her eyes dark with something like amusement or pity—maybe both.
winter’s lips curl into a small as she goes on and on, recounting her experience in the organization like it’s something to be proud of, speaking about how she’s earned every inch of respect and every piece of responsibility. how she’s built a reputation that’s both feared and admired, how she holds power in ways most people don’t even understand. it’s sounds almost rehearsed, like she’s replayed every moment that got her here in her head every single day.
“you aren’t special yn,” winter continues, voice cutting through your silence. “you can’t just stay on the sidelines in a world that your father created, whether you asked for it or not.” she pauses for a moment, letting the words hang in the air, her gaze unwavering.
the casual way she speaks makes it all feel like a warning, but not the kind you expect. she’s not threatening you—she’s just telling you how it is.
you can’t tell if she’s trying to convince you to join her side, or if she’s just giving you a reality check. either way, it’s starting to feel a lot less like an innocent conversation and a lot more like a negotiation.
the air in the room feels heavier, like the walls are closing in, and you’re just one bad move away from being swallowed up in this twisted world you’ve been trying so hard to stay away from.
you think waiting outside might be a better idea.
#aespa x reader#winter x reader#aespa imagines#aespa scenarios#aespa winter#aespa#girl group x reader#gxg#wlw#kpop imagines#kpop x reader
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Last Christmas | John Price x F!Reader
mdni!!! Tiny nsfw implied (this is so random but I thought it fits the holiday season hehe inspired by wham! ofc)
Something something the base decided to throw a Christmas party after a successful mission and you showed up in the most ravishing dress, a far cry from your usual uniform. Price choked on his drink the moment you walked through the door.
George Michael ridiculed him from the speakers. I kept my distance but you still catch my eye.
Your relationship with him was.. complicated. You broke up with him over a year ago. Though you weren’t sure you were even dating him. Again, complicated. The concept of working together while secretly fucking didn’t really go hand in hand. Oh the fucking was simple. The feelings that develop each time you do it? Not so much.
You were the one who broke things off. Stating you wanted to stay professional. You just didn’t want to confront him about the three forbidden words that lodged in your throat every time he kisses you so gently while his cock roughly pistons in and out of you.
Price physically felt his heart sink to his stomach when you told him. Though he would never admit it, thinking you were just bored of your fuck buddy. He just uttered a simple “Alright.” Idiots really, the both of you.
You dawned more drinks than you should, having just recently broke up with a guy. Price pretends to stumble into you as if he hasn’t been burning holes on the back of your head the entire party. And maybe your ass too. Hell, your tits, your thighs.. It was like he was trying to snipe you with the way he never let you out of his sight.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry sir,” you giggled, slurring all over the place. Your face was a little flushed, hair slightly disheveled and he had to swallow the hitch in his throat, shift his weight. As kids these days would say: he was down horrendous.
“S’fine,” he chuckled, steadily holding your arms to prevent you from falling. He missed your soft skin. He was so close, it made him nervous. Girls don’t make him nervous. He reluctantly let you go once you got back on your feet, his touch lingering. Just to make sure you won’t fall. And maybe just to feel you a little longer.
“Let me-“ you hiccuped. “Let me clean that up,” you say, reaching in your purse to see if you could find a napkin. Price had to look down his shirt to notice the small champagne stain you spilled. Bloody hell. Had he been so focused on you that he didn’t feel it? Must’ve looked like an idiot.
“Forget it, love,” he said, instinctively reaching out to your hand before he even realized it. He closed your purse, giving your hand a little brush of his thumb before letting you go again. He felt like a thief, stealing little touches whenever he could. You nodded sheepishly.
None of you said anything after that. None of you left either. He kept his eyes on you as you looked at your kitten heels. The first time in over a year you talk about something other than work and it’s about spilled champagne. He figured you’re still sober enough, your shy nature still peeking through.
“How are you?” You blurted out, tilting your head to look up at him. No sir, no captain, no nothing. How are you? The question and the way you caught him staring almost gave him whiplash.
“Good,” he says a second too quick, not even having thought of it. Miss you, his brain says, delayed. The words echoed in his head, desperate to leave his mouth. “You?” He asked back, deciding and hoping that the first part didn’t make it out.
“I- I think I need help with something,” you say before hiccuping again. Price raised a brow. Concern? Confusion? Intrigue? You can’t really tell. Perhaps it’s all three. “I can’t talk about it here.”
He nodded before he could stop himself. Let his feet follow you somewhere secluded. It seemed that his pride had left him a couple minutes ago, the thought of getting you alone again getting to him. Just to make sure you don’t trip again, right? And especially not fall into another man’s arms.
You turned around to face him when it was just the two of you, the music a blur in the background. Price searched your eyes, waiting for you to say something.
You held his face and kissed him.
And it was like you turned off a switch in his brain, his lips moving with you like autopilot. His hands find their way back home to the back of your neck, your sides, wherever he could touch you.
“Missed you,” he murmured against your lips. You don’t say anything.
But if you kiss me now, I know you’d fool me again.
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The Raven of the Empty Coffin: Chapter 2 "Akeru" Part 3
Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation japanese-english of the original novel. The events of this novel follow after what's already covered by the anime. For an easier understanding, I recommend first reading the few scenes of previous books I've already translated.
Blog version
For the Index, you can find it HERE
Previously: Akeru (Part 2)
⊛ ⊛ ⊛
Chapter 2: Akeru (Part 3)
“Isn’t Akeru kinda tense lately?”
It all happened during Horsemanship lessons. Shigemaru and Yukiya found themselves taking a break at a hilltop after finishing the assigned exercises, waiting for everyone else to catch up with them.
That day they were practicing what was called ‘rider-horse switching’. It was just one part of the training required to become capable of flying long distances without breaks and, as the name implied, it consisted of exchanging the roles between rider and horse in midair. At this point, they were only required to fly around the mountain once and then switch places, but Shigemaru had heard rumors that they would have to go all the way from the Center to Yamauchi’s frontier and back during their Graduation Trials.
Although, in theory, it was better to do such an exercise with someone of as similar a build as possible, Yukiya had proved to manage just fine even with Shigemaru as his partner.
“Still, it feels like you wouldn’t have any problems no matter who you partnered with.”
“Well, everyone becomes significantly bigger in bird form compared to their human form. I don’t think someone’s human build actually matters that much.”
“True, there are people way bigger and stronger than you in human form who are, in fact, struggling quite hard.”
“Oh, yes—like Akeru and his friends, right?”
While Akeru’s followers had never been particularly high achievers, even Akeru himself had started to flounder lately despite his initial brilliance. He had started to struggle to keep up as the difficulty of the practical courses ramped up—which was doubly true for Horsemanship, the one subject he had problems with from the start.
“Maybe that’s the reason,” Shigemaru said, bringing the conversation back to Akeru’s situation.
Yukiya gave him a bitter smile. “One of the reasons, most likely, but I doubt that’s all of it.”
The situation was changing even during theory, where Akeru had never before given up his position as the first of the class. “Well, you barely have a chance to study lately yet your grades are still virtually the same as his, I can’t blame Akeru for getting anxious over that.”
——Ever since the incident with Kimichika, Suikan had kept a constant eye on Yukiya.
It had been a month since then, and summer had finally arrived. Suikan, however, showed no signs whatsoever of forgiving Yukiya. He persistently called him to participate during exercise sessions and would find any reason—no matter how small—to give him all kinds of punishments and take away all his free time. Every so often, Suikan would outright lash out at him—telling Yukiya to his face that he should drop out of the Monastery.
It had gotten bad enough that, whenever they gathered, everyone in their usual group would insist that Yukiya should go ask for help from other instructors like Seiken. Yukiya, however, didn’t show a single sign of suffering through anything.
He would argue back at them—‘It’s on me for angering him’, ‘I don’t like the idea of telling on someone’, ‘If my grades dropped because of it that would be a problem, sure, but that won’t happen’. Yukiya laughed it off every time, never paying any mind to their group’s advice.
However, Yukiya was, in truth, losing sleep to finish his homework and he was forced to take tests without any preparation either. Despite that, and uncannily enough, his grades weren’t going down—they were actually improving. They were comparable to Akeru’s, even. He had risen to be the first of the class, or second at worst.
Akeru, meanwhile, was often rumored to spend all his free time on self-study. Even an outsider like Shigemaru could tell how Akeru’s expression would grow stiffer and stiffer every time he learned of Yukiya’s latest score.
“He made such a big deal of being part of the Wakamiya Faction too. I bet the coronation being postponed must be playing a huge part in it. He must not have any peace of mind—neither at the Monastery, nor at home.”
“You know, I feel kind of sorry for him.”
“No need. His grades are just his talent—or lack thereof—talking, and he only has himself to blame for acting high and mighty and humiliating himself like that. There’s not much for us to do.” While Yukiya had proved to be the type to sometimes spew venom with a smile, it was significantly more common whenever Akeru came up in conversation.
At the same time that he chatted with Yukiya, Shigemaru entertained himself by watching the other trainees fly around. The many pairs would ascend and, as if performing some sort of somersault, exchange places in a matter of seconds. Although they all lost quite a lot of height at first, the trainee who had just transformed into a bird would immediately place himself underneath and spread his wings, catching the wind. Just like that, they would both rise to their original altitude.
It was entertaining to watch such a stunt-like maneuver from afar, but actually doing it was quite terrifying. The person shifting from horse to human was forced to take a shape incapable of flight, wholly entrusting himself to his partner in midair. It wasn’t any easier for the person transforming into a horse—it felt like having a heavy rock on his back as he struggled to remain in the air instead of falling altogether.
Finishing the course with both members of a pair in bird form—hence incapable of becoming a rider and mount—meant disqualification. It truly wasn’t a maneuver you could succeed at without coordination and mutual trust between human and horse. That was exactly why Shigemaru felt it was easier to complete the exercise with someone close to you, rather than someone with a similar build.
As he thought about that, Shigemaru suddenly noticed a pair among their flying peers moving all too slowly. “Yukiya, look!”
Before Shigemaru had the time to point at it, Yukiya noticed it as well. “That looks actually dangerous. Is the rider perhaps tired? Unless they gain more altitude, at that rate—Huh?”
Yukiya didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. At that precise moment, the rider and mount tried to exchange places and, for a second, it was as if two horses were there at the same time. That was quite the rare sight when the swap went properly.
——He had a bad feeling about this.
The ideal was for both parties to shapeshift simultaneously—that was all too awkward and clunky to fit the criteria. Sure enough, they kept on falling inexorably, even once the initial horse moved upwards and transformed back into a human. The current horse proved incapable of catching the wind with his wings on time and his body plunged against the trees.
“Someone has fallen!” the hysterical screams of those watching resounded in unison.
“This is bad! With a fall like that, he got hurt for sure!”
“Contact the infirmary!”
In a matter of seconds, a ruckus like bees protecting their hive overtook the place. The instructors flew straight towards the location of the fall. From the looks of it, the rider had managed to transform back at the very last second and so avoided major harm, but the horse hadn’t been as lucky. “But who fell?”
“Shige, that was Akeru.”
“What? Really!?”
“I’m sure. I saw the rider’s hair shine red just before they swapped.”
Shigemaru immediately felt ill at ease. For such a thing to happen right after their conversation. As they spoke, bird-shaped Yatagarasu flocked together above the place of the incident.
⊛ ⊛ ⊛
The moment he opened his eyes, he felt a dull pain throbbing through his entire body.
His mind was hazy, possibly because of the pain medicine, and his body felt as if it was burning. The sky, visible through the gaps in the infirmary's window shutters, had gotten completely dark. A doctor had checked up on him the first time he had woken up, so Akeru already knew what had happened to him.
There were scratches all over his body and he had some nasty bruises, but fortunately none of his wounds were of a life-threatening magnitude. However, as he had hit his head during the fall, the doctor had instructed him to remain in the infirmary for the day.
Akeru had a vivid memory of the moment he fell.
Of all people, his partner was Chihaya. After watching everyone during the marching drills, Akeru already knew he was the fastest flier among the Seeds, and yet Chihaya had been flying at an awfully low speed back when it all happened. Akeru had been convinced it was all Chihaya’s attempt at harassment, but Akeru couldn’t afford to waste time like that—he had to become the horse and catch up with the rest. Led by his growing panic, he started to transform before Chihaya was ready to do so, forcing him to go for a switch.
The sound of the wind raged against his ears.
And there, Chihaya. The expression on his face the moment he took human form.
——In the end, Akeru’s own transformation took too long.
A terrible blunder, one that would be a massive problem for his grades going forward. If things kept going like this, maybe Akeru wouldn’t even be able to become Wakamiya’s vassal. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.
“Dammit……”
Where the hell did I go wrong? an overwhelmed Akeru wondered to himself.
“We have already informed everyone at the Western House.”
“I see…… Thank you for that.”
The next day, his two roommates came to visit. They had accompanied him to the Monastery and had once gone through great lengths to attend to Akeru’s every need, and yet they appeared unmistakably reluctant to come visit this time around. They both had the face of someone fulfilling the bare minimum of courtesies.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“Oh, nothing.”
“Nothing at all.”
They both remained aloof. Akeru could feel irritation expanding deep within his chest by the second. “...... You have been avoiding me lately. You know, if you have something to tell me, just say so.”
One of them abruptly raised his head. “Then, I’ll take my chance.”
“Hey, stop!”
“I’m not stopping! We are all thinking the same thing. So, I’ve heard about all this recently,” the boy said with a horribly contorted face. “Lord Akeru, you told us that you came here out of your own volition after receiving His Highness Wakamiya’s order to do so. But, apparently, you actually only served His Highness for one single day, am I wrong?”
Akeru was left at a loss. Why was that a problem now, after so long?
“Yeah, what about that?”
“I thought you coming to the Monastery was just in preparation to become His Highness’ vassal. You were truly brilliant at first,” he explained with an embittered look, “so we were almost fooled by that, but then—what did His Highness Wakamiya see in you, when you had barely spent a day with him and hadn’t even held a bamboo sword in your life at the time, to tell you to become a Yamauchi Guard?”
“Haven’t I told you again and again? The Yamauchi Guard is corrupt and I’m here to fix that. The Wakamiya Faction needs their own vanguard, and he chose me for that.”
“But if that’s the case, Yukiya of the Northern House is already there! He’s the most fit to obstruct the Animiya Faction. He’s the Great General’s grandson and the most talented in battle tactics among all our peers.”
To top it all off, Yukiya’s achievements included serving Wakamiya as his close aide for an entire year. If he got to graduate, there was no doubt he would become one of Wakamiya’s close vassals unless something radical happened.
“Command of the country’s warriors is the specialty of the Northern House to begin with. There was no need whatsoever for someone of the West of all houses to come to the Monastery. You were originally supposed to stay close to His Highness, right? As in, assuming His Highness expects Yukiya to fulfill his duty as a vassal by becoming a warrior, shouldn’t the same apply to you but by becoming a Court Official instead? And yet, you don’t even have an inkling of why you merely lasted one day as his attendant?”
“...... What are you trying to say?”
The rank of the Western House’s second son was, fundamentally speaking, one that shone first and foremost at the Court. What was the reason to even bother sending him to the Monastery despite that fact?
——The truth was that most nobles who went to the Unbending Reed Monastery were those whose families had forsaken them. Those too incompetent to get a job at the Court even through the On’i System.
“Wasn’t it simply that His Highness Wakamiya disliked you and used it as an excuse to get rid of you?”
His roommate’s words left Akeru speechless. “We heard that you had His Highness’ trust, Lord Akeru. That’s why we went through the trouble of coming here with you instead of joining the Court as we had originally intended, but what’s the point if His Highness truly has forsaken you? You wasted our time and effort,” the boy spat out. “We shouldn’t have come to the damn Monastery in the first place.”
The other boy had so far restrained from talking altogether, unlike his fierce friend. Now, he shook his head with a sigh. “I don’t think it’s all your fault. However, the fact is that, as of now, the West-affiliated Court Ravens are increasingly disappointed in you.”
Akeru’s head failed to process it all. There was no way he could believe straight away that these two, those who had been closest to him, actually had such an image of him.
“We’re planning to voluntarily drop out.”
“What!?” Akeru rushed to ask—a hint of pleading snuck into his voice.
“Well, that’s the idea…… So, could you keep your distance from us?”
Akeru couldn’t think of a way to stop them.
Just as his roommates were about to leave the room, however, Akeru caught sight of someone at the door. To make matters even worse, it turned out to be the last person he wanted to see in the current situation.
“Ah, did I come at a bad moment?”
The boy—Yukiya of the Northern House—tilted his head with a smile on his face.
“Ah, good to know it wasn’t too bad.” After watching Akeru’s roommates leave as if they were running away, Yukiya approached him with a shady-looking smile.
“Why did you come here?”
“Is that how you greet people? And here I bothered to come deliver a present for the sick. Here, take it.” Yukiya handed him a package covered in wrapping paper. Inside, there were sugar-sprinkled kumquats.
“I don’t want them.”
“Oh, really? Now that’s a waste. Can I have them?” Yukiya didn’t even wait for Akeru’s answer. He immediately sat by the window and started to stuff his mouth with kumquats. For a while, the only sound breaking the silence of the room was his slow chewing.
Akeru had no words for Yukiya. He had this feeling—like he finally understood why Yukiya had given him the cold shoulder when Akeru first offered him his friendship as a fellow member of the Wakamiya Faction. Unlike Akeru, Yukiya had been serving by Wakamiya’s side for an entire year. He didn’t want to think about it, but if Wakamiya had truly sent him to the Monastery out of disgust, Yukiya was sure to know.
While a part of him wanted to know what Wakamiya had intended for him all along, another couldn’t even bear the idea of hearing the truth.
“...... If that’s everything, can’t you leave me alone?” he said in an admittedly dreadful tone—he was too scared of the truth coming out from Yukiya’s mouth. However, as blatant as Akeru’s jealousy turned out to be, Yukiya simply laughed it off.
“I have more to say, obviously. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have come here at all,” he confirmed with a wholly impassive expression. “You see, if things keep going like this, you’ll end up leaving this place sooner or later.”
Akeru flew into a rage the moment he heard that. “It’s not that bad! My grades should still be better than yours if you put them all together!”
“Who’s talking about grades here? You truly don’t understand the position you’re in, huh?”
Yukiya’s demeanor got, all of a sudden, a lot colder. Akeru flinched. “What do you mean? The situation I’m in…”
“Think about it for a moment,” Yukiya said as he fiddled with a kumquat, “the trainees currently on the Monastery’s register are 44 Seeds, 21 Saplings and 14 Evergreens, a total of 78 students. Among those, only you and I were born with a social rank higher than fifth in our region. Furthermore, and this is including us, there are only six Court Ravens in the entire Monastery with the right to employ the On’i System. The vast majority of those are either Seeds or Saplings. Do you understand what that means?” Yukiya asked an astonished Akeru—it was as if he was testing him.
“That most trainees from the high nobility fail out before reaching their third year……?”
“Exactly.” While, at the moment, there were still Court Ravens among his peers, virtually everyone would be either from warrior clans or commoners once they became Evergreens. “There are others linked to the Four Houses, of course, but they aren’t necessarily nobility themselves. It’s obvious what will happen to you if you keep ridiculing Hill Ravens and paying your respects only to your fellow Court Ravens, isn’t it? With that attitude, you’ll just end up surrounded by enemies,” Yukiya explained with a bored expression.
“Besides, to form a West-affiliated faction to reform the Unbending Reed Monastery is, no matter how you put it, both impossible and pointless. Any issues with the Monastery’s policies are for people like the director or His Highness Wakamiya—those involved in the place’s administration—to fix. To ask a trainee to do so is just cruel and His Highness hasn’t ever expected anything like that from you.”
Akeru was appalled. “Then… there’s no reason for His Highness Wakamiya to have sent me to the Monastery, is there?”
——Were Wakamiya’s actions truly a mere attempt to get rid of him?
At the mere thought, Akeru felt all strength about to abandon his body. A moment promptly interrupted by something in his mouth—Yukiya had, all of sudden, rammed a kumquat in it.
“W-what are you doing!?”
Akeru almost choked on it, caught in a coughing fit as an unimpressed Yukiya gave him a bored look. “Oh, you see, I was just thinking about how some incredible idiots truly do exist. His Highness Wakamiya has such high hopes for you and yet you’re completely blind to it.”
“What?” Akeru raised his head, as if in search of an explanation. This time, Yukiya gave him a wry smile.
“I mean, he told you to come to the Monastery, didn’t he? So you could become his vassal in the future,” Yukiya explained as he rolled yet another kumquat on the palm of his hand. “It’s easy to tell why, looking at the guys from before. They didn’t say so per se, but the fact they spoke out like that is probably very much related to the delay of His Highness Wakamiya’s ascension to the throne. Those who only approach you seeking out family influence will change their tune over and over whenever it’s politically convenient. If you want to earn trustworthy allies, the last thing you want to rely on is status and influence. Let me tell you this much—you’re the very reason they ended up acting like that.”
Akeru stammered. He remembered how his followers—people he had genuinely thought of as allies—had blamed him and accused him of lying to them just moments ago. “...... I didn’t ever consider that.”
Embarrassed with himself, Akeru hung his head and, in answer to that, a hint of delight appeared in Yukiya’s voice.
“——Do you realize now? Think about it, what if you became His Highness’ vassal and still committed this kind of mistake?” Yukiya kept talking to the silent Akeru, admonishing him. “Remember, those you look down on as Hill Ravens are about 90% of Yamauchi’s population. Wakamiya is, in fact, very well aware of what kind of people are the majority in the country he rules over.”
The Unbending Reed Monastery was, in a sense, a reflection of Yamauchi itself. Slowly but surely, Akeru started to grasp the meaning behind Yukiya’s words. “So that’s why His Highness told me to come to the Monastery……”
To learn how to socialize with commoners ahead of time. All to stop Akeru from having an attitude unbefitting of one of the Golden Raven’s close vassals in the future.
“Wakamiya told you to come to the Monastery, but he didn’t say you had to become a Yamauchi Guard. He was trying to raise you. That’s the ultimate proof that his expectations weren’t placed on the Scion of the Western House, but on you yourself.” Then, Yukiya unexpectedly looked Akeru in the eyes. “But, what about you? What would you do if His Highness Wakamiya loses his status as Crown Prince? Would you remain by His Highness’ side if he isn’t your brother-in-law? If Lady Masuho no Susuki doesn’t ever enter the Harem?”
Akeru gulped in response to Yukiya’s harsh words. At that moment, what came rushing back to him was that first meeting with Wakamiya, before he even knew of his status, and how he had felt that day.
——The start of everything, a shared secret and a gentle smile under the sinking sun.
“I—” Akeru let out in a hoarse, shaky voice. He closed his mouth to try again with more success. His tone was a lot more firm. “I want to serve under His Highness Wakamiya himself. If he values me as me, then I believe I must respond with the same.”
“I see…… That’s a relief for me too to hear.”
This time, Yukiya had a bright smile on his face. It didn’t feel shady at all, not anymore.
For the first time since they first met, Akeru genuinely saw in Yukiya a companion, a fellow follower of Wakamiya. He felt like he had at last fully grasped why Yukiya had most likely been chosen as a close aide—that great intelligence of his. Not the kind that makes you good at studying, but a different one altogether.
“You aren’t like me, Yukiya. You have gotten this far, all with the conviction to never rely on your house’s influence.”
That must be the very reason why he had gone through such efforts to get along with Shigemaru and the rest, or so Akeru thought. However, Yukiya laughed Akeru’s sentimentalism off.
“No way! It’s true that I felt like that once, but I don’t have the luxury to say so anymore. I plan to use anything and everything that’s at my disposal.”
Akeru blinked. “But, then, what’s the point?”
“Don’t misunderstand, Akeru.” All of a sudden, Yukiya’s eyes narrowed into slits. Akeru, who had tilted his head in question, watched him. “Power and authority are troublesome things, they can easily cause your downfall when not used correctly. On the other hand, they can also be your strongest trump card. So, what I’m trying to say is,” Yukiya said with a cold smile, “you must not mistake when and how to use them.”
——Akeru felt a sudden chill down his back.
Yukiya’s smile had transformed into something entirely different. His eyes were impenetrable, like those of a snake. What emotions hid within, Akeru couldn’t tell but, in a matter of seconds, a deep terror rose within him.
“What are—” Akeru swallowed.
—you scheming? he tried to ask, but before he could finish his question, a tanned face abruptly popped out through the window on Yukiya’s side.
“Are you all done with the difficult talk?”
Akeru almost jumped up from surprise, but his entire body howled in pain at the attempt. “Shigemaru! When did you arrive?”
“We came here together with Yukiya, to be honest, but it didn’t feel right to intrude given the mood so we hid here to wait instead. Here, a present,” Shigemaru bent himself through the window and dropped a basket full of plums on the floor.
“Oh, I actually love plums. Can I have one?” Yukiya asked nonchalantly.
Akeru was left in a state of complete confusion. What had that been a moment ago?
“You had quite the impressive fall, but you seem better than I thought you would be. How are you feeling?” Shigemaru asked him.
Akeru was incapable of answering at first. Ironically enough, he had the feeling that Shigemaru had just become the first person to show proper concern for him. It was both strangely moving and a source of sudden embarrassment at his own behavior so far.
“Your concern is much appreciated. I’m doing fine, but… ‘we’?”
“Oh, yes! Actually, he has been way, way more worried about you than me.” Outside the window, Shigemaru vanished for a second. He proceeded to pick up the boy apparently sitting there by the scruff of his neck, effortlessly lifting him up to show Akeru.
A sour face appeared—‘I wasn’t that worried’ written all over it.
“Chihaya.” Akeru was so surprised he couldn’t say more.
Meanwhile, Chihaya seemed to be struggling just like him. He looked to be at a loss for quite a while, before finally letting out a mutter, “It wasn’t intentional.”
That’s all it took for Akeru to understand what was going on—to get an idea of what kind of rumors were spreading all over the Monastery at the moment. Everyone probably suspected that Chihaya had hurt Akeru intentionally. He originally served under Kimichika, whose harassment attempts towards Akeru had turned into a frequent occurrence as of late. Had he not been directly involved in the incident, Akeru would have probably believed the same.
“...... I know. It was my own fault I fell.”
He had seen Chihaya’s expression for a second there—he had been clearly frightened. It all, from his initial transformation to his fall, happened in an instant, but he had still felt how Chihaya had done everything in his power as the rider in an attempt to recover.
However, there was one thing he couldn’t understand about the incident, no matter how he thought about it...
“Hey, Chihaya. You should be able to fly a lot faster, right? Why were you going so awfully slow back then?”
Chihaya answered his question in a dispassionate tone, “You were struggling to keep your balance. I thought you would roll down from my back if I flew any faster than that.”
“——I see.” Akeru let out a big sigh. After straightening himself over the futon, he deeply bowed in Chihaya’s direction. “I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble. I’ll explain what happened to everyone else.”
“No…… There’s no need.” As scarce as Chihaya’s words were, they made Akeru’s chest feel so much lighter.
“Oooh! To see you apologize to a Hill Raven. You too have grown, huh?” Shigemaru’s amused admiration, on the other hand, gave Akeru all kinds of mixed feelings—something the former seemed to pick up on immediately.
“Look, Akeru.” Shigemaru’s expression changed ever so swiftly. “Just like you had your own reasons to come to the Monastery, we all also have ours. Nobody has the exact same circumstances, so it’s a given we all think differently.”
Akeru meekly listened as Shigemaru spoke. “I think this place is amazing, you know. Where else can people from all corners of Yamauchi gather and share their views and opinions with each other? If we weren’t here at the Monastery, neither of us would have had the chance to speak to each other normally like this, right?”
“Yes, absolutely. You’re right……”
“We’ve been given such a rare chance, so think of it this way—it’ll be for your own sake to try to get along with others,” Shigemaru said with a laugh. “Breaks aside, we gather to study together almost every day in an empty room of the second building. Want to come along? Everyone will be happy to see you.”
At that moment, Akeru’s heart was terribly touched by Shigemaru’s carefree words.
By the time Akeru returned to his own room with the doctor’s permission, one of his two followers had already vanished. He hadn’t given it much thought before, back when they had that talk, but his grades had always been much worse than Akeru’s. Most likely, he had genuinely reached his limit, incapable of keeping up with life as a trainee any longer.
Akeru fretted about it for a while but, by the time night came, he had decided to head to the second building. Once actually there, it didn’t take him long at all to find the room where the study group was held—the sliding door wasn’t only open, but the voices coming from the room were exasperatingly loud.
“I can’t do this anymore! I don’t understand it at all.”
“Get your shit together! Now that glasses dude has found out about it, we can’t just go and copy Yukiya’s homework wholesale anymore!”
“Look, I’m telling you. As long as you memorize the warfare records1, it’s just a matter of applying it all afterwards,” Akeru heard a tired Yukiya say. An onslaught of angry yells followed right after.
“Like that’s easy, you freaking bastard!”
“There’s no way we can memorize those things just like that!”
“By the way—how did you even do it to begin with?”
“I just read it normally? That was it, really.”
“See, here it comes!”
“This is why I cannot stand quick learners!”
Warfare records were a register of what movements were executed by which pieces and when during a Board Drill for later examination, and, by the sound of it, they were trying to finish their Strategy homework. Akeru took a deep breath, steeling his resolve before finally standing by the door frame.
“For warfare records, you should first pin down the Officers’ moves. Infantry movement always uses them as the starting point.” The group, who had been about to collectively throw their textbooks out and get a swing at Yukiya, turned to look at Akeru. Their mouths were wide open.
“...... Akeru?”
“What are you doing here?”
Although both Shigemaru and Yukiya smirked at the scene, neither stepped out to support him. Alongside the wall was Chihaya too, quietly taking care of his own homework all by himself, but he didn’t even bother to glance at him.
Akeru lightly licked his lips, dry out of sheer nerves, and surveyed the faces of those inside before speaking, “I was wondering if, maybe, it would be possible for me to join the study group as well. I know it may sound wrong of me to say but, well, if it’s theory I should be able to help a little. Of course, that’s if you’re all fine with it……”
By the end, he was tapering off.
Akeru knew perfectly that his attitude so far had been anything but pleasant for the people gathered there. He cast his eyes downwards in fear of their reaction when, out of the blue, one of the boys lying on the floor jumped towards him and took him by the shoulders.
“Welcome, professor.”
“Eh?”
“We may actually be able to understand what you’re saying. At least, more than with that Yukiya bastard,” he ruthlessly added.
“Mean,” Yukiya murmured. He was the only one to protest.
“We can’t figure out any of it! At this rate, we’ll end up dropping out.”
“No matter how many times we listen to Yukiya’s explanations, none of them make any sense to us. You’re our last hope.”
Akeru’s eyes were left wide open—their reaction wasn’t anything like what he had expected.
“...... You’ll forgive me?”
“Not like there’s anything to forgive.”
His fellow trainees, all commoners for the most part, traded glances. “It would be a lie to say we don’t have our own feelings about you, but desperate times call for desperate measures.”
“If you help us so we don’t drop out, we’ll consider all accounts settled.”
“So, less grumbling, more teaching! The due date for these is tomorrow and we haven’t gotten anything done yet.”
Akeru wasn’t quite sure if he should be glad at their reaction or not, but Shigemaru burst into laughter. “In short, no hard feelings!”
After that, Akeru spent the rest of the evening teaching theory to his peers. Yukiya’s explanations proved to be awful and their current situation was beyond subpar, but, thanks to Akeru’s efforts, they ended up being able to solve a lot of the questions with ease. In the end, his overjoyed, frantically crying students were imploring him to come again the next day.
“Tired?” Shigemaru asked him on the way back.
Akeru shook his head. “No, thank you for inviting me. It was fun.”
It had been the first time in his life someone thanked him like that. It was invigorating beyond belief. On top of that, there were many among the study group who were accomplished at Horsemanship and, as a show of gratitude, they had offered to help him practice the horse-rider switch during the next break. Akeru was genuinely glad he had joined them.
——There was, however, a matter much more important than his participation in the study group. One he had left for later.
“Chihaya, do you have a moment?”
Akeru called out to him just as he had left the empty room, heading towards his own. There was clear suspicion on Chihaya’s face, but he nevertheless followed him to a corner of the hallway without ever uttering a word.
“I’ve given you a lot of trouble with the latest incident. Allow me to apologize again,” Akeru bowed.
“I don’t mind,” Chihaya answered just the same way as before.
“But I do mind. You could have also ended up gravely injured if anything else had gone wrong, and now there are weird rumors going around. I’ve been thinking a lot about if there was something I could do to pay you back.”
Chihaya’s expression became slightly troubled, but Akeru kept talking without paying it any mind. “Despite your bad relationship with Kimichika, you came to the Monastery through the Minami-Tachibana’s recommendation, right?”
“..... You investigated me?”
“I’m sorry, but yes. Back when I lost against you during our first match, my followers checked your family register in the census, as well as your general background, and came to inform me. That’s when I heard that you have a little sister and her health is poor, so you couldn’t refuse the Minami-Tachibana’s assistance. When Kimichika intimidated you during your fight that one time, he meant your sister, right?”
In a matter of seconds, Chihaya’s expression went entirely blank.
“I’m fully aware it was presumptuous of me to do so. That said, let me ask you something else. Would you let me assist you with that?” Chihaya didn’t reply to his question. “You must loathe this situation, having your sister essentially be a hostage to Kimichika. This is just as a way of apology, there are no ulterior motives or anything,” Akeru emphasized. “It’s all out of pure goodwill, I mean it.”
Up until then, Akeru had only taken advantage of his own position and the power his birth had given him. He had done nothing but act arrogantly in front of people like Chihaya or Shigemaru. However, he had no plans to commit the same mistakes and misuse his power anymore. He wanted to follow Yukiya’s advice. This would be a good first at using his influence in the correct way, or so he thought.
“The Western House will support you, if you wish so, and we’ll take good proper care of your sister too. It’s not like you want to be under Kimichika either. Right, Chihaya?”
Chihaya opened his mouth after a long silence.
“That’s right,” he murmured in a self-deprecating tone. “That much is true. I’m not receiving the Minami-Tachibana’s aid because I like it that way.”
“Then!” Akeru said enthusiastically.
The look in Chihaya’s eyes, however, was as cold as ice.
“——It’s as I thought. You’re just like Kimichika.” Just like that, Chihaya turned his back on him and quickly left the place behind. Akeru had no time to stop him.
…… Did he just anger him?
Frozen in place, Akeru watched Chihaya as he vanished into the distance.
“But, why?” He couldn’t even imagine the reason behind Chihaya’s anger.
Next: Chihaya (Part 1)
—————————————
1: Warfare Records is my take on Senpu (戦譜), which is in itself a reference to Kifu (棋譜). Kifu is the word for records of abstract strategy games like Shogi or Go, which can be used to fully replicate a game. Each game has their own notation methods.
#Translation: The Raven of the Empty Coffin#yatagarasu#yatagarasu series#the raven does not choose its master#karasu wa aruji wo erabanai
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finished fellowship and have some updated thoughts on Hobbit Relationship Drama...
- merry & pippin are still useless homosexuals. merry accidentally brushed pippin’s hand at dinner one time and thought about it for like 3 weeks. pippin usually ends up marching behind merry when they travel and spends an awful lot of time thinking about how beautiful merry’s curls look backlit in the setting sun. but not in a gay way.
- frodo and sam, on the other hand, wasted no time getting themselves sorted out and confessing their undying love. tom bombadil mistakes them for a couple (past, future, present.. they don’t matter to him so he just got his timelines a lil twisted). later that evening as they’re getting ready for bed they’re both like “haha wow, who could ever mistake us for a couple. that’s so ridiculous.... unless...?”
- they wanna keep things on the down low until they’re Certain that this is a Thing, so they spend most evenings between the old forest and bree volunteering for the late watch so they can stay up all night talking about their feelings. they just. love each other so much. it’s unreal. the only thing they disagree about is PDA: frodo thinks it’s in bad taste, and sam wants to superglue his hand to frodo’s ASAP.
- one of the first conversations frodo has with sam when he wakes up in rivendell after nearly dying is “listen, i need to marry you before anything like that happens again. if either of us dies before we’re wed it would be the most unspeakable cruelty on this earth.” sam, a huge romantic who has cried at every wedding he’s ever been invited to, has to sit down upon hearing this to avoid swooning.
- only problem? they ask elrond, as master of the house, to officiate the wedding, but elrond refuses cause he thinks it’s a horrible idea for the ringbearer to fall in love at a time like this. they ask gandalf, but he’s too involved in White Council Politics and won’t go against elrond in his own house. they’re lamenting this turn of events to bilbo, who’s like “wait, didn’t you know? the king of dale gave me some obscure honorary title that authorizes me to officiate legally binding unions. i’ll marry you right now!” sam runs and grabs pippin & merry and they have a cozy little impromptu ceremony in bilbo’s room.
- they’re still keeping things low-key to avoid drama with elrond, but bilbo is a gossip and word gets around to gloin in no time, who tells gimli, who confronts sam about it before dinner one evening. “listen, your business is your business but you should know, as dwarven nobility, i’ve officiated many a wedding in my time if you wanna make doubly sure your union will be recognized among all the free peoples of middle earth...” so they get married Again. gimli tries to gift them both rings, but frodo has enough of those to worry about, thanks.
- legolas is a voracious eavesdropper and will not be outdone by a dwarf. “say, frodo,” he casually starts one evening. “i’m a prince and guess what princes can do? marry people.” SO sam and frodo get a third marriage certificate, written in elvish this time.
- frodo is hanging out with bilbo and aragorn one morning over brunch, workshopping one of bilbo’s songs, when a thought occurs to him. “strider, as you may have figured out by now, sam and i are married in three different languages. you’re sort of royalty, right? wanna get in on the joke?” “i absolutely want to be in on the joke,” strider says, because he is a very poetic soul and this whole situation is gonna be keeping him awake with a single tear in his eye for months. their love is beautiful, he’d be honored to have any part in it.
- boromir is deeply offended that he hasn’t been invited to marry frodo and sam yet, so the morning before the fellowship sets off, he corners the happy couple at breakfast and rattles off a speech before either can finish their eggs and toast. it’s a little jarring, but he does give them the most sensible wedding gift yet: a stamped leather folio for sam to safely store their five (5) marriage certificates in.
- they think they’re safe from any more weddings when they leave rivendell, but without elrond watching him, gandalf wants to throw his two cents in. he pulls them aside after dinner one evening in hollin and says a few words. “trust me,” he insists when they protest, “you’d do very well to have one of the istari bless your union,” and throws a few protection spells into the mix for them.
- elrond, for his part, has known about these shenanigans since the first marriage, because bilbo wasted no time marching up to him afterwards and demanded to know why he refused to officiate his favorite nephew's wedding. he's been keeping an eye on the situation since and refraining from comment. if all goes well, the ring is destroyed, and sauron thwarted... perhaps then, a proper rivendell wedding would be in order to celebrate.
re-reading the lord of the rings for the first time since i was a teen and i have some Thoughts on the hobbits' relationship statuses at the beginning of fellowship. will update as i finish each book.
- merry and frodo dated all through their tweens and were, like, disgustingly into each other. they were The Couple at brandy hall forever and all their neighbors were impatiently awaiting their wedding invites. then merry met pippin and it was love at first sight, he knew he'd never be able to stop pining.
- not wanting to string frodo along, they broke up. it was relatively amiable, they had a long talk about it over tea and both of them cried into each other's arms a lot, but understood it was probably for the best in the long run. frodo moved in with his uncle at bag end to give them both time/space to recover, and wrote a lot of sad poetry for a while.
- unfortunately for merry, pippin is still deeply closeted and completely oblivious. but merry is patient, and is more than happy to enjoy pippin's platonic friendship even if he doesn't ever end up reciprocating romantic feelings.
- frodo developed an immediate crush on sam, the Gardener's Hot Son, but refused to let himself get carried away cause he's a mature (if melodramatic) hobbit and 1) didn't want to rush into anything after merry, and 2) didn't want sam to feel weird about his boss having feelings for him.
- sam, meanwhile, is desperately in love with frodo and seeks advice about it p much right away from merry. "help, i'm smitten for your ex, but he's so aloof around me i don't know what to do!" sam cries. merry, who kept his distance from frodo for all of, like, two months before striking up their friendship again, finds this hilarious. he advises sam that frodo is just Like That, and if he wants to bring him out of his thick head, sam needs to smother him in Really Blatant Flirting.
- sam, bless him, decides that the best way to flirt with frodo is to be overly formal and deferential around him, which only makes frodo more anxious about abusing the power imbalance in their relationship. "master frodo, sir," sam says, wondering if he's laying it on too thick. "oh, sam..." frodo sighs, hoping his status as hobbit nobility isn't pressuring his crush into being so excessively polite to him.
- pippin is blissfully unaware of all of this, and assumes that it's perfectly heterosexual for all his best friends to hold hands and smooch and talk about wanting to get married to and grow old with each other. i mean, who wouldn't want to marry his friends? they're all so gorgeous and kind and funny and smart. especially merry. if pippin were gay (which he isn't!!!!!) he definitely wouldn't mind settling down with that brandybuck...
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I will eventually clean this up and post to AO3, but I’m bordering on being late for work because of this ficlet.
I think we all need this right now.
Fic: Tomorrow starts the work. (1/1) Steggy
You can see this as either a part of my Dissents Speak or Seven if we’re lucky Universes…
~*~
It was a devastating blow.
Sitting, watching the results come in.
Watching each state turn red.
“Red Mirage, blue wave,” Steve muttered to himself as he paced between phone calls and texts, over and over for hours on end, managing the flow of information between Peggy and the outside world.
“It’s not coming,” she finally conceded, holding back tears.
“It’s still-“
“No,” she finally interrupted him, sniffing back her emotion. “No. It’s not coming.” Peggy stood, pulling at her shirt and reaching for her jacket. “I’ll have to meet with everyone, put together a speech.”
”I don’t understand how,” he said softly, looking between her and the screen, devastated and forlorn and confused. “We worked so hard, we told the truth, we showed everyone what the difference was…”
”And they weren’t ready,” Peggy said softly, sadly, as she reached for him, entwining her fingers in his. “So may people are, but not enough understood what was at stake.”
”What… what do we do?” He stammered, clutching her hand tight.
She looks at the TV, muted, with the prediction blaring in bold letters across the banner at the bottom: they’ve lost. It’s undeniable. “We try to sleep. We concede gracefully.”
Peggy smiles at him, reaching up and letting her hand run over his cheek. “You never even considered the possibility, did you, darling?”
Steve shakes his head. “I don’t understand how…”
She sighs, full of love for the man before her, his optimism and his passion, and for the loss they’ve both now suffered. For the loss so many have suffered.
“Neither do I,” she reminds him gently, “but I need you to.” She can only smile at his quizzical look. “Tonight we can be sad, but tomorrow starts the work. This was an election, not a sentencing. Nothing is written in stone. For every policy, for every bill, for every ideaology he puts forward, we need to be there, ready to fight for what we know everyone deserves.”
He shakes his head, astounded at her strength. “I’m just- I’m so fucking tired, Peg…”
”Aren’t we all, darling?” She can’t keep the bone deep weariness out of her voice. “But we carry on, because that’s what we do. We carry on, because someone needs to fight, to educate, to do. The more we do, the more others will, too. If we stand still, if we get bogged down by this defeat, nothing will change. We will create that destiny for ourselves. Tomorrow is still unknown, and I’m going to do damn well everything in my power to make sure it isn’t the outcome I’m afraid of.”
He pulls her into his arms, holding her tightly. “You’re right.”
She laughs, even if a tear does escape her eyes. “Of course I’m right, darling.”
”Tomorrow starts the work,” he affirms, stepping back and running his thumb over her cheek, wiping away her single errant tear.
She smiles up at him, tinged with fear and loss, but full of the hope she never gives up on, “Tomorrow starts the work.”
#steggy fic#3p's fic#I needed to get this out#because the Peggy in my head says don’t give up#I won’t and I don’t think you should either#we can be sad today#tomorrow starts the work
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I believe shake and fry lock are brothers??
Are you a pro shipper ? :((
Actually they’re a cup of fries and a milkshake
#also I’m a grown adult with a job I don’t have time to label myself as this or that who tf cares#I’ll put it this way: you won’t catch me shipping something like reigen and mob or hikaru and kaoru#but if it’s two fast food items grown in a lab then I do not care and I don’t think anyone else should either#you’re entitled to feel however you want of course don’t let me take that from you
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people who are afraid of fem sirius are the weakest links in this fandom
#booo boooorrrrinnngggg#you think he should be masc? a tough guy? like he was in canon? boy do i have some news about canon for you#infinite versions of these characters exist and the special sirius inside your head belongs to you and he can be as masc as you want#but complaining about feminine portrayals of a queer character (because it’s never people arguing that sirius is straight) is so pathetic#THEY WERENT GAY IN CANON EITHER BRENDA#plus it’s like#the joanne version of sirius is literally dean winchester like that’s the tattooed motorcycle riding bad boy she envisioned. and sometimes#i fuck with that very stereotypically masc bad boy vision! but don’t act like people are crazy for suggesting (sometimes) that#that gender performance is just that- a performance#which may even be compensating for something or masking some other true internal feeling? could that not be interesting to explore?#a sirius who rides the motorcycle and is covered with tattoos but also wears a dress sometimes? or makeup? this won’t kill you i promise#plus it’s like. a character written by the most notorious transphobe. so perhaps arguing that the characters MUST conform to the binary#they were written into isn’t um transgressive or creative even#^ mucho texto :O#fern.txt
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tumblr telling everyone to not vote for kamala over israel like the US election decides the war and kamala herself is netanyahu. meanwhile netanyahu is sitting around the negotiating table trying to draw out the talks and so he can use them as an opportunity to massacre more palestinians.
eagle eyed focus on the real issue as always, guys 👍
#like i don’t know how to correctly identify the amount of ego that goes into these calls#i’ve made attempts#but it’s like america genuinely expect their government has total say over this#and don’t understand that there is a lot of international politics at play and democrats can only pressure netanyahu#they can’t defund their most important strategic military ally two months before an election#and that’s why they won’t#so you probably should work out why you’re calling to not vote for her#like what does she have to do to get your vote?#because i promise you whatever you think she or the dems should should do either she can’t or it won’t help.#gaza#us elections#kamala harris#yall are deluded by your own importance
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series i’m gatekeeping from my family vs series i’m ✨ok✨ with my family knowing i’m into:
#‘why do you gatekeep hw from your irls?’ well. the thing is. i just ✨don’t want to✨#and. like. i’ve already led my family to believe that i bought bl manga when i was buying idol sengen at animate#so i think im already past the point of no return in that regard. so. um. yeah.#thank you village vanguard for the unexpected μ’s content in 2k24 you truly are yappa saikyou#i s w e a r falling back into my ll phase almost 10 whole years after i first got into it is unexpected tbh#compounded with the fact that i can now actually afford whatever im looking for. so. like. my wallet is in crisis lol#i had just reached my savings goal last month but now i’ve overspent bc i saw great deals on resold honoka-chan hoodies and i couldn’t help—#so now i have 2 identical hoodies lol. but i’ll keep one of them safe in its packaging bc im unwell like that ig#my merch whaling is out of control i s w e a r but my oshis are just too cute aaaaaaaaa#i probably should open another savings account instead… maybe that’d keep my spending under control…#b u t for now honoka-chan jersey im looking for you#tfw ur oshi is decently unpopular amongst the fans so hardly anyone resells her merch lmao#so ig the relatively fewer fellow fans she has are more dedicated to her than fans of other more popular characters lol#but at least her stuff (when resold) isn’t as overpriced as the actually popular members (birb and tomato)#so my wallet isn’t crying as hard as it could’ve been? ig? hunting for almost 10 year old merch is a pain fr though#either way. the grip idol series have on my wallet is truly insane#i wonder how many bags of chips i could’ve bought with the amount i’ve spent on hw and ll merch to date…#at least a thousand… i think. maybe even 2 thousand if my past gacha game whaling is taken into consideration…#…this is probably why it’s important to have a decent paying job ig.#oh well. at least i may be making b a n k this month with how much ot i’ve had to do this week so far…#i hope i won’t have to work till 5am again over the next 2 days… that had been a horrible experience.#help what am i even talking about anymore why am i having a life crisis right here and now u m.#anyways. dni if you dislike honoka-chan. thanks for coming to my crisis rant. see you when the last stage mv drops ig ok byeeeee
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