#ahh i need to clear my ask box

[comingyourlugubriousness]

ASHKDN It took me an embarrassing amount of time to figure out your username literally comes from Pain and Panic from Hercules when we’re introduced to Hades and his gaggle. BRUH! HOW DID I NOT NOTICE AND WHY DO I ONLY HEAR THE PAIN’S VOICE WHENEVER I SEE YOUR BLOG WUSHBXEWPB

LOL. It is one of my fav lines from the movie. I wanted my name to be a reference, but subtle! Its also very goofy to write it out all the time lol.

It means: looking or sounding sad and dismal.

[idyllic-ghost]

title: Stay in Character! pairing: vernon x gn!reader genre: established relationship, fluff, warnings: reader has a sister with a kid, mentions of childbirth, mentions of stress, anxiety over moving in with a partner synopsis: You're on the verge of panicking - you still have moving boxes to pack and move into your boyfriend's apartment, but you can't leave the fact that your sister is giving birth to her second child while you're babysitting her first. However, your stress slowly dissipates when you walk into your cluttered kitchen and see your boyfriend playing pretend with your niece. wordcount: 5.9k

rating: PG 15

a/n: i keep wanting to write soft fluffy vernon blurbs idk what's happening

Disclaimer: The scenarios and depictions in my works are fictional and do not represent real-life situations. They do not aim to reflect the complexities of any culture, city, or individual. All characters are entirely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.

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The bumbling sounds from your tiny kitchen caught your attention as soon as you got out of the phone call with your sister's husband. Once one anxious thought was gone, another one appeared out of the blue - what were they doing in there? They weren't messing with the boxes, were they? You took a deep breath, trying to calm down enough for you to have an interaction without yelling.

Rolling up your sleeves, you walked into your kitchen to deal with the next situation. The walls were covered with stacked boxes, so you almost couldn't see the old wallpaper. The noises were coming from your kitchen table, which still wasn't packed up. Vernon was sitting at the table with your niece, and the two of them had put out a paper plate with whatever snacks they could find, three glasses, and a bottle of water.

Your shoulders relaxed as you watched the two of them play pretend. They had clearly been trying to help you pack but had gotten distracted by your miscellaneous items. Vernon was wearing one of your scarves on his head and an old pair of sunglasses you had forgotten about - your niece wearing a matching pair. However, as soon as he saw you come in, he took off the glasses and sent you a gentle smile.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

It was all so ridiculous. Your sister was in the middle of an unexpectedly early childbirth, in the middle of you getting ready to move into your boyfriend's apartment, and here he was: playing dress-up with your niece. In some weird way, it was just what you needed - how Vernon could know you had no idea.

"She's fine," you finally replied with a tired smile. "It was a little bit of a surprise, but everything seems to be okay... what are the two of you doing?"

"We're just-"

"Stay in character!" your niece complained.

Vernon mouthed "Sorry," before putting the sunglasses back on and turning back to your niece. With his usual, matter-of-fact voice, he asked her what she thought about the weather. Your niece picked up her glass and took a sip of the water, making an exaggerated "ahh" as she put it back down.

"Too much rain," she responded with a nonchalant wave of her hand.

You could see Vernon have to restrain himself from laughing, his hand flying up to cover his smile. After clearing his throat, he nodded in agreement. You should be packing up the last of your stuff, the moving truck will arrive soon, and you should probably text your sister's husband again to ask him to send you updates. But right now, you could feel how tired you were in your bones. So, you sat down on the third chair and let Vernon pour you a glass of water. Then, he picked up the paper plate and held it out to you.

"Gummy worm?" he asked.

"How old are those?" You chuckled as you inspected the candies on the plate.

"I have no idea," he admitted. "But the cookies are from last week, I think."

You took a cookie and silently thanked him. Vernon and your niece continued their conversation about rain, which took a sharp turn when Vernon mentioned thunder - which was apparently very controversial in your niece's eyes. Any anxious feelings you had over moving in with Vernon were slowly disappearing. For a moment, you could truly let go of everything as Vernon kept your niece busy - and if he acted like this in a moment of crisis, maybe the two of you would do well living together.

"Bathroom break!" your niece suddenly exclaimed, clapping her hands together once to signal that the scene was over.

She hopped off her chair and walked away to your small bathroom. You had already taken all of the boxes out of there, so you knew that she would be okay on her own.

"She's a little director," Vernon said.

"She is," you murmured.

He gave you a long look, a silent "Are you really okay?" to which you responded with a nod. Vernon moved his chair closer to yours, wrapping his arms around you and slowly patting your head.

"You're doing good, babe," he muttered against the top of your head.

"Thank you."

"I'll go back to packing up and you could sit with her for a bit," he suggested. "Or I could do anything else you need."

"Packing sounds good," you hummed. "I just need to make sure she's not feeling neglected or anything, you know? My sister was worried."

Vernon let go of you and grabbed your hand to give it a comforting squeeze. He was still wearing the scarf and the sunglasses, and you could no longer keep a straight face. You snort and turn away from him, trying to shield yourself from breaking out into even more laughter.

"What?" he asked and tried to make you look at him again. "Am I not pretty?"

After taking a deep breath, you look back at him with a contained grin. Vernon cocks his head at you, clearly aware of the way he looks now but also determined to keep you smiling. Your niece eventually came back from the bathroom and climbed back onto her chair. The two of you looked at her expectantly as she cleared her throat.

"Bathroom break's over!" she chimed.

"Honey," you said carefully. "Is it okay if Vernon goes away to pack some more stuff and I stay here with you?"

Your niece glanced back and forth between the two of you before extending her hand to Vernon. He carefully removed his scarf and glasses and placed them into her small, outstretched palm.

"You've been replaced!" your niece exclaimed dramatically as she handed you the items. "I'll give you the roll as long as you stay in character!"

As you and Vernon erupted into laughter, your niece continued to mimic the voice of a director before she eventually joined you in your mirth. Everything that could go wrong today, did go wrong - yet, it felt bearable with Vernon by your side. Observing his banter with your niece might have seemed like a man simply engaging in make-believe with his partner's niece others, but to you, it was a deeply serene and comforting scene. You knew with certainty that your future was in reliable hands.

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[shion-yu]

Day 30: Contagion

We made it, folks! I really pushed myself to finish @sicktember and I’m so proud I did. For this last work I decided to just let go and do something different. TW for fictional contagion and some mess. Like, contagion is all it is. Which is not something I usually write, but I was inspired by @poetryandsniffles “Going Around” at 3am. It starts with unnamed characters and ends with you. Hope someone enjoys this. As you guys might know, snz isn't fully my thing but I know I have a lot of followers for whom it is, so this is for you. 1,933 words, TW fictional contagion.

It’s Saturday, and all the new freshmen students are moving into the dorms down the street. The bookseller is ready for them, knowing all the students are eager to exercise their first taste of freedom and want to window shop in their new college town. It's probably his busiest day of the year, which is why he absolutely cannot close the store despite the wretched cold he woke up with. He has a cough that won't let him finish a sentence without interrupting himself, and being surrounded by all the used books is making the sneezes that overtake him every minute even worse. He’s putting an old tome of Shakespeare away when he hears the bell ring, signaling a customer. He closes the book and accidentally inhales a noseful of dust. He tries to say, “Welcome,” but instead all he gets out is “Wehh - heee - ahh hatchoo!” 

“Bless you!” It's definitely a freshman, round glasses overtaking half her face and her little homemade clay earrings dangling on either side. 

“Tdangks,” the bookseller mumbles, snorting a huge noseful of congestion up into his face in an attempt to clear his voice. Apparently that's the wrong move, because it causes him to erupt into a harsh round of coughing that forces him to sit down behind his desk. 

The freshman doesn't seem to mind. She’s too interested in looking around the store, fascinated by the used books. The bookseller nurses his poor nose into the fiftieth tissue of the morning, blowing as hard as he can yet it doesn't seem to clear the congestion. He hasn't been this sick in ages. Why did it have to be today of all days?

“I’ll take this, please.”

The bookseller looks up to find the freshman standing in front of him, holding none other than the thick Shakespeare tome he just put away. The one that he knows he really should have wiped down before shelving. 

“Are you sure you want this one?” He asks hesitantly.

“Why?”

Explaining feels like too much work, and bad business. The bookseller shakes his head. “No reason,” he says, coughing into his elbow. “That’ll be $10.80.”

~.~.~.~

It’s well known that a cold isn't uncommon in the beginning of the semester, but the freshman can't believe it took less than a week for her to get hit with this plague. It’s only the end of the first day of classes when she feels a tickle in her throat that makes her cough. By evening she’s feeling the chill of an incoming fever, and by the next morning she feels like she’s been hit by a bus. This feels worse than just a cold, but it's literally the second day of classes in her first year of university. She can't afford to take a sick day so soon.

And so, the freshman drags herself to her English 101 lecture where she continues to cough and shiver, clutching the hoodie she's wearing around her ever tighter. Her bones ache and she feels like she desperately needs to be in bed, but this lecture is three hours long. Three torturous hours, and it's not a huge class. Everybody can hear her coughing away, she's sure of it. She's so embarrassed by her noisiness - the rustle as she plucks out tissue after tissue from the box she's helplessly taken to carrying around. The petite sniffle she's trying to hold back every few seconds, but if she doesn't her nose will be streaming. The stifled sneezes that more than often result in additional chesty coughs. By the end of the lecture she’s so cold and miserable that she's not sure she's going to make it to her next class, which is chemistry 100. 

Somehow she does, and before most of the other students too. She figures now is a good time to try and blow her nose as loudly as possible. Maybe if she can empty it out, she won't be so disruptive at this lecture. She blows into a tissue hard, and it makes her nose tickle. She can't hold it back, and she scrambles to grab another tissue - but it's too late. She ducks her head to the side and sneezes, uncovered, spraying the space next to her. Thankfully no one’s sat down yet. She hastily tries to clean the desk with the tissue, but she stupidly didn't bring any hand sanitizer and the desk is still gleaming with germs when a boy comes in and sits right next to her. 

He greets her and introduces himself as a football player who’s retaking the class. The freshman can't help but watch in horror as he puts his hands all over the desk, then proceeds to bite his nails. She can't just apologize, but she does so in her head, knowing he’s doomed. 

~.~.~.~

The football player is pretty pissed that he’s managed to catch something already. He doesn't have any time for a cold, especially not so early in the season. It doesn't matter that it’s cold for September, or that it's raining, or that he already had chills before practice started. He’s got to push through for the sake of the team, and also his reputation and scholarship. And he still has to finish that chemistry assignment. Who gives such a long homework in the first two weeks of classes? It should be illegal.

He’s drying off in the locker room, a now very wet cough echoing against the metal lockers. He changes into clean clothes, but he still feels sticky with sweat and rain water. He shivers and shleps off to his chemistry professor's office hours. He needs an extension.

The professor doesn't look happy to see him dripping and sniffling when he shows up at his door. “C’mon, professor, I just need a few days. It's the beginning of the season, I can't fall behind already, and I’m - koff koff koff - sick.”

“I can see that,” the professor says in mild disgust. “But I don't make exceptions. Not even for athletes,” she says before he can protest. 

“That's not fair,” the football player complains. “I really am s-siii-”

The professor tries to duck, but it's too late. The football player sneezes, only poorly half covering. “Sorry,” he says hoarsely.

“I think you'd better go home and lie down,” the professor says in a clipped tone. There's some spray on the corner of her glasses, much to both of their chagrin. “And skip practice tomorrow.”

“Yes ma'am,” the football player says. He’s too ashamed of himself now to keep begging. The professor sprays lysol all over her office and hopes it’ll be enough.

~.~.~.~

It’s not enough. By the end of the week the professor, too, is full of cold. She has to lecture through it, even though she barely has a voice and nearly spills chemical solutions on herself trying to contain her sneezes into her shoulder while holding glass beakers. The students keep blessing her, and that irritates her more than anything because it's their damn fault she’s sick. She's trying to make tenure though, and isn't about to call out, so she pushes through. Every sneeze hitches in the back of her throat as she tries to hold back, making a girlish noise that kills her inside a little. 

She’s already passed the cold along to her husband, your coworker, who has an immune system as good as a preschooler. She can't wait to get home where she can just relax. Her legs are cramping from standing for so long in heels, her makeup is running because of all the congestion, and she keeps making errors while lecturing that she never would otherwise. This cold is so embarrassing and comes with all the visible symptoms: cough, congestion, sneezing, fever. It's impossible to hide.

Her coworkers have even taken notice and mentioned she ought to take it easy, which the professor absolutely will not be doing. So what if she has to cough through her lectures? So what if the students in the front row may or may not be nursing colds of their own in a week? She has to work, that's just how it is. No exceptions, she tells her students. Not even for herself.

~.~.~.~

You can hear your coworker coughing from his cubicle opposite you. Yesterday he said his wife was sick, and today he seems to have brought her cold to share with everyone. How generous of him, you think dryly. You cringe as you hear him blow his nose again, a wet, harsh sound that is the audible equivalent of contagion. And now - oh no. Now he's coming to you.

“I've got the report done,” your coworker says as he approaches. His eyes are red rimmed and watery, nose raw red from blowing and his lips parted in an awkward fashion because he can't breathe properly. And now he's blowing germs all over your desk.

You take the report from him and hope to shoo him away quickly with a thank you, but no such luck. He bends over your desk and starts to explain part of the report that apparently, he finds is not self explanatory enough. You can hear the whistle of blocked sinuses and his voice crackles with congestion. “Does that make sense?” He asks, standing up and sniffling. He runs his temple, clearly also trying to work through a headache.

“Yes, perfect sense,” you tell your coworker. It doesn't matter if it made sense or not, you wish he'd just go away. “You don't look so good. Why don't you go home?” You ask.

“It's not so bad - snrrk!” He says before snorting loudly. “I can deal with it.”

“I see,” you say. And apparently everyone else has to deal with it, too. 

~.~.~.~

You hope you'll get lucky. That Emergen-C and hand sanitizer will save you - but it doesn't. Because a few days later you, too, wake up with an ache in your head and chest and a shiver that won't go away despite several fall layers of clothing. You have a cough that snaps and crackles against your sore throat and the sinus pressure behind your eyes throbs. You haven't even made it out of bed before you're overtaken by a round of three loud sneezes in succession. You’re definitely sick.

Unlike your coworker, you're not about to work through this cold. You feel too lousy, and the fever you're running is way too high to ignore. It's everywhere, this fever: deep in your bones, making everything ache from head to toe. You spend the day in bed, shivering and coughing away. The bed becomes a sea of used tissues, the small trashcan long since overflowing. The fever must be making you emotional, because you can't help but tear up a little when your partner finally comes home. 

“Aw, baby,” they say sympathetically. They press their cold hands against your hot cheeks and wet washcloths to cool you down. They climb into bed with you and cuddle you, your throbbing head and streaming nose in their lap, and don't complain about how you're getting snot all over their knee. “Poor love,” they say. “You’ll be better soon.”

You close your eyes and just listen to your partner’s soothing voice. In a few days, this will all be over, you tell yourself. Whatever this cold or flu from hell is, you’ll be back at it by next week. For right now though, you decide to just rely on your partner completely. Let them dote on you, take care of you, and hope you don’t get them - and didn't get too many others - sick, too.

[wintaerbaer]

things we don't say: part 5.5 (interlude) (kth) (m)

banner credit: @itaeewon

summary: Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.

pairing: Taehyung x Reader (with some VERY brief Seokjin x Reader and Yoongi x Reader)

rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

genres: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slooooow burn, angst, fluff

word count: 2.1k

chapter warnings: maya and jk are fighting again :( , and also SMUT in the form of: lots of kissing, light/brief breastplay, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), missionary, creampie, a throwback to part 2, they’re so vanilla but it suits them

a/n: a huge thank you to @btsborahaee for beta-ing on extremely short notice! you’re the best! and an extra thank you, too, to everyone who has shown this series love. it truly means the world <3

listening rec: pieces by andrew belle

PREVIOUS // SERIES MASTERLIST

Read on ao3

The night is beginning to wind down, thick summer air turning cool and the noise from inside the venue softening with every passing moment. It’s peaceful—the kind of pleasant exhaustion that marks the end of a big day. Jungkook stretches out at the patio table, resting his hands behind his head. As much as he enjoys a party—loves the pounding of music and the press of bodies—he has to admit that this is pretty nice too, the ease that comes with good company and a more intimate setting.

It also helps that Maya and Mingyu have rejoined the group, settling his imagination, which had been running rampant while they were gone.

“Tae and Y/N haven’t come back this way, have they?” Jimin wonders, peering around as if he thinks that saying your names will cause you to appear.

“I haven’t seen them since dinner,” Maya says.

Joshua shifts in his seat, tilting his head out of curiosity. “What’s their deal anyway?”

It’s like a collective sigh passes through half the table. A heavy breath that’s half amusement, half exasperation. “You noticed?” Jimin asks with a smirk.

Wonwoo coughs out a laugh—a loud bark that draws all eyes to him.

He clears his throat and adjusts his glasses. “Nothing. Sorry.”

“He’s in love with her,” Maya says, ever-direct. “Has been for as long as I’ve known them. Probably longer. But he’s too afraid to make a move.”

Mingyu sighs in understanding at her side. “Ahh, been there.”

“You have?”

He turns his head and regards her warily, like he didn’t quite mean to say that and he’s just remembered that he’s in the presence of a relative stranger. “Uh, yeah. With one of my friends in high school.”

“What happened?”

He hesitates, picking through his words carefully. “I spent freshman year of college gathering up the courage to tell her how I felt once we were both home for summer break.” A shrug flows down his back. “She rejected me.”

“Aw, Mingyu, I’m sorry,” Maya coos, and the enamored look on her face makes Jungkook nauseous.

“It’s fine. I moved on,” Mingyu says (A shame, Jungkook thinks). “But I can understand your friend’s predicament. Maybe it will work out for him though.”

A rush of boldness floods Jungkook’s veins, and he leans forward, looking deliberately at Maya. “It could definitely work out for him,” he insists, “because Y/N has been hurt in the past, and Tae understands that. He wants her to know that things could be different, but she just needs to let him in. That’s the problem.”

Maya’s eyes flash, clearly catching the double entendre of what he’s saying. “The problem,” she spits, “is that people have a pattern. And Tae’s pattern is that he’s far too scared to take a risk. Abandonment issues run deep, but some people don’t understand and respect that.”

“I und—“

“Tae has his reasons,” Jimin jumps in, defending his friend. “He just needs time.”

Maya snorts, and Jungkook can tell he’s hit a nerve as she continues her rant, the rest of the group quietly looking on in a mix of unease or confusion. “Time? Give me a break. He’s had almost twenty years worth of time.” She crosses her arms as she rolls her eyes to the heavens, scoffing a laugh of defeat. “Honestly? If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that people don’t change. People who sleep around will continue to sleep around.” She pierces Jungkook with a look he feels in the marrow of his bones. “And guys like Tae will always have a reason to be afraid.”

Her head shakes, and Jungkook thinks she might be holding back tears.

“At this rate, we’ll all be dead before he makes a move.”

Taehyung’s mouth is relentless.

From the moment you lean forward, his lips chase yours—desperately seeking—and barely even give you the time and space to breathe. Like he no longer sees use for oxygen.

If someone had asked you a week ago what you thought kissing Taehyung would be like, you would've said careful and calculated, just like he usually is during the day-to-day. But instead, you're getting all fire and a hunger you didn't know he was capable of—urgency in the rough pace of his mouth and the frantic ministrations of his hands digging into the nape of your neck, angling you towards him.

For what it's worth, you meet him beat for beat, nipping at his lower lip, sliding your tongue against his, and tangling your fingers into the thick mane of his hair. A groan emanates from someone's throat—you're not even sure whose—and suddenly, he's gripping you around the waist to drag you across his lap with a growl until you're straddling his hips, crowding him against the headboard as he clutches you to him tightly.

You press closer, closer, closer, crushing your lips together for a bruising kiss and savoring the feel of his arms banded across your back, and the only thing you can think is that you can’t believe you didn’t do this sooner. He’s heaven incarnate, the taste of him ambrosia and nectar, and you can’t get enough.

It’s not enough.

You finally pull away for air, and his lips, still seeking skin, trace a path across your jawline and down the column of your neck as your fingers find their way to the buttons on his shirt. You’re frenzied, fumbling as you undo them one-by-one and let out a gasp of relief as the fabric falls open and allows you access to the warm skin underneath. You greedily run your hands over his chest and stomach, desperate for more, more, more, and he responds in kind, slipping his own palms under the cotton of your pajamas as he continues to nibble at your neck and groaning when he finds you bra-less.

Warm palms cup your breasts, thumbs brushing lightly over perked nipples, and you move to push his shirt down his shoulders, immediately leaning in to bite and suck at the protrusion of his collarbone.

His head falls back against the headboard, and for the first time since you kissed him, he rasps out, “Y/N, my God.”

It sets your blood on fire, the guttural, fucked-out sound of his voice. But you miss the feel of his lips. “Don’t stop,” you murmur, stripping yourself of your own top and diving forward to kiss him again.

He moans once more, the vibrations dancing along your tongue, and the thought repeats that you should’ve been kissing this man every damn day. Should’ve been embracing him at every chance like your life depended on it.

From here on out, you think it just might.

You trail your hands down his torso, and he bucks his hips underneath you, drawing your attention to the hardness pressed against your pelvis.

“Tae,” you gasp, breaking away, and he takes the opportunity to arch his back and pull a nipple into his mouth. “Taehyung.”

But he’s not listening, purely focused on the mounds of your breasts, and so you take it upon yourself to torque your body, flipping the two of you until you’re on your back, and his weight is digging you into the mattress.

The change in position causes a temporary slow in movement, affording you new skin to explore as you roam the expanse of his back, Taehyung’s fingers reverently tracing the lines of your ribcage. It’s not long, however, before your motions ramp back up as you work to shimmy off your pants and clumsily free him of his own.

Finally bare to him, you slow down for real this time as his own touches become tentative, the warm air of the hotel room on his skin seeming to sober him up a fraction. He pauses with a hand on your hip, his other arm braced at the side of your head, not seeming to know what to do next.

Bold and eager—yet sure of your next move—you wrap your fingers around the smooth length of him, relishing the sharp intake of breath you feel at your ear.

“Need you,” you whisper. “Need you, Tae.”

He hesitates only a second longer before his fingers are dipping down between your legs, the two of you sighing in sync at the feeling. You line him up, raising your head to brush a gentle kiss to his mouth, trying to transmit confidence as you fold your legs around his waist.

A stoppage in time as he bumps his nose against yours. Flutters soft breath across your cheeks.

And then he pushes in.

Your lungs cease to function, every cell in your body focused on that single point of connection. You're whole. Full. Complete. Amazed at the ease with which you fit together—two puzzle pieces finding their match. And Taehyung is certainly not unaffected himself as he pulls back to look at you, emotion swimming in his gaze.

“Y/N,” he whispers. His forehead drops to yours, his lips still ghosting your skin. And it could be a trick of the light, a haze brought on by the hormones currently coursing through your body, but his eyes look wet. “My angel.”

He kisses you then, slow and deep, taking his time as you both adjust to the feeling of him inside of you. You've never felt this comfortable with anyone before, never trusted someone so fully to see you at your most intimate and vulnerable. And he may have called you an angel, but with him above you like this—hovering, ethereal, and burning against you—you think it might actually be him who's heaven-sent. Your beautiful, beautiful man.

His hand charts a course up your body, guiding your arm upwards until it's resting by your head and he can lace your fingers together with a sigh. One more press of his mouth to yours, a gentle nip at your ear, and then he pulls his hips back—only to gradually ease back in centimeter by centimeter.

The process repeats, the pace slow but not lazy, deliberate intent behind every controlled thrust of his hips. It drives you crazy—the unhurried drag of him, the way he's allowing both of you to savor every nerve and inch of flesh until nothing is taken for granted. Your free hand maps his back, legs wrapping around him even more tightly, and he hitches your thigh to his waist so he can push deeper.

Stars circle through your vision, every sense overwhelmed by him: the press of his hips, the scattered kisses across your neck, the symphony of your mewls and his moans.

It's perfect—he's perfect—and before you even realize it, you're riding the edge of your high, entire body tensing in anticipation.

He notices, dropping his hand low again to rub at your clit and turning the stars you're seeing into constellations.

“Let go. I've got you, baby,” he murmurs. “I've got you.”

It's the low timbre of his voice that ultimately does it, and you fall apart, trembling so forcefully that he releases your hand to wrap his arms around your torso, locking the two of you together. He rides it out with you until he tips over the edge himself, spilling inside with a rumble in his chest like thunder.

One, two, three breaths in.

And it’s over.

Everything stills, the two of you a heaping pile of sweaty skin and heaving chests. And while your head is mostly empty, wiped clean by the experience you just shared with him—perhaps, now, the most important thing you've ever shared with him—a single fact of your new reality persists.

You want him. You need him.

You love him.

He pulls out with a groan and rolls off you, tugging you into his side. You know you should head to the bathroom, should clean up, but the emotional and physical exhaustion and the lure of his skin has you cuddling at his chest.

As your eyelids droop, the promise of sleep looming, he mumbles something, the words blending together in a tangle. You lift your head, heart jolting at the sight of his blissed out face.

“What?”

But he's already fallen asleep, tiny puffs of air slipping through his lips.

You think about nudging him back awake, think about asking him what he just said, where this leaves you, what you’re feeling yourself. But you decide against it, the expression on his face too peaceful to disturb.

It’s been seventeen years leading to this moment, right?

What’s one more day?

a/n: they finally got there :) but there's still a lot of story left! pls consider liking, reblogging, leaving a comment, or sending an ask in the meantime!

[ladykibutsuji]

If you can't, who will?

Obanai Iguro x Reader

Angst: Unrequited love with a twist~

Normal Timeline

I don't own the pictures used!

February 14th

I'm not a big fan of February.

'Day of Romance' they say but for me it's a day of torture.

Watching other people love each other as I stare enviously.

How unfair is that?

“Y/N~ The chocolates are ready”

You snapped out your thoughts as shinobu called out for you, she and Aoi helped you with making Valentine's chocolate since you informed shinobu about wanting to give someone a chocolate for valentine's

You walked towards her and Aoi staring at the chocolates that the 3 of you made together, although shinobu was a very busy person she decided to make time for valentine's.

Shinobu took a piece of chocolate and placed it Infront of your mouth "Say ahh~", You opened your mouth as shinobu gently put the chocolate in your mouth. The chocolate slowly melted in your tongue and you could taste how delicious it was, "This is so good and delicious thank you for helping me Shinobu and Aoi" you hummed.

Aoi gave you a smile while shinobu patted your head "My, my there's no need to thank me..Friends are always there for each other aren't they?" Shinobu paused for a while until something a random question in her thoughts "Now come to think of it you never told us about the person you will give it to I wonder who is it? Mind telling us Y/N?"

The moment you heard shinobu's question you immediately froze on spot while Aoi temporarily stopped baking since she was also curious about the answer you will provide, They stared at you with curiousity and you are just continuously sweating deciding whether you should tell them or not.

The room was too quiet because you are refusing to answer so shinobu jumped to conclusions as she gasped "Don't Tell me it's Tomioka!" You just shook your head denying her assumption as you grabbed a box full of chocolate and excusing yourself to leave "Sorry Shinobu! I'll be back soon I- uh I'm not feeling well"

"If you are not feeling well I could always he-"

"NO THANKS!"

You dashed out the door leaving both shinobu and Aoi stunned, "Wait Ms. Y/N!" Aoi tried to call you but you are already running away and far. To them you are a pretty calm person so they are shocked and surprised to see you acting that way. Shinobu and Aoi just stared at each other laughing the situation off "Y/N is really a mysterious person isn't she? I'm still wondering who's the lucky guy though.."

STOMP STOMP

You kept on running and running until the butterfly mansion is out of view, you are too embarrassed to face them nor even answer the question shinobu asked

After all, they knew about Iguro's love for mitsuri

Some things are better to be kept.

BUMP

You accidentally bumped into someone and was about to fall down to the floor until someone caught your arms on time

"I'm sorry! I wasn't looking! A-" you were about to say something until you suddenly realized who it was

It was no other than the guy who stole your heart

But never being able to return it.

"Iguro!" You quickly got on your feet as you slightly bowed to him apologizing for accidentally running into him, "Keep your head up Y/N, It's fine."

You slightly blushed just by hearing his Voice, who wouldn't? he's hot

You then thought about the box of chocolate resting in your hand and since he was already here you might aswell just give him the chocolate and confess your feelings for him that is bottled up for years.

Though it was clear to you that he likes someone else

But taking the risk is not bad is it?

"It's been a while Iguro..I-" You are so lost in your thoughts that you didn't notice him walking away "eh?" You are a bit confused at first since he was fast then you shook your head and raised your voice loud enough for him to hear you "Wait Iguro!", Iguro continued walking as if you didn't called out for him "I'm busy."

"But it's important!" After hearing the word 'Important' he stopped walking. as much as he doesn't want to waste his time because he have a date with mitsuri He decided to hear you out "Make it quick, I still have to go to Kocho's mansion to retrieve my forgotten item and a schedule to attend."

You then took out a letter from your pockets and placed it on top of the box of chocolate that you are going to give him and slowly walked towards him

"This is for you.." You said shyly as you handed him the box of chocolate with the letter, he stared at you with disgust before taking the chocolate and letter you gave him

"What's this for?" He asked as kaburamaru tried to get closer to the chocolate, you gave kaburamaru a head pat that he seems to have enjoy "For valentine's" you responded.

"Get your filthy hands off kaburamaru." You were a bit taken aback by his words since before he really didn't mind you petting kaburamaru infact he even lets you have kaburamaru on your neck for days "Oh I'm sorry.." After you stopped petting kaburamaru he was upset and hissed at Iguro

"and about the letter... it's about what I feel for you for these past fe-"

"I don't have time to listen to your non-sense."

He dropped the chocolate box as he ripped the letter apart leaving you flabbergasted, "Weakness disgust me in other words YOU disgust me. You are just a kinoe so stop talking to me so casually." Even kaburamaru was shock that he had had wide eyes

But why? I was there for you when you had nothing

"I see... I'm sorry for bothering you."

"You should be, I'm only accepting letters and chocolate from mitsuri so if you don't mind I'll be taking my leave." You gave him a slight nod with a smile and before Iguro was about to leave he gave you his final rejection words "I can't love someone who's as weak as you." He then disappeared while you are still standing at the same spot where the man you love and admired for years rejected you worse is that he even bad mouthed you.

You are holding back tears while a million thoughts raced in your head

Was I ever enough?

But why I was there??

I was the one who helped you escape

FLASHBACK:

"this flower reminds me of you! It's so pretty"

"You think I'm Pretty?" You asked as he nodded happily, he placed the flowers in your hair as you return him a gentle smile, Iguro sticking his arms out of his cage is easier due to the fact of how big the gap is and he was skinny at the time

"give him that food"

You and Iguro could hear distance noises which mean someone is about to come at Iguro's cage so you quickly had to leave before the both of you get caught

"I'm sorry Iguro, I'll be back I promise.."

"Wait before you go!" He held your hand tightly from the behind his cage as he looked at you looking a little shy

"If we ever get out of this hell... Promise me that we will get married someday"

"I promise"

"Hello Y/N, how are you?"

Hearing a familiar voice you snapped out of your own thoughts from the past and stared at the man who is now in front of you

The man Infront of you is Giyuu tomioka, The water hashira himself.

"Oh Tomioka!" You slightly bowed greeting him "Are you going to Shinobu?"

"Yes but since you are also here, I have something for you"

He then pulled out a small bouquet of flowers from the bag he is holding and handed them to you, at first you are shock that he would give you something like that so you had your hand on your mouth

"is this really okay?" You asked before taking the flowers, "Yes, it's for you"

With your delusional brain you thought that he had a crush on you or this was his way of saying "I like you" so you slightly blushed at the thought and was happy that after all these years someone is able to love you

Oh boy how wrong you are

"Tanjiro told me I should give these to the other hashira to make friends"

Oh.

"But I'm a kinoe?" You tilted your head in confusion while holding the flowers he just gave you, Giyuu stared at you for a while before answering "I know but I acknowledge your strength so I'm giving you one." He gently patted your head before walking away not noticing the smile he had on his face

However his words aren't useful

You still thought to yourself that you are nothing but a weak human being

After all if you are really strong you could of have been a hashira yeah? But you are just a kinoe.

A useless one

Would anyone really love such a weak person like you?

Can anyone love someone like you?

Back at your estate, you are just in your garden sulking even your crow is concerned

Earlier, Kyojuro came to visit you to greet you a "happy valentine's" and gave you delicious desserts but you ignored him so he was sad and he left your estate with a broken heart

Poor kyojuro:(

"Y/N! Y/N! Are you dead?"

You have been sulking for hours and not moving a muscle that your crow assumed you died on spot

KNOCK KNOCK

"Y/N! Someone is at the door!"

You Ignored the noises and continued sulking so your crow had no other choice but to get the door itself "If this continued you might as well get eaten by a demon!" The crow hurried to the door

You pulled your knees to your chest as you buried your own face onto it tears started to form.

"I was there, I was the one who accepted him ever since we were kids.." you said to yourself as millions of thoughts continued raging in your head

"if he can't love me..who will?"

"I will"

You flinched at the response you weren't expecting and turned around only to find mitsuri with a bouquet of flowers, chocolate, and a wrapped gift with your crow on her shoulder

"Mitsuri! I didn't expect you to visit all of the sudden" you wiped off the tears in your eyes and fixed your hair that is a bit messy because of the wind "I'm sorry if you have to see me like this"

"she won't stop sulking for hours! I told you she's crazy I'm leaving her to you!" The crow then flied far away from both you and mitsuri

"see you like what? I don't get what you are talking about your face is still shining as bright" she approached you closer and sat Infront of you after she sat Infront of you she tucked your hair behind your ears as her eyes stared deeply into yours "Your beauty is really incomparable"

What's the meaning of this?

Flattered by her words you couldn't find the right words to say "a-aren't you supposed to be on a date with aguro? I mean oguro? No.. Obama!" You are too much of a mess to say Iguro's name right

Mitsuri let out a light hearted laugh upon seeing your reaction that she thinks it's adorable "Well..I didn't really think that it was a date I thought we were only hanging out as friends until he told me confessed about his feelings for me..." She paused for a little smiling at you "But of course I rejected him because I want you!"

This isn't right

"Aren't we both women?" You asked nervously, mitsuri put her finger on your lips as a signal of 'Shush' "So what now if we are both women? It's not a crime to love each other"

"but what about Iguro?" A question after a question though mitsuri doesn't mind answering all of your questions even if it seems like there is no end to your questions "He doesn't matter now does he?"

She said that as if it was a normal thing, "Anyways! I'm excited for you to open this gift of mine! Open it" mitsuri handed you her gift and this made you curious of what's inside so you unwrapped it slowly trying not to damage what's inside.

After unwrapping it you found a tulip hairpin inside of it and it was stunning "This is really pretty mitsuri! Thank you" you gave her a warm smile while hugging her which made mitsuri die in happiness

Mitsuri was delighted that you appreciated her gift so she returned the hug by embracing you more tightly! She almost crushed you to death btw

After pulling away from the hug mitsuri asked you if she could put the hairpin on your hair to which you agreed to, she then gently placed the hairpin on your preferred spot

"do you wanna know why I choosed a tulip hairpin?" She asked while she's still fixing your hair, "why?"

"it's to represent my deep love for you!" She stated with a big smile on her face, to be honest you really don't know what to feel because you didn't expect for a Woman (Especially mitsuri) to take a liking to you but then again you decided to give mitsuri a chance because like she said 'Gender doesn't matter as long as the both of you truly love each other'

"I know you are confused right now Y/N but my love for you is real and I'm not expecting you to reciprocate it I just wanted you to know" her words caught you off guard "I also want you to know that if nobody can settle down with you I will!"

After iguro's harsh words you no longer feel bad about yourself thanks to mitsuri, you are about to say something until she spoke first

"I have a question for you Y/N"

"Yes?"

"Can I court you?"

The choice is yours Reader.

Happy pride month everybody!

• I'm aware that in this fanfiction the events occurred on February but in the real world it's June which is pride month!

• since it's pride month I'll reveal my sexuality to my lovely followers

• I'm actually bisexual though I mostly date women rather than men.

• Thank you so much for the people who reads my fanfictions! No words can express on how thankful I am for those who supports me<3

[concerningwolves]

Hey! Do you have any tips for breaking writers block when you're adhd and/or autistic? Be it your own tips or a link to another post? My friend and I need help haha

Ahh sorry you got buried under spam and old ask game asks. (I... really need to sort my ask box >.<' ). But here we go, a month late, and hopefully better late than never:

Quick ideas for beating writer's block when autistic and/or ADHD

I've got this old post I wrote on writer's block and focus troubles. Ironically, this was before my autism diagnosis but the tips still happen to be things I, an autistic person, did to manage writing when faced with executive dysfunction (except I didn't know what executive dysfunction was at that point lol). I'm linking this with one important caveat, though: if you have ADHD, "stepping away" might do more harm than good; struggling to start tasks is a Big Thing with ADHD, so not starting the task at all is entirely counterproductive. (Unless you're in burnout! Here's a post about the differences between block and burnout with some ideas on what to do for each, in case that's at all helpful to you).

And here's something yoinked from another old ask-answer:

sometimes a break from more “serious” writing is what you need. Maybe try and take the characters from your main project and drop them somewhere else for the hell of it. I like to throw my characters into the MCU without warning like “lmao have fun in a strange modern world where there are gods and a guy in an iron flying suit bye.” Or, if fandom cross-overs aren’t your thing, find a writing prompt or take an idea you like and use it to form a short story with your characters instead.

Some other ideas I've seen around for writer's block with ADHD/Autism are:

Try voice recording or text to speech (i.e., absolute stream-of-consciousness unfiltered brain-to-mouth, giving yourself permission to 100% bullshit if you like, and see what rattles loose in the brain box)

Stream of consciousness writing in general, not even necessarily about a particular prompt or particular project. This one can be done in combination with:

Writing sprints! One minute timers, two minute timers, five minutes – set it for as long as you want, but when you're fighting executive dysfunction and/or difficulty focusing, the burst of urgency that comes from a shorter timer is very helpful.

And speaking of the sense of urgency: gamify your writing! There are different ways to do this, with varying elements of risk. I'll link some ways to do this at the end under "resources".

Exercise. I don't necessarily mean hitting the gym, but a quick burst of exercise prior to writing to get the heart rate up can help wake your brain up a bit. (Or, if you find repetitive exercise mind-numbingly boring like I do, the writing sure does start to look appealing lol).

Meditation. Okay, this one is sort of 🤔 for me, because I do often hear from fellow autistics and our ADHD cousins that meditation is literally impossible for us. It is for me. But! Like with exercise above, if meditation bores you instead of helping relax and ""clear your mind"", you can probably use that boredom to your advantage. Or, it might work as intended.

Change your workspace/situation/routine. Sometimes the problem is that you need new sensory input, or that your brain has gotten thoroughly bored and decided not to tell you. Use a different chair. Move to the kitchen table. Write at a different time of day. Have a different snack (or try having a snack while writing...). Basically, look at what you're currently trying, and see how you can do it differently.

It's also really good practise to get comfortable with Being Bad At Writing. Perfectionism and Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria are the biggest, meanest brain weasels with the sharpest teeth. Don't let them bully you. It sucks. It takes a lot of time and effort and internal work, which is why I was loathe to include this on a post of quick solutions, but. It is important.

And getting comfortable with this doesn't necessarily mean learning how to accept critique, or accepting that sometimes you'll write things that suck. It means accepting that sometimes you won't handle critique or feedback well, and also accepting that you won't always manage to beat the writer's block or be productive. Sometimes you have to make peace with the fact that you're going to feel horrible, feel your feelings, and try to remind yourself on the other side that none of it means you're a talentless hack.

Resources

Anything with a 🪙 next to it is paid only (I've tried to limit these and find alternatives).

The resources are split into things that "gameify" writing (i.e., hack your dopamine/serotonin in ways that reaaaaallly help autistic and ADHD folks), writing programs that are designed to help you focus, writing programs that track your habits and appeal to the "ohhhh numbers going up" brain, focus-aiding apps, and some miscellaneous stuff. Under the cut to save your dashes.

"Gamifying" your writing:

The Most Dangerous Writing App – You can't stop typing before your set timer runs out, or you risk losing your work. Excellent for warming up, stream-of-consciousness, or if you're feeling reckless, working on your actual project. I did a lot of the second draft of When Dealing with Wolves on this thing (it was terrifying yet highly effective).

Written? Kitten! – Get rewarded for meeting your set writing wordcount with kitten pictures. Haven't used this one personally, but heard wonderful things about it.

4TheWords 🪙 – This one gamifies writing in the most literal sense. As in, it's an online game where you defeat monsters, explore and level up by writing words. I did the free trial a couple years back, and I've heard there are a lot of different ways you can lower the subscription cost. The only reason I haven't gone back to it is because I feel like I can't justify spending money on it when I'm doing fine with Scrivener and free resources, but maybe one day I will purely for the fun factor...

StimuWrite – similar idea to Written Kitten; the app provides visual/audio stimulation while you write, which is great for many ADHD-ers and autistics. There's a progress bar, soundscape options, typing effects and emoji reactions as rewards, among other features.

Write or Die – This is The Most Dangerous Writing App meets Written Kitten. As far as I can figure out, the basic web version is free to use; you can set the parameters like how how long you want to write for, how many words to reach, and whether you want rewards for meeting goals or punishments for failing to meet them. There's also a stimulus mode, where the nice auditory stimulus goes away if you stop writing.

Minimalist/Focus writing programs:

Focus Writer [Windows] – thoroughly stripped-down minimalist word processor. As far as I know, it has basic functions like find-replace, but mostly it's designed only for writing. Not for formatting, spellchecking or editing.

iA Writer 🪙 [iOS] – Similar to Focus Writer, it's designed to fill your screen with a simple workspace. Allows you to use markdown formatting, and has a feature called Focus Mode that blurs out everything except the sentence you're typing. (If I could find a Windows-friendly alternative to this with that same feature I would be so happy). A cheaper alternative is 1Writer, but that doesn't have the focus mode.

Typewrite Something – Absolutely bare minimum web-based typewriter simulator. Basically just a blank screen that you start typing on, and the words appear in a typewriter font. Great for stream-of-consciousness without the risk level of TMDWA because you can't backspace. If you don't like the clacky sound, turn off your volume.

Focus Apps

Cold Turkey – Block applications and websites on your laptop/computer for a specified period of time. You can even block the entire internet.

Forest – Similar to Cold Turkey in that it stops you from seeking distractions or getting distracted. Set a timer and the app starts growing a tree. If you leave the app, the tree dies. Once you have a tree, you add it to your forest.

Habit-building writing programs:

Novlr – Simple, minimal layout, and tracks your writing goals per month and day, and your daily streak. There are more features in the plus and pro versions, and you can only have five projects in the free version, but otherwise it looks like a good free alternative to the next two programs:

750 Words 🪙 – Made for free writing, but also very useful for drafting. I had it for a month or so a while back on the free trial. It tracks writing streaks and gives you fun graphs and statistics at the end of each session, including number of distractions, actual typing time vs total time and average words per minute. Also, it analyses the mood of what you wrote, which I always found delightful.

Writing Analytics 🪙 – If writing streaks, badges and analytical graphs get your dopamine going, then I really recommend this one. The writing screen itself is very minimalistic, but it still shows your writing speed (I loved watching that go up) and your goal progress. In terms of analytics, it tracks a LOT of different things, including time spent writing vs revising, average wordcounts per day/month/year, and words written vs words deleted. I used this for about a year before I switched to Scrivener, and the switch was purely because I needed something that wasn't subscription-based. (Apparently since I stopped using it there's also a new feature that lets you create private writing rooms and see other writer's progress).

Misc.

WriteTrack – Not a word processor, but it has very good tools for tracking and planning your writing. Again, if graphs going up helps your brain, this is excellent, but you can't see it in real time.

10 ADHD-friendly brain tricks for writers – what it says on the tin: ten tips for writers with ADHD; I'm particularly fond of "Put away one knife", which breaks the nebulous task of "start writing" into something really simple like just... pull out your desk chair.

[eternal-ascensionism]

Listening to Enough, Enough Now and brother man. I need to climb on my soapbox and ramble about that line “Tell me tonight that you’ll be by yourself, cause something bad will happen if you are with someone else” OMINOUS AHH BARS BRO

*TW: STALKING, TOXICITY, SCARY NOAH BE SMART READ AT YOUR OWN RISK*

Stalker!bestie!Noah being too afraid to tell you how he feels but he gets a lil unhinged whenever he learns you’re going on a date with someone else…Noah who comforts you when the guy you met last night ghosts you, or at least that’s what you believe happened. Maybe someone you know had a little chat with him. Privately. In a dark alley behind the very bar you’d met him at. Noah who assures you you’ll find someone, “who knows, maybe we’ve already met them?” take the hint you fuckin-

Noah, who always seems to bump into you when you’re walking your dog or when you’re at the grocery store. Noah, who listens carefully to the conversation you have with your friend who works at the local coffee shop about your interests. Noah, who studies your expression as you pick up the little blue gift box he left addressed to you at your job. Noah, who smiles when your name lights up his phone screen, stifling a laugh when you start gushing about your secret admirer. Noah, who pockets a pair of your panties during one of your regular movie nights. Noah, who silently fucks his fist in the bathroom with that same pair of panties stuffed in his mouth to stifle the moans

One night, when he’s been holed up in the studio and he misses you, he checks your Snapchat story like he usually does. Only this time, he hears what sounds like a guy’s voice in the background. He notices the icy feeling spreading through his chest and limbs. Fails miserably at his attempts to regulate the jealous rage brewing. He can’t take this shit anymore, he needs you to be his. Only his. Nobody else deserves to monopolize your time. Nobody else should get to sit in your bed and make you laugh and hold your hand. He waits until the final recording has wrapped and sneaks off. He’s barely made it outside before he’s clicking on the FaceTime app. It rings twice, then your pretty face fills the screen. “Hey Noah! How was the studio?”

“Who’s with you?”

“What?”

Clearing his throat, he tries to sound less invested. Less anxious. “I asked who you’re with. I saw your Snapchat post, sounded like you were busy. Just wanted to see what I was missing.”

You giggle, and he swears he can hear you roll your eyes through the phone. “I’m home alone. Watching some lame sitcom on Hulu, was actually gonna call and see if you wanted to sleep over?”

He agrees, nerves finally calming. You go back and forth making plans; him giving you movie recommendations, you providing your order for the Chinese takeout Noah would be picking up. When all was said and done, you said your goodbyes. Just as you go to end the call, Noah speaks up one last time.

“Glad you said you’re home alone tonight. Something bad might’ve happened if you were with someone else.” You’re left to decipher the meaning as the line goes dead.

[hopefulromances]

Hi!! I love your writing so much!!

When I saw number 5 on your Drabbles list all I could think of was the team trying to figure out what’s going on with reader and Jamie and coming to the most wild conclusions like they did with Zava and Trent LMAO

AHH! This means so so much to me! Thank you!

I love this prompt so I hope you enjoy!

5. “Idiots. They are all idiots.”

Colin and Isaac peaked around the corner to stare down the hall as (Y/N) walked up the stairs. Surely she was going back and forth between offices, delievering messages and what not for Rebecca.

Since she'd come on the team as Rebecca's personal assistant, everything at Richmond had run smoother. (Y/N) was some kind of assistant extrodinare, memorizing Rebecca's needs in an instant and helping her to focus on the really important things.

She'd also fit right in with the Greyhounds. While her extreme A-Typer personality was intimidating at first but soon they warmed up to her and she softened for them.

But what was really getting the boys in a tizzle recently was her somewhat odd behavior around one certain Greyhound. Jamie Tartt always seemed to be missing right around the time that (Y/N) took her breaks, and during lunch, the both of them would disappear all together.

But the team was not one to back away from a mystery and made it their job to figure out exactly what was going on between the two of them. Right now, Colin and Isaac were on (Y/N) duty.

"What chu lookin' at?"

Jamie's voice from behind them caused Colin to jump, hitting his head on Isaac's chin. The two men cursed and grabbed their respective body parts.

"Fuck! Why'd you sneak up on us like that, bruv?" Isaac groaned, rubbing his chin.

"I didn't do nuthin'!" Jamie defended, walking over to sit in front of his locker. "It was you twos who were being weird."

Colin frowned as he rubbed his forehead, a red mark appearing right in the middle. "We weren't doing anything, were we Isaac?"

"Nope, nothin.'"

Jamie shrugged and whipped out his phone. Isaac looked down at Colin and nudged his head in Jamie's direction.

"So, Jamie!" Colin opened, standing up.

"Colin, I've told ya a million times, you don't need to keep askin me to use my lynx, just take it," Jamie dismissed, messing around with a filter on instagram.

"No, that's not- wait really?"

"Obviously."

Colin nodded, happy with this information. Isaac grunted, reminding Colin of the ask at hand. "Oh! I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch today. Roy told us about this new Kebab place down the road."

"If it's got anything to do with that old fart, I'm not interested," Jamie responded, standing up to grab his fanny pack.

"Oh, so you have plans then?" Isaac interjected, his gaze burning into an oblivious Jamie.

"Uh, yah? Eat lunch?" Jamie rolled his eyes. "Get away from you, twats for five minutes."

"Where are you goin then?" Colin boxed Jamie in. Isaac on one side of Jamie, Colin on the other. Jamie frowned at him, before nudging him out of the way.

"None of your fucking business, is it boyo?"

With that, Jamie was off down the hallway, walking past the same stairs the (Y/N) had climbed just a few minutes prior. Isaac and Colin looked at each other for a second before racing off down the hallway. They reached the boot room where seemingly the rest of the team was waiting.

When they entered the room, they were bombarded with questions flying at them.

"What did you learn?"

"Are they getting lunch together?"

"What lynx does Jamie have now?"

Isaac let out a bark to silence the crowd.

"Jamie didn't take the Kebab bait!" Isaac grunted, crossing his arms. "But he also wouldn't tell us where he was going."

"AH! So (Y/N)/Jamie lives," Dani exclaimed, looking around in exctiement.

He was met with shouts of disapproval and outrage.

"There is NO way that (Y/N) and Jamie are together," Bumbercatch argued. "(Y/N) is just too serious for him."

"Exactly, that's why it's clear they are starting a side hustle!" Jan Maas stated, raising his hand. "We should look to support them in their endeavors."

Again, there was cries of outrage as the boys all shouted their theories of what was going on with the two.

"Jamie is looking for a surrogate!"

"(Y/N) is his long lost sister!"

"She was actually hired to be Jamie's nanny to make sure he doesn't get into anymore trouble."

The theories went on, each more outrageous than the last. Unbeknownst to them, unoticed in the corner was Will. He'd been in there the whole time. He pulled out his phone and sent a message.

...

(Y/N)'s phone lit up in the cupholder between her and Jamie. Jamie was driving down the road, his sunglasses blocking his eyes. He had a hand on the wheel and the other was rubbing up and down her thigh gently.

(Y/N) reached over and grabbed her phone, letting out a giggle as she read his message.

"'the boys are properly distracted, have a good lunch' smiley face'" She read out, leaning over to show Jamie the photo of the boys arguing.

Jamie chuckled, glancing down at the phone. "Idiots, they're all idiots."

(Y/N) planted a kiss on Jamie's cheek before leaning back in her seat. "Yeah, but so are you."

Jamie smiled, content at the though of being (Y/N)'s idiot.

Hope you enjoyed!

[misc-obeyme]

Here's a kinda angsty thought I have with dateables!

Okay, the brothers and side characters (not Luke ofc) love MC, yeah? And MC makes it very clear the brothers are their first choice whenever they have to choose between them and the side characters.

Imagine Diavolo, Barbatos and Solomon hell maybe even Thirteen when they realize no matter what they do, the brothers will always be on top for MC. Sure, MC is great with them but they only truly relax and show their real self with the brothers and it shows.

What do you think? [BTW have a great night/day!]

MY FRIEND I AM SO SORRY.

Apparently this ask was sent way back in October?!?! It only just showed up today!!! Tumblr, whyyy??

I got your other ask today, too and I will answer that one as well! But I think this must have been the mystery message my ask box kept telling me was there, but I could never see it?! It was like you have 1 message, but then it'd also be like your ask box is empty and I was like which is it?!

I'm so sorry if you thought I just ignored your ask 😭

That is absolutely not my style at all, so a note to everyone who has ever sent me an ask: if I don't respond in maybe a week, please send it again!! I usually answer asks within a couple days, but I'm saying a week just in case I have some extenuating circumstances lol.

ANYWAY lemme actually answer your ask from two months ago! 😭

I think about the potential of this scenario when I wanna get angsty lol.

So here is what I think it would be like for the side characters realizing that MC will always choose the brothers over them:

Diavolo: Ahh, our prince would be so gentlemanly about it. Especially if MC ended up with Lucifer specifically. But either way, I think he would prioritize MC's happiness over his own. He would see MC's choice as a good one. He would see the way the brothers love MC. He would get sad about it sometimes and I think he'd have some sleepless nights where he wishes MC was beside him. But in the end, he would focus on his job and let MC go. Seeing them be comfortable and happy with the brothers would bring him a sort of bittersweet happiness, too.

Barbatos: I think Barbatos would withdraw. I think he would become quieter and even more formal around MC than he already was. He respects MC's choice. I also feel like he would deliberately restrain himself in order to keep the peace. He cares too much about Diavolo, the brothers, & the state of the Devildom to really fight for MC's affections.

Simeon: Quiet suffering, but willing to cry about it when he needs to. Like I see him being honest with himself about how much it hurts, but never letting anyone else know. He would watch MC with a soft fondness, but from afar. Willing to let them be with the brothers if that's what makes them happiest.

Solomon: To be expected. Solomon already believes this. He already thinks MC is going to choose the brothers over him every time. He's prepared for that inevitability. It still breaks his heart to watch them slip away from him. Deep down, it probably devastates him. But he's determined to be there for them in any way he can, no matter what that looks like. And he would never let them know how he really feels... unless he got drunk maybe.

Thirteen: I see her being kinda like, Fine! Who needs you anyway!? But she says it with tears in her eyes. She gets abrasive as a response. And at first she might be a little stand offish with MC after she realizes. But I think in the end, her love for MC would soften her again, but it would hurt, too. She would need some time to transition herself to "friends only" status.

Raphael: I see his response as being kind of a mix between Simeon and Barb. Like, he's going to accept MC's choice and wants them to be happy, but he's also going to have to restrain himself from fighting for MC. Mr Spears does not strike me as the kinda guy who would just let someone go if he really loved them. But he does seem to be the kind of guy who cares a lot about doing the right thing. And I think he would consider letting MC go to be the right thing.

Mephisto: I could see him trying to push MC away himself, in an effort to protect himself from getting hurt. Like oh who would want a human anyway? Only fallen angels, obviously. But that's not what he really thinks, it's just a coping mechanism. And he can't keep it up anyway. He's secretly soft for MC. So I see him just transitioning to hating the brothers. Not going out of his way to make their lives difficult, but not helping them out either. Only being nice to MC. Keeping that pain inside because he can't admit it even to himself.

Nooo I made myself sad lol. I guess that's the point of angst though, huh??

Anyway, I am very fascinated by this topic! Once again, I'm sorry you had to wait so long for the response, I'm still so annoyed at Tumblr lol.

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part eight: "The First Date"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Matt finally have a first date.

Or

Matt has you thinking about his ass. A lot.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 4.7k

a/n: Just now realizing all of you on tumblr will not get to witness the novels in my end notes that a lot of y'all love to tease me about over on AO3...maybe that's for the best! Enjoy the cute fluffy first date between Reader and Matt! And you can find the list of installments that are currently posted on tumblr for this series here! Enjoy because there's literally so many more of these I have yet to transfer over...

You were focused on sautéing the pan of vegetables while simultaneously keeping an eye on the pot of water you were waiting to reach a boil. 

It was Wednesday night, a few days after you’d returned from Foggy and Marci’s wedding. The pair of them were off at some island resort right now for the next two weeks for their honeymoon. After returning home the other night, you hadn’t heard much from Matt; him and Karen had been swamped at the office without Foggy and you had begun to think the date he’d talked about for this weekend wasn’t going to happen at this point. 

You’d also been busy today at The Bulletin and were currently still a bit frazzled from all of the run around. Some last minute political drama had occurred and Ellison had called for an all-hands-on-deck approach, which had meant you’d gotten off work late. Though Katy hadn’t missed her opportunity to grill you again about the weekend, and then she’d grilled you quite in depth about just how great of a kisser Matt really was. 

The pot on the stove decided it had reached a boil at almost the exact same time your phone started to ring on the counter behind you. With a huff you turned and quickly snatched the phone off of the counter, not bothering to check the screen to see who was calling before accepting the call. You assumed it was once again Katy with with more news on the political drama front and another excuse to grill you about Matt. You immediately wedged the phone between your ear and shoulder as you grabbed the box of soba noodles from beside the stove.

“So help me if you ask me about his ass one more time, Katy,” you said, tearing open the box of noodles, "I'm going to steal your yogurt. And I know how protective you are over your yogurt."

“Who’s ass?” Matt’s curious voice came through the line. “Mine? Or do I need to be concerned about competition?”

You nearly yelped when you heard his voice, dropping the noodles a bit too abruptly into the boiling water so that some of the water splashed onto your arm.

“Son of a bitch,” you cursed under your breath, pulling your arm back and rubbing where the water had burned you.

“Sweetheart?” Matt asked over the line.

“Sorry, I–I thought you were Katy,” you muttered, embarrassed. “And I just felt the vengeful wrath of some boiling water.”

“You okay?” he asked in concern.

“Yeah, fine,” you answered, stirring the pot of noodles.

He cleared his throat, the tone of his voice becoming a mixture of cocky and amused when he spoke again. “So you’re discussing my ass I take it?” he asked.

You paled, turning your back to rest against the counter as you awkwardly bit your thumbnail. “Katy was asking about my weekend at the wedding, and I told her that we…kissed.”

“Ahh,” he responded. “But what does that have to do with my ass?”

You rolled your eyes feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Nothing, she just didn’t believe nothing more happened with us sharing a bed. So she’s been asking me a million questions.”

“About my ass?” he pressed.

“Oh my God,” you breathed out, a hand rubbing at your forehead nervously as you cringed. “You have a really nice ass, Matt, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear me say?” 

“Do I?” he teased in a smug tone. “I wouldn’t know, I can’t see it.”

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” you asked him flatly.

“A little,” he admitted. “But you sound distracted, what’s wrong?”

“You heard the news today, right?” you asked him, chewing your nail again.

“That scandal? With the senator?” he clarified.

“Mhmm, yeah. It’s been a crazy day at the office because of it. I just got home a bit ago,” you told him.

“I’m sorry, is this a bad time to call?” he asked.

“No, no you’re fine,” you assured him. “I’m just a little all over the place." You continued to anxiously gnaw on your nail, brows creasing together as you eyed the outdated tile of your kitchen floor. "What’d you call for? Not that I don't, you know, enjoy you calling,” you quickly added, "I just assumed there was a reason since I know you've been swamped, too."

“I wanted to see if you were still interested in going out this weekend,” he told you. “Saturday night? For dinner?”

“Oh,” you said, pleasantly surprised and thrilled that the date was indeed still happening. You opened your mouth to answer, but the sound of water loudly boiling over and the flames of the burner hissing under the pot drew your attention back to the noodles you’d been cooking. “Shit, no,” you groaned, racing over to the stove and lowering the flame before grabbing a spoon.

“No?” Matt asked hesitantly.

“What?” you asked distractedly, stirring the noodles.

"No you don't want to go out Saturday night with me?" he questioned carefully.

You shook your head quickly, setting the spoon back down. "No, no I meant yes," you told him.

"I am thoroughly confused now," he said with a faint chuckle.

You inhaled deep before blowing out the breath, trying to focus your mind on the conversation. "Yes, Matt, I would really like to go out with you Saturday night. Sorry, I got distracted with a pot of noodles."

"More or less distracted than you are by my ass?" he teased.

" Matt ," you nearly hissed, embarrassed. 

He laughed lightly over the line and you couldn't fight the smile on your face at the sound despite your embarrassment. 

"Sorry, I couldn't resist," he said, his laughter dying down. "How does that Thai restaurant by my place sound? I know you like it."

You smiled, nerves flooding your stomach at the thought of a date with him this weekend. "It sounds great," you answered softly. 

"I can meet you at your place," he offered. "At seven? We can walk there and I can walk you home?"

"That honestly sounds perfect," you replied. 

"Good, because I'm looking forward to it," he admitted, a smile in his voice.

"I am too, Matt. I really– motherfucker ," you cursed under your breath when the pot began to boil over again. "These damn noodles tonight!"

Matt barked out a laugh over the phone as you stirred the pot again, momentarily lowering the flame. 

"I'm going to stop distracting you," he said. "I'll see you Saturday at seven?"

"As long as I haven't burned my apartment down with these damn noodles," you answered. "I'll see you Saturday."

You chewed the bite of pad thai, thoughtfully thinking over the question Matt had posed. After a moment you swallowed, finally having an answer.

"Waitress," you said.

Matt snickered, dark brows rising above his glasses. "Wow, you were aiming high," he teased. 

"I was nine!" you shot back. "And the question was the weirdest thing you wanted to be when you grew up. They seemed nice, how was I supposed to know it wasn't a viable career choice?" You gestured your chopsticks at Matt as you asked, "What about you?"

"Dog groomer," he answered. 

"Wow, pretty quick with that one," you joked. "Just because you liked dogs?"

"Yeah," he answered, his chopsticks picking up some noodles from his plate. "Before the heightened senses, too. Probably would be torture to endure that now." He pulled a face. "Wet dog is not a pleasant smell, I can assure you."

You lightly tapped your chopsticks to your lips, eyes narrowed as you tried to think of another ridiculous question for the strange game you'd found yourselves in. "If you could have a lifetime supply of anything, what would it be?" you finally asked.

His head tilted to the side as he chewed, brows furrowing behind the red lenses. You picked up more noodles and tossed them into your mouth.

"Coffee," he answered. "I pretty much live on that now."

"Mmm, don't we all," you mumbled.

"Your turn to answer," he pointed out, shooting you a grin from across the table.

"Coffee was a good answer but…” you trailed off for a moment in thought. “I don't know, the only things I can think of would be terrible unless they were magically healthy," you decided.

"Like what?" he asked curiously.

"Mint ice cream, but a lifetime supply sounds like a terrible dietary decision," you replied.

Matt snorted into his water cup as he took a drink. "Why mint ice cream?" he asked as he set the glass back down. "Mint is like the toothpaste of the dessert world."

Your jaw dropped, your chopsticks full of noodles hovering just before your mouth. " Excuse me ?" you asked in mock offense. "Mint is literally the best combination with chocolate."

Matt chuckled, shaking his head. "I think you mean to say peanut butter is," he corrected. 

You shot him a flat look, lowering the chopsticks. "I said what I said, Matt."

"Alright, alright," he appeased, holding a hand up. "I suppose it means you'll at least taste like toothpaste when I kiss you afterwards."

Your cheeks reddened as your eyes dropped down to your plate, your chopsticks nervously pushing a few noodles around a piece of tofu.

"Kissing me still makes you nervous?" he asked curiously, his own chopsticks lowering as he focused on you across the table, his head tilted to the side.

Your left hand tucked a few loose strands of hair behind your ear, your gaze still on the plate before you. "I mean, sort of. But also, I'm now paranoid about the fact that I'm eating this and you’re probably going to think I have terrible breath afterwards," you admitted. 

Matt snorted a laugh, shaking his head. “No, really, I won’t. If anything you’re just going to taste exactly like the pad thai you’re eating,” he told you. “And lucky for you, I quite enjoy pad thai.” He shot you a coy smirk across the table, one that had the heat rising up from your neck to your cheeks. “I quite enjoy it a lot, actually.”

You swallowed hard, your eyes dropping back down to your plate. “I get a feeling you’re not talking about pad thai here,” you muttered nervously.

“No, I’m not,” he agreed.

Your eyes flew up from under your lashes, gazing at him nervously across the table. He stared at you behind the red lenses of his glasses for a long moment, neither of you eating. You could feel your breath coming in short under his stare. Half of you wanted to climb into his side of the booth and finish what you'd almost started Sunday morning in the hotel room, the other half of you wanted to go hide in the women's restroom for ten minutes trying to calm your racing heart and nerves.

Thankfully Matt cleared his throat, readjusting his glasses on his face and going back to his food. You felt the tension in your shoulders lessen now that his gaze had been diverted, as if he’d done that on purpose. Which, considering he was probably reading your body like a confusing book, he probably did.

“What’s your go-to excuse for getting out of plans?” he asked, scooping up more noodles and continuing the strange game of questions.

You tapped your chopsticks nervously on your plate for a moment, trying to recover from whatever that had just been. “You trying to keep it in mind in case I use it on you?” you asked him with a nervous laugh.

He grinned as he chewed, shrugging a single shoulder. “Maybe,” he answered.

“Depends,” you began to sheepishly admit, “I usually say I have a dentist appointment I forgot about.”

“But that wouldn’t work on a Sunday,” he pointed out.

“Well I guess people don’t think of calling me on Sundays with things I want to get out of,” you joked back.

Matt shot you a playful look across the table as he leaned forward and asked, “Do you want to go skydiving with me this coming Sunday?”

“Hmm,” you said, exaggeratedly tapping your chin with a finger. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got a dentist appointment on Sunday. You know, my dentist works twenty-four seven so I’m definitely not available.”

“Sounds like a busy man,” Matt teased with a suggestive smile.

Your eyes widened and you ducked your head, snorting out a laugh. Quickly you threw up a hand to cover your mouth.

“You don’t need to hide your laugh,” he told you, raising a hand and gesturing towards you. “I notice you often cover your face when you do. I think the little snorts are cute.”

“And just like that I feel like a farm animal,” you half-joked under your breath, face burning up.

He shook his head, his attention returning to his food. “You don’t need to be so self-conscious. I’ve heard that laugh a lot over this past year and I love it every time I do.”

You raised a hand to your burning cheeks, your ears definitely picking up on the way he’d said he loved it and not liked it. Nervously licking your lips, you asked him, “So what’s your usual go-to excuse?”

“Usually just that I lost track of time,” he admitted. “Which is easy to do when you can’t see the time plastered everywhere like everyone else can.”

Your cheeks were still burning as you tried to think of another question, and then your brain came up with something ridiculous and you blurted, “Would you rather fight a single horse-sized duck, or one-hundred duck sized horses?” 

Matt sat up abruptly in the booth, his head momentarily turning to the side as he eyed you. “That is a…very interesting question.”

“In the year that you’ve known me,” you asked him, “would you honestly expect anything else?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, and I’d be disappointed with anything less. I’d go with the horse-sized duck. Even though that’s terrifying to think of a duck that large attacking me.”

Your eyes narrowed as you took a sip of water, swallowing the liquid quickly before you set the glass back down. “You’ve told me you fought ninjas," you pointed out, "but a horse-sized duck is what terrifies you?”

“The one-hundred duck-sized horses attacking me would actually be more terrifying,” he admitted.

“Agreed,” you said. “I’d have much more luck running from a single giant angry duck.”

Matt’s hand reached across the small table, searching for a moment along the surface for the hand you had resting near your plate. Hesitantly you slid it closer to him, allowing him to grab it. His large, warm hand fully covered yours, a strange feeling stirring in your chest at the contact. As you stared at your connected hands, your heart began to beat a bit faster. Slowly your eyes slid up to Matt’s face where he was clearly fighting back a laugh. The sight only further stirred that strange feeling in your chest.

“I’ll protect you from the giant ducks, sweetheart,” he promised you, looking like he was fighting a losing battle with his laughter.

“Much appreciated,” you said with a grin.

Dinner continued on with the two of you finishing your game of questions before discussing how work had been this week. You'd told him more about the scandal that you were still hovering over your phone for news on, and Matt had told you about some of the things he was juggling while Foggy was on his honeymoon. Over this past year you'd already gotten to know most of the normal first date questions about each other's careers, families, and hobbies–which for Matt really just consisted of dressing up as Daredevil and beating criminals. You knew he'd intentionally tried to keep things light because you'd admitted to being nervous when he'd picked you up. Though, you were sure he was already aware of that before you even told him.

You were leading him out of the restaurant with his hand holding the crook of your arm now, a large smile on both of your faces. You’d enjoyed dinner and the jokes back and forth, and judging from how much laughing Matt had been doing, you’d assumed he’d enjoyed dinner, too.

"Hang on, let me get the door," you said, moving towards it once you’d reached the exit.

Matt gently tugged your arm back, shooting you a charming smile that had your stomach flipping as he released his hold on you and stepped forward, pressing his hand into the door and opening it for you.

"Maybe I want to get it for you this time," he pointed out as you stepped through. 

"Thank you," you said softly, stepping outside.

The night was warm as you awkwardly crossed your arms over your chest. Matt released the door and joined you on the sidewalk, holding out one of his hands towards you while the other held tight to his cane.

"I've walked you home or to your office countless times before," Matt said, "and I've always wanted to just hold your hand instead of your arm. Would that be okay?"

Your eyes fell to his awaiting hand. Without even having to think about it, you easily slipped your hand into his, enjoying the way the smile stretched further across Matt’s mouth when you did. He pulled you closer towards him, your shoulders brushing as he began to lead you both back towards your apartment. You were too busy gnawing on your lip, overly aware of each of his fingers interlocked between yours and wondering if you’d get an opportunity to kiss him again before the night ended–even if you were still worrying about having pad thai breath–to think of something to talk about.

“I enjoyed your company this evening,” Matt said, breaking the silence after a few minutes had passed.

“I enjoyed your company, too,” you admitted.

Matt’s hand gently squeezed yours and you smiled, your attention turning on him. His cane was lightly tapping along the sidewalk in front of him and there was a large smile spread across his own face underneath his glasses. He looked happy and that made your heart flutter in your chest. His gaze abruptly turned on you as he walked, the full weight of that bright smile nearly knocking you off your feet. 

“I like you,” Matt admitted. “Quite a lot, actually.”

“I like you, too, Matt,” you whispered.

His hand squeezed yours again and your stomach practically somersaulted in response. Briefly you wondered if he could hear some version of what he was doing to you.

“Enough to get me a second date?” he asked hopefully, his brows rising behind his glasses.

You laughed lightly, your eyes landing on the sidewalk in front of you as you walked. “Yes, definitely enough to get you a second date,” you agreed.

“Too early to ask for a third date?” he asked.

You laughed a little harder, your apartment building unfortunately coming into view as you did. “You might want to see if you still want that after a second date,” you told him.

“I’m already trying to plan a fourth date, actually,” Matt teased you.

Your cheeks flushed yet again this evening. How was it possible this wonderful man liked you so much? And how the hell had it taken you so long to realize it?

“This is me,” you mumbled, coming to a stop in front of your building. 

The two of you paused on the sidewalk, you turning and reluctantly releasing his hand as you faced him. You glanced up at him, your heart racing as you chewed the inside of your cheek. Should you invite him up? Were you even ready for what that actually entailed? Was he? You’d been wanting to sleep with Matt for so long, but now that the possibility of it was glaring you in the face, you were nervous. When was the last time you’d shaved? Was there a way to brush your teeth first so he didn’t just taste pad thai when he kissed you? Could he tell you hadn’t had a chance to do the dishes yet if he came up? Were your non-silk sheets going to be too scratchy for him to want to have sex on? Would he–

“Sweetheart, I can practically feel your body working itself up with a thousand thoughts at once,” he said lightly, his voice cutting through all the noise in your head.

You smiled sheepishly back at him, your arms nervously crossing over your chest again. “How can you possibly tell that?”

“Your heart rate increased the moment you let go of my hand,” he told you, a finger pointing at your chest. “Your blood pressure is elevated as well your body temperature. You’re rigid and you’ve been chewing the side of your mouth for a minute now nonstop. I can smell the adrenaline coming off you in waves.”

“Sorry,” you murmured.

He shook his head, stepping towards you and placing a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t apologize, just take a deep breath. You don’t need to be so nervous,” he assured you.

“Easier said than done,” you muttered.

“What’s got you so worked up?” he asked.

That question had you even more nervous. You couldn’t exactly lie because Matt would know–not that you wanted to lie to him. But telling him you were standing here wondering if you should ask him to come up to your apartment, which you were sure would translate to having sex, had made you wonder if your legs were recently shaved enough or if he’d find them prickly with his extra senses. Or that–

“Sweetheart,” Matt said, an amused smile on his face. “You’re doing it again.”

“Right, yeah, sorry,” you mumbled. Opting for the truth you said, “I was just contemplating inviting you up.”

“Were you?” he asked slowly, still smiling in amusement. “And apparently that has your body going into fight or flight?”

“Apparently,” you muttered under your breath, nervously tucking hair behind your ear.

Matt opened his mouth, about to speak, but the sound of your ringtone swiftly cut him off. You watched his mouth close, his head tilting to the side. You cringed, internally cursing whoever was calling you right now though you assumed it was probably work. You reached into your purse and pulled out your phone. Sure enough it was Katy calling you.

“It’s work,” you said with a sigh. “That scandal has really been a pain in my ass this week.”

“I can wait if you need to answer it,” he told you.

“I probably should with what’s been going on,” you told him reluctantly. “Normally I’d ignore it, though. This just feels rude.”

He waved a dismissive hand, shooting you a smile. “I can wait a few minutes, really,” he assured you.

“I’ll just be a moment,” you said. You stepped a half step back, turning to face the street as Matt stood nearby. “What’s going on, Katy?” you asked into the phone. “The office better be on fire or something right now.”

“No, but this story is,” Katy said over the line. “So the senator’s mistress has finally been named and there’s a prostitution rumor going around that’s about to be corroborated. Ellison needs everyone back in for a quick re-work before the paper hits the printers tonight. I tried my best to cover for you because I know you had that hot date,” she said, and you instantly heard Matt chuckle beside you, no doubt hearing everything she was saying, “but I couldn’t cover for you much longer. You’re needed. Ellison will probably murder you himself if you’re not here soon.”

Your eyes snapped shut, your shoulders slumping. Well that ruined your plans of potentially sleeping with Matt. 

“I’ll be there in fifteen,” you told her.

“Great, I’ll let bossman know,” Katy answered. “And hey, are you still with Hell’s Kitchen’s sexiest attorney-at-law?”

Your cheeks reddened as you heard Matt chuckle beside you again. “Yes, Katy, I need to hang up so I can say goodbye,” you told her impatiently.

“Right, well, can you do me a favor and ask him how much for a baker’s dozen?” she asked.

Your eyes narrowed as you stared at the ground before you. “What?” you asked her. “I’m not following.”

She scoffed on the line and you imagined her rolling her eyes at you. “Come on, that man has a whole ass bakery back there, girl.”

Your eyes closed as you heard Matt bark out a laugh beside you. Katy quickly cursed over the phone before laughing herself.

“Shit, did you accidentally have me on speakerphone?” she asked, still laughing.

“No, but I might as well have,” you muttered under your breath. “I’m going to hang up and see you in fifteen. Can you please refrain from discussing my date’s ass the rest of the evening?”

“Probably not,” she answered instantly. “See you soon. Grab a handful of cake for me on your way over.”

“Fucking hell,” you cursed, hanging up the phone and stuffing it into your purse.

Matt was still laughing as you awkwardly turned towards him, embarrassed even though you technically hadn’t done anything.

“I like her, she’s amusing,” Matt said. “Though I don’t know why she’s so into my ass.”

“Because you have a nice ass,” you mumbled, noticing his smile widen. “But I unfortunately have to get back to the office, as you heard.”

“Well then I guess this is where I say goodnight, unless you’d like me to walk you?” he offered.

You shook your head quickly. “No, really, it’s two blocks and I’ll probably grab a taxi back after. I’ll be fine.”

“Well, can you text me when you get there and back home later?” he asked. “I don’t care what time it is. I’ll worry otherwise.”

“I suppose I don’t need you throwing on your suit and hunting me down,” you joked lightly. “Yeah, I can text you.”

Matt closed the distance between the two of you, a warm smile on his face. “I had a good night and I look forward to doing it again with you,” he said softly.

“Me too,” you admitted.

“Do I need to give you a warning before I kiss you so you don’t run away on me?” he joked. “Or am I at a point where I can just kiss you when I want to?”

“You can just–just kiss me,” you breathed out, your eyes instantly darting to his mouth.

“Good to know,” he whispered.

One of his hands reached out and lightly drew your face towards his. Your eyes fluttered closed just before his mouth was on yours. You could feel your stomach excitedly somersaulting inside of you, your hands hesitantly reaching up and landing on Matt’s dress shirt, steadying yourself against him. His mouth was somehow making you lightheaded with the way he was kissing you so sweetly, his lips moving carefully along yours. 

You felt his other hand at your lower back, drawing you in closer towards him until your hands snaked their way around his neck, your chests lightly pressed together. You were certain he could not only hear your heart hammering away in your chest now, but that he could probably feel it slamming into his own through the front of your shirt. 

Eventually he broke away, resting his forehead to yours. You saw the smile on his face and couldn't resist your own in return. 

"Tonight was perfect," he whispered. "I'll call you soon to find another time to go out?"

Your bottom lip rolled into your teeth as you nodded your head. Matt pulled his forehead from yours, soon replacing it with a warm, lingering kiss from his lips.

"Text me so I know you're safe?" he reminded me.

"I will, Matty," you promised. 

He pulled away, your own arms falling back to your sides as he did. There was a cheeky smile that gradually spread over his face as he gazed down at you behind the dark glasses. 

"What?" you asked him after a moment, brows creasing together. 

"You need a slice of cake before you go?" he teased. 

Your face flamed as your jaw dropped, embarrassed to the point of speechlessness. Matt barked out a laugh as you tried to recover. Your hands flew to your face as you turned a fraction away from him, too embarrassed to even look at him.

"I'll be the one making front page of The Bulletin tomorrow," you said, voice muffled behind your hands. "For killing Katy."

[christopher-bangnaldoskzz]

Soft Dom Bangchan x Female Reader Sub!

Genre: 🌶️🌶️🌶️

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: use of sex toys, orgasms, sexual content included I am going to say this is strictly 18+ MDNI fan fiction.

Summary:A sub needs a dom, a dom wants a sub but what happens when feelings overlap with contracts and love creeps in? Will a contract remain only a contract? Or are emotions like love too hard to keep in check?

A/N: would also like to dedicate this story to @daceydeath , thank you for always putting up with my deluluness, also thank you for putting up with my drama fill life honestly. I wouldn’t be still writing if it wasn’t for you encouraging me. Also thank you so much for writing my summary xx

Y/N POV 

Did he really kiss me and walk out? You thought to yourself.

“Well, isn’t your boy's toy....something?" Noah says, looking at you as if he wants all the details. 

“Drop it, Noah, he’s not my boy toy”, you grown as you start looking at the stock take book. 

“Okay…geee a touchy subject, sorry about it,” he said, walking into the back room to collect some items. 

The day moved so slowly. The store was empty almost all day besides one or two customers that came in. Noah went around 3:30pm, leaving you to operate the shop yourself. 

Looking at your watch, you see it is 4:50 in the afternoon. When the doorbell jingles, you look up, somewhat annoyed.

“Hi, sorry….I’m early” your face softens as you see Chris wave. “I’m gonna take a look,” he said, pointing to the sex toys section, making you blush.

You wanted to tease him a bit, so you asked, "Can I help you with something in particular?” 

He cleared his throat. "I'm looking for a wand vibrator,” he said, clearing his throat. 

“Oh, excellent…is it for your girlfriend?" you say, mucking around. 

“Oh, something like that,” he says, following closely behind you.

“How about this one… the Magic Wand Vibrator?” You smile, lifting it up. 

"Is that the Extra Powerful Multispeed one?" This man knows his toys, and his comment leaves you speechless. 

"Yes, it is", you reply with a grin.

"Perfect, I'll take that," he said, reaching into his pocket to grab his wallet.

“What colour do you like?" You ask, with your back towards him, looking for the boxes. 

“Ahh, what colour do you want?” He just made it clear that this was a toy he would use on you. 

“Personally, you can never go wrong with matte black” you turn your head as he looks up at you. 

“Perfect black it is” he walks you over to the counter. After he checks out, he walks over to the door. "I'll be outside," he smiles as the bells go off one last time. 

As you finished closing up and walked outside, you saw Chris leaning against his car, asking, "Diner?" pulling you into his body by your hips. 

“I thought you wanted me to look at your house," you said cheekily, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“We can get takeout," he grinned, leaning in for a kiss. However, you wanted him to wait for it. Denying a dom of pleasure he wanted was the ultimate brat behaviour.

You pushed your body away, and Chris released what had just happened and sat up straight. “Okay, get in. We are getting takeout” you could tell he was trying to play it cool however, he wasn’t too impressed by your lack of respect.

He walked around to the other side of the car without opening your door, as he had insisted on doing. 

He hopped in, and you opened the door sitting down in the car. 

The car ride was silent. When you pulled up to a Korean takeaway restaurant, Chris hopped out. “Stay there,” he said. It was only a couple of minutes before he hopped back in, passing you the bags of food. 

The smell of kimchi fried rice tickled your nose, making your stomach growl. Chris looks over at you “sorry…..I didn't eat lunch” Chris's hands gripped the steering wheel. 

“We will talk about your eating habits after dinner,” he said, turning into his driveway. You are surprised at how close his house is to your work. 

Once again, Chris doesn’t open your car door or help you carry food into his house. Now you are starting to think that this is an indirect punishment from him. Why would he want to punish you? 

“Just place them on the counter,” he said, grabbing plates and spoons. “Help yourself,” he said, opening the containers. As a master, controlling your partner's eating and drinking habits was a big responsibility. You placed a little bit of food on your plate to test him. Yet, he didn’t even bat an eyelid, so you decided you would try your hardest to annoy him, considering he chose to have an attitude with you. “Ha, I play this game better,” you thought. 

You take your food over to the table where Chris is sitting. You eat the very small amount of food you have on your plate. "Is that all you are having?" he says before tucking into his own food. You nod your head, and he shakes his head at you. “I’m not that hungry," you said cheekily. 

“Is that why your stomach was growling in the car?" He asked, knowing you were being a brat. 

“Give me your plate,” he says, reaching out. 

You reluctantly hand him the plate as he huffs, walking over and placing more rice and meat in your dish. “I don’t know what your other masters were like, but I like my girls to eat and drink well” he is already calling himself your master. He must be eager for you to sign the contract. 

He places the food in front of you and sits back down. “Y/N, don’t tell me I have to come over there and force-feed you,” he says, biting into his food. 

"No, thank you, Chris”, you smiled. You ate the food Chris gave you. Once you were finished, Chris came and took your plate. 

"Now....follow me,” he said, grabbing the bag on the table with the wand he just bought in it. 

“You wanted to see what I’m into before signing the contract, right?” He said, opening a black door with a set of keys in his pocket. 

Once he opened the door, you smelled rosewater incense. Sticking your head in, you see a room with purple led lights and black accessories from whips to floggers, and even the bed sheets are black. 

“Needless to say…this wand will fit in just nicely”, he smirks. You follow him inside and start to have a look around while Chris unboxes the vibrator. 

You looked over and thought of a rather naughty plan. Knowing Chris wouldn’t touch you due to not signing his contract yet, you thought it might be fun to see just how far you could push him. Taking the flogger off the wall, you sneakily walk over to Chris, who is distracted by the wand and the how it works instructions. You reach back, and with a swift move of your arm, you flog him on his ass. 

Chris stops what he is doing immediately and grips the table. You giggle as you prepare to do it again. Chris says, “Are you sure you want to go down this route…because if you flog me again, I can assure you contract aside, I will punish you.” 

He turns around and leans up against the bench he is working on. “I have been rather patient with you today….your constant disrespectful behaviour towards me is getting on my last nerve,” he says, grinding his teeth. You walk up to where he stands and take the wand. 

“Well then….why don’t you come over here and teach me a lesson?" you say, licking the wand's tip. 

“You know I can’t touch you without that contract signed,” he says.

“You’re not touching me. You’re touching the wand,” I say, waving it in his face, showing him that there is always a way around the rules.

"Hmm, interesting," he said, raising his eyebrows.

“Come on, Channie”, you wanted to make things interesting. Could he handle you? It was uncommon for subs and doms to engage in any sexual acts before a contract was signed. You run your hands up his chest, “stop”, he says, but Chris does nothing to stop your hands from roaming his body. 

You start kissing his jawline. “You can’t touch me...but I can touch you.” 

“Y/N….I said stop,” again doing nothing to actually physically stop you. 

"Why don't you make me?" playing with his beltbuckle?. 

“What has gotten into you….where is my sweet girl?" he gulps, his head tilting back as he looks at the ceiling. 

Chan growls before saying in a stern voice “Clothes off….NOW” sending a shiver down your spine.

“Yes, sir,” you say, pulling away from his body. 

You start by lifting your shirt over your head, revealing the gorgeous lace bra you wore this morning. 

CHAN POV

She slowly pulls her shirt up and over her head. My heart is pounding in my chest, and my palms are sweaty. Why am I so nervous? 

Once she starts undoing her pants, I feel my cock twitch in my jeans. It’s been a long time since I’ve had regular sex with a girl. I am so unprepared. 

“Okay, that’s enough…go lay down on the bed,” I say. I’m afraid if she takes any more clothes off, I won't be able to control myself. I am trying to play it cool, but this girl is making it so hard for me right now. 

She crawled up the bed, and with her back against the headboard, she spread her legs open “what should I do now, sir” she was looking at me for guidance, but I was barely holding it together myself. 

“I want you to start playing with yourself,” I said, licking my lips. This will give me time to think. What should I do? If I fuck her and she doesn’t sign the contract, I'm fucked. 

"Mmm", her moans snapped me out of my daydream. She pulled her underwear to the side and used the wand to stimulate her clit. 

“Sir…..am I doing okay?" she moans, fuck why does she have to call me sir?. 

“That’s it, baby," I say, walking over and crawling up her body.

Y/N POV

Chris grabs the wand out of your hands, and you start playing with your nipples. Chris is breathing heavily as he moves the wand in a circular direction. 

“I want you to fuck me”, you whine into his ear.

“Once you sign that contract, he grins. I need you to start fingering yourself.” You spread your legs wider and insert two fingers. Chris continues to stimulate your clit with the wand.

“If you make me cum consider that contract signed”, you smirked. You leaned up and kissed his perfect plump lips. 

Chris applied just the right amount of pressure, causing you to bite his lip. He grunts into your mouth as you feel the pleasure boiling in your stomach. “Sir, please…I’m about to,” you say, starting to hit your g spot. 

“Cum for me”, he mumbles, out of breath. With his permission, you feel your body heat up as you finish arching your body into his. Chris places kisses down your neck and helps you ride out your orgasm. 

“Shit, Chris….that was so good,” you say, pulling him back down for another kiss. He throws the vibrator to the side as he presses his body on top of you. 

“I’ll leave so you can get dressed,” he said getting up. You tried to pull him back down however, he was too quick. He didn’t owe you any aftercare; however, you would have really liked some after the experience you just had. 

Chan POV

“Oh god” I can feel myself panicking. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. 

“Fuck” I turn on the water tape and splash my face. As I start to calm down, I start to buckle up my belt that Y/N tried desperately to pull off. 

“What is…oh fuck…no no no no no,” I say realising I had cum in my jeans. “Shit, shit, shit, shit,” I say combing my fingers through my hair. 

“I’m going to have to change,” I say, trying to find some sweatpants and a top to wear. 

As I go through my drawers, I find a baggie T-shirt. “I wonder if she needs new clothes," I mumble under my breath. I put the shirt aside as I continue to fumble through my drawers. 

“Yes, perfect,” I say, smiling as I find what I am looking for and quickly change. 

I walked out into the living room with the black baggie shirt in my hand. Her smile lit up the room as I walked over to her, placing a kiss on her forehead “here, you look uncomfortable…put this on,” she grabbed my cheeks and kissed me softly “there’s my sweet girl,” I said, pulling back. 

"Go, put this on… we will talk when you come back,” I said, cupping her face. 

She walked out of the bathroom, the shirt just sitting midway down her thighs. "Where is the contract?" she asked. I pointed to the table, and she grabbed it with the pen. Coming over to the couch, she sat right on my lap. “Okay, this is happening…play it cool,” I thought. She started to tick through the contract. 

“So, do I get my own room?” She said, chewing on the pen. 

I was really hoping she would want to stay in my room. In the past, most of my girls liked to sleep in the master suite. 

“Uhhh yeah….I have a spare bedroom and stuff for you” I smiled, and she continued to read “, I swear she’s doing this on purpose” I couldn’t believe she had all this room, yet she chose my lap. 

“Also, what are the rules of the playroom?" she asked, adjusting herself in my lap. My body stiffened “there is no going into the playroom when I’m away…if I find you in there, you will be punished” I was struggling to speak at this point; I was trying to concentrate on not getting a boner. 

I could feel my hand start to draw circles on her thigh. "Fuck, her skin is so smooth.” 

“Are there any other kinks I should know about?” She looked directly into my eyes. 

“Uhhhh… I, um, like to watch.” 

“Watch what?” She is asking for clarification.

“Everything….getting dressed…having sex… masturbation.” My cheeks went red at the thought of her asking these questions. 

Her eyes shifted back to the paper as she asked, "anything else?" turning her head back to the paper.

“Orgasm control” it’s like word vomit. I’m just spilling everything to her. 

“Okay….I’m happy with this…I’ll sign it,” she said, flipping to the back and writing her name. 

I, of course, I signthe contract well in advance, a bit eager, I know. However, when I saw her sign her name on the dotted line, my heart started to Pune in my chest. 

“Okay…so could you take me home? I have work tomorrow” she smiled as I squeezed her thigh. This was the moment I’d been waiting for. 

Y/N POV

He squeezes your thigh “okay….you sure you don’t want to stay the night?” This question makes your heart skip a beat, but for this to work, you must stay firm in your boundaries. 

“No…I’ll be back on the weekend, though,” you lean in and give him a desperately needed kiss, his hand wasting no time sliding up my thigh as his lips part before he presses his forehead to yours.

“Okay….but I’m picking you up tomorrow,” he said, staring at your lips. This felt different already. In the past, your doms were strict. You wouldn’t be allowed to sit on their laps. However, Chris was drawing circles on your inner thigh and was so gentle after only knowing you for 3 days. 

“No, you have to work,” you said, caressing his cheek. He couldn’t help himself. His lips connected back with yours. His fingers are just inches away from your dripping underwear. 

“Okay….but Friday night, I’m coming to pick you up” he pulled back, and you proceeded to get up off his lap before things got any more heated. 

“Okay, Friday it is” that did not stop Chris; however, he stood up and cupped your cheeks and leaned in for a kiss. 

“Thank you for picking me,” he said before he pressed his lips to yoursAs he placed his hands on your hips and squeezed, his hands were so gentle. Pulling you in and deepening the kiss, you are starting to realise what grace was talking about. He may actually be the perfect dom. 

A/N : Thank you for ready chapter two of Master, as always all likes comments and reblogs are muchly appreciated.

Master Taglist : @bellamuerte1987 @nightrayseishina @shellyyy177 @9900z @armystay89 @dreamstarsandskz @raven-skz95 @fosfopirite @neyangi @princesspanda16 @krishastumblernow @agnes-king @bangtanmix73 @djeniryuu @calicanbeevil @khemrose @fawnpeaks @missrobyn81 @jisungiexx

[front-facing-pokemon]

Yes, Honedge!

Something i'd like to point out about its face:

It doesn't have a goofy face, the holes in the scabbard just make it look that way. In reality, it just has a single eye.

With that in mind, could you please do a version without the scabbard?

iiii figured this was common knowledge enough to not warrant an additional form, but alright:

some of the guard disappeared but it's okay. i never even saw that part of the scabbard as a face—the blue eye is very obviously an eye. i don't know if anyone actually thought that was its face. however, i do find it interesting that even after removing the scabbard textures, it still has textures for that "face" remaining:

which implies it's a face more than anything i've seen of the matter before this point

anyway there's so many asks in the box right now so let's just go through all of them:

in order from oldest to newest, here we go:

this is true. most of the models are shiny, unless they have a "colladamax" variant

ahh it's fine. i considered it might have been a request but i also doubted it considering pangoro was literally next so i assumed you were just excited. me complaining about requests was unrelated—another ask i got around the same time

well then maybe it's not a bad thing. you certainly phrased it like one, it seems, but that might just be unfortunate connotations with the way you said it? glad we could clear up the confusion i guess

we do need more snakes, but i also like the bipedal pokémon, as a furry. back when everyone was begging sprigatito not to stand up, i saw through their thinly-veiled furry hate and was begging sprigatito to go against the grain and stand up anyway. and then they did and now meowscarada is one of my favorite pokémon. get fucked, normies (i am sorry for saying this)

↑ i didn't know this until i looked it up! this is interesting. stuff like the male version learning misty terrain but the female version learning more type coverage. this is very strange but i like it. only girls can use magical leaf and charge beam sorry boys

thank you! i can explain it. it is because pokémon are getting very close and staring at you as for the inspiration for this blog, it was mostly snivy. i remember one day thinking that snivy's big nose would make it look very silly from the front, and being like "damn. someone should compile a list of what every pokémon looks like from the front. damn. that would make a good tumblr blog bc some of those would be really funny. damn. i should do that" and then i did. but that was back in 2020—pretty soon after i ended up starting college which didn't allot me a lot of time for updating this blog, and although i kept swearing i'd go back, somewhat soon after that i went through a breakup and just wanted to take a while for myself. a bit after that, tumblr user sewatari reblogged one of the posts on this blog again (the weedle post, i believe?) and singlehandedly revived this blog by reminding me that they still cared about it. and that's fucking awesome?? tbh?? so thank them for this blog's continued existence. if you scroll waaaayyyy back far enough in the archive, you'll probably see that miniature saga. the images back from the first gen and onwards were a little bit icky as i got grips on how to actually go about this blog and manipulate the models in the right way to get them to work, which is why i can never really recommend folks scroll all the way back in the blog, but it's a look back into my own personal history, i suppose

apologies for breaking the magic, although i don't think anyone keeps up with the "i am a pokémon taking real live pictures of other pokémon with the camera right in their face" lore because no one pays attention to the backgrounds of the images (which used to change much more than they do now, but that's just because no one ever noticed or pointed them out. the background is not the focus of the image—it's the pokémon itself; thus, why look at the background? staging the pokémon in a setting used to be important to me, but now i don't worry about it and cycle between the same few backgrounds) or the asks, really. it's the commentary in the tags everyone comes here for, of course

she's a fully-grown woman with a house

then you'll love the top of this post

they probably wouldn't think it looks like anything because they aren't familiar with what honedge looks like so they would just picture nothing in their head. or they would just make up what they Think honedge might look like based on its name, or something, and then imagine that front-facing

i don't know which one of these is the real one. but we have some discrepancy here. also apparently this is a wider-spread belief than i thought

OKAY. i think that's all of them. if you read all the way here to the end, that's. powerful. for those of you who stuck around this long, i'm live right now with a test stream having some breakfast and playing pokémon. come join in, if you're bored this morning!

edit: it's over but i'll probably do it again some time, more likely at a more reasonable hour next time. considering the idea of doing a fully voiced pmd series—perhaps that'll be the next stream. or i'll leave another test one for it. who knows!

[knockyasocksoff2022]

☾🐈‍⬛Where Black & White Make Red🥀☽

☾The Deal☽

☾1,316 Words☽

"Did no one ever tell you, Jinko, that on certain moonlit nights in this city, black, white, and red become one and the same?"

☽☾

In the chaos the Armed Detectives Agency has almost forgotten the deal they made with Mori . . . almost. And just before they do, mori comes to collect his debt.

Who will be chosen to lead the rest of their life as a mafioso?

Everyone knew it was coming, looming like distant rain clouds on a sunny day. But, for now, at least, they'd put it all out of their minds.

Today, however, on a miserably stormy day, the president has an announcement.

"Ahem, may I have everyone's attention?"

Affirmations echo around the office. The detectives think it's sweet how despite having their utmost respect the President still asks kindly for their attention.

"I want you all to listen very carefully. You can most likely sense from my tone that the news I bear is not good. At noon today, Mori-dono will be paying us a visit to inform us of which one of you he's selected for a position in the mafia."

Each member reacts differently, but the underlying emotion is all the same: shock.

Everyone thinks some version of the same thought: "I thought we'd have a little more time!"

Kunikida steels himself, stepping a bit in front of Atsushi. Yosano pulls Ranpo closer. Kenji finds Kyouka's hand and grips it tightly. The Tanizaki's cower in the corner. Dazai stares off into space, eyes fixed on Yokohama's five tallest buildings visible from the window.

"Nobody's taking my Junichi away!" Naomi declares, crushing her brother in a suffocating hug.

"Ahh, Naomi . . . l-let me go . . . please!" Junichiroiu whimpers.

The president's face turns hard, determination in every wrinkle, like a lone tugboat readying to face a Typhoon. The old wooden boat that could, the years only having made its planks sturdier, ready to take the waves without so much as a grimace, an immovable object preparing to meet an unstoppable force. 

"Mori-dono has given me no indication of who he's going to pick. It may very well be Junichirou or any of us besides Yosano-san, so please prepare yourselves. Say anything you feel you need to. Once you've been selected, you will immediately pack up your things and head with him to the mafia headquarters. You are to waste no time with your departure." 

The President's face turns sad. Well, not exactly sad, it's more than that, deeper, mournful, longing. "Once picked by Mori-dono you will be an official member of the mafia." He says this as if he cannot bring himself to say 'You will cease to be a member of this agency.' "and as per the rules of this agency, we cannot have mafia members on the premises unless for a prearranged meeting of absolute necessity. So with that in mind, I suggest that all of you start clearing out your desks of any personal items you would wish to bring with you. There is no need to prolong the process. Haruno-san will hand out boxes."

Haruno obeys, passing out cardboard boxes, and with heavy hearts, every agency member save for Yosano gathers their trinkets and places them inside. Only Dazai, who has nothing but his precious suicide manual which he always carries on his person, stands at the window, still looking out at what could be any of their future workplaces.

— 30 Minutes Later —

None of the detectives have gotten much done. Most of them have either mumbled quietly to their deskmates or looked thoughtfully at their effects. 

With his small personal shrine, Kenji prays for Mori not to pick Kyouka or Atsushi. He isn't naive. He knows someone must go, but not someone who only recently found a home in the agency. He prays for whoever does get chosen to have an okay time.

Kunikida writes his thoughts silently down in his notebook.

Yosano lets Ranpo sit in her lap, twiddling a ramune marble, whilst she sorts the infirmary supplies. She feels almost sick in her safety with the boy who showed her the light on her lap. 

'As much as I never want to be in the clutches of that . . . man (if I can even call him human) . . . if he picked Ranpo . . . I . . . I might go then, just to ensure that Ranpo can always stay in the light.'

Kyouka polishes her katana and dagger.

The Tanizaki siblings are locked in an embrace.

Atsushi tries his best to ignore the growing panic, aimlessly twirling the rows and columns of a Rubik's cube.

And Dazai just stares.

-

Not a second late, Mori arrives, Elise his only company. There are no guards and the single sleek black sedan cuts through the foggy morning like a wraith, a clear sign of who has the advantage and it sends shivers down the spines of the detectives.

"Well, we ought to give our guests a proper welcome," Kenji says, trying to cheer his coworkers, but sounding more desolate than anyone has ever heard him. 

The president sighs, "We may as well, but I will be the one to do it." He walks silently out of the office and down the stairs to the front door, having agreed only because it felt wrong to let Mori just let himself inside. 

"Fukuzawa-dono."

"Mori-dono."

The two men bow to each other, nodding affirmatively but exchanging no more words as the president leads the mafia boss into the quaint office.

-

Mori seems to be a black hole when inside the walls of the brightly coloured agency building, his boots clicking across the floor with finality, the sound bouncing off the walls and bathing the silent office in mafia black. After a moment of his steps filling the space, the man comes to a stop at the head of the room, back to the President's office.

The detectives hold their breath.

Mori smiles. If they didn't know him, the expression would appear gentle, one of serenity.

Kenji holds Kyouka's hand, steadying her as she shakes at the sight of her former superior. She knows she shouldn't be afraid anymore, and yet here he is, once again holding power over her. She can't help but tremble. This time she has more than herself to think of. Yet she still can't help but pray as hard as she can that it's not her. It makes her sick to her stomach that she wishes this after someone else.

'I should volunteer, and sacrifice myself so that the agency can continue on with its most essential member, it's the least I can do after what I've done. This is what the relatives of the 35 people I killed would want . . . B-but I-I . . . I-I d-don't want to go back to that place and take more lives. I don't want to kill EVER AGAIN!!!'

Kunikida clutches his notebook so hard his knuckles turn white as if the words inside will bring a solution, but for once his pen remains intact.

Yosano glares as hard at the mafia's leader as she can, willing laser beams to shoot from her eyes and explode him, hands itching for her cleaver to hack away at his evil form.

Ranpo is silent, grimacing. He knows who's going to be picked, of course he does. Yet, for once he doesn't shout out the answer in fear that if he does it may suddenly change. He knows that the person picked will be able to survive. If Mori were to choose another, they may lose them for good.

Junichirou stands, ready to fight, in front of his sister who curls around him with an expression of mock fear. 

"Protect me, Junichi-sama," she whispers, sounding almost aroused at her brother's sudden possessiveness. "It's alright, I won't let them separate us. Wherever I go, you go. Don't worry. You can do it."

Atsushi fights the urge to hide behind Kunikida, instead standing in front of Kyouka and Kenji.

Dazai just stares and stares and stares, brown eyes appearing to have suddenly lost all colour as they stare through Mori's very soul.

Mori's smile grows, and twists until the pressure in the room is nearly unbearable, like the deepest depths of the sea. The water swells up around you and before you know it, you can't breathe.

"Thank you for allowing me to visit today, armed detective agency. The person I have selected to join the Port Mafia is . . . "

[asterjennifer]

Gifted Crystal

Stolas meets Blitz at the office to give him the Asmodean Crystal.

Pt. 2 (Pt.1)

Once he took a deep breath of the rather stagnant air inside the building, he placed his hand against the entrance.

The Prince watched the contrast of his black hand against the grey door of the IMP company. Somehow he never noticed just how big it was in comparison to the surroundings of IMP City. And although he's so much taller, he felt oh-so small today....

Red eyes roaming over the logo Blitzo must've drawn himself, he couldn't help but give a tiny smile. The thought of him sitting at the desk with pen in his hand, trying to find the perfect logo for his business, was a warming imagination. He knew that Blitzo liked to draw sometimes, he'd seen some of his works as pictures on his phone when gazing over. He wasn't particularly talented, but the drawings had almost as much beauty as the Imp himself.

After he shook his head free from the dreams circling — which, honestly, just wanted to delay the moment, he instead took the rest courage and pushed the door open.

Inside, the both Imps working for him seemed to train their aiming skills. There's also his adopted daughter, Stolas needed a brief second to remember her name. Loona was it. She held up a printed picture of a couple disguised men. It looked like they just robbed a bank of some sort by the masks on their faces. Everything was red in these walls today.

Soon eyes darted over at him — immediately making his entire body uncomfortable in the formal clothes. Especially the cape turned unbearable within seconds. Unsure steps brought him into the room, meeting the eyes of the female Imp.

“Is Blitz in his office?” He asked, silently clearing his throat.

The woman exchanged a quick look with her partner before nodding, pointing her finger towards the end of the room at the door. “Yeah, he's in his office.”

He thanked her and passed them with even quieter steps. Now the whole place felt as if the air was thicker than fire. But Stolas forced himself to ignore everything other than his mission, the one thing he's been repeating over and over inside his head since last night.

Due to Blitz being naturally unpredictable, Stolas had a difficult time figuring out which scenario or reaction he should prepare for. Would he grab the Crystal and shove him right out of the door? Would he first try denying the gift in fears it's somehow a scheme on his part? What if he thought it's just to get rid of him forever? Then again, that seemed like something only the Prince worried about.

He knocked politely, then he heard the voice that managed to make his heart beat out of his chest. “What you want??”

“I swear, Moxxie, if you fucked up and ruined my new chairs I will f—” Blitz sat on his desk.

Yet the strong voice died inside his throat when looking up into the face he's been avoiding like the plague. Stolas scanned nothing much in his face other than brief shock, surprise and then slight discomfort in the way the corner of his mouth pulled up. That's a common expression of him, or maybe it's just the common face he wore when he's around him. The thought caused Stolas to squeeze the box tighter between his hands.

These yellow eyes he adored searched the room instinctively, perhaps to find an escape of some sort? An excuse to tell the Prince he's busy once again? He preferred that argument of having no time available. It had increased over the months as well, that he's so busy he couldn't text much, leave alone meet up for one reason or another. Stolas did his best swallowing the lump that blocked his throat. Doing his best keeping his own face straight.

“Hello Blitz,” He said formally. “I hope I don't disturb you as much, but there's something...”

“Ahh, Stolas, you— uh, you have a real bad timing coming in this early. I need the book around evening a last time before holiday, also why you show up in person-”

Blitz basically jumped off his chair, already rambling with that uncertainty underneath the usual confident tone. Stolas' eyes narrowed because of it — it only happened when he's talking to him, he hasn't heard him talk that way to his employees or daughter before. Another indicator of discomfort that he had been ignoring for his own selfish reasons? Surely that's the case. Just how much did he push Blitz into a corner without ever coming to realize? So embarrassing. So shameful.

Stolas lifted his hand, waving it fast and awkwardly. “No, no it's none of that... Well, it's also about the book. But primarily it's...”

Say it, he thought in a hectic manner. Feeling the pulse start to pump through his veins. It's worse inside his chest. He's been having stings for a good while now, but this one was uncommon. The fact he's seeing Blitz's concerned face, showing a bit of the enormous amount of worry over what he'd might planned doing to him, he felt like some kind of monster. Was it justified?

Either way, he reached up to pull his hat closer to his face. Holding out the box. “Here, this will be of advantage for your business.”

Blitz's eyebrows frowned together. Not trusting this in the slightest, he slowly but surely moved backwards. Suddenly a horrible premonition filled his bones with a cold shudder.

“I swear if this is is a sex toy I'll beat your feathered ass.”

“It's none of that, I promise! It's— This is an Asmodean Crystal.” He quickly declined the bad idea Blitz had.

A thick silence filled the air, none of the two moved for a good moment. But Blitz fell back against the desk, pressing a hand over his eyes when laughing out loud.

“Hah! You got me,” He casually pointed his finger at the Prince. “I almost believed your bullshit just now. Just tell me what you want already instead of fussing around my workplace.”

Unsure how to convince him otherwise, Stolas opened the box himself and pulled out the Crystal to hold it up. Blitz's face dropped out of the blue into something that he couldn't quite identify, he had such a rigid face. Again, he said it's for him to use. That it's for his business.

On the other side, Blitz couldn't tell if his mind exploded with everything at once or nothing at all, leaving it completely empty seeing that Crystal being held inside the hand of the Prince. Who, now a little more nervous, made the box fly with magic in order to pull out the ID card holding Blitz's name.

“You can use it from hell,” He spoke surprisingly calm. “Like the book, it allows you access in both directions when being in a different world. However, it also can assist you with a human disguise. But only you since it's your Crystal. I've had no room asking for two more. But I'm certain your employees will be fine dressing up.”

While he explained, he let the item and card fly over to Blitz. Simultaneously placing the box onto the office table. Stolas couldn't ignore the deep heartburn after finally letting go the control he owned over the person he truly came to love. That pain felt undescribable, no feeling came close to the one scratching from his head to toe. His shoulders tensed up as he looked into the corner. Somehow he knew if he kept seeing Blitz's eyes, he might start tearing up.

“Therefore you will not be in need of my book anymore.” He pressed the tips of his fingers against his chest. “Our arrangement is officially over now. I'd like the book back, of course.”

His hands formed into fists unconsciously. Blitz's brows frowned so deep it must've been painful. On the other side of the room, he couldn't start to even comprehend what just happened. But there's a familiar tightness raising into his throat, burning like he's about to throw up acid on the floor. Was this…?

A flash of his sister appeared in front of his eyes. “I never wanna see you! Ever!” She screamed at him. “Next time you wanna find me Blitzo, don't!”

“A selfish Imp in the sheets and just as bad in the streets,” Veronica echoed with enough venom to poison his brain. “A selfish heartbreaking freak..!”

“You're going to die alone, Blitzo.”

Hadn't he just repaired a fraction of his damage with Fizz? He's been communicating with him and although the timing could've been a better one, it helped so much letting go of past misunderstandings and undeserved hatred. Hadn't he just made up and felt a hint of relief, dear saying it, happiness within his soul? What backlash hit his chest just now that he worried for a moment he'd black out.

The Crystal inside his hand shook and even if he would've liked to make it stop, he wasn't sure where that tremor even came from. However, there's a push in the back of his head that made him roll his eyes depsite the lack of control over his body.

“You could've given that the whole time, could you??” He said, going louder with each word.

Stolas' eyes widened. “I- I needed to ask permission from Asmodeus for it.”

A flame caught fire in the every inch of the Imp, clawing at the Crystal while the anger piled up until it bubbles up the surface. His sharp teeth gritted against each other before lashing out.

“You could've just given me this stupid fucking Crystal and none of the bullshit that happened would've happened!” His hands shot forward.

His shoulders now rose up high. “Is that how you fuck with people!? And now what — You're just gonna go get a new toy?”

Confused by the reaction, Stolas shook his head. Blitz slammed the Crystal to the wooden surface before storming to his safe where the book was being stored. The Prince couldn't find words at all since Blitz kept complaining loudly. Reminding him of Stella — just for a short, brief millisecond. It scared him. Blitz threw the thick metal door open against the wall behind.

“Well good luck finding another fucking Idiot, because I don't even know who would be so damn stupid agreeing to your bullshit.” So close to trip over his own feet, he pressed the book to Stolas' chest.

Baring his teeth with a shadow over his face, he gave him the same look he'd given to Verosika the day she'd caught him at the horse riding lessons. The day they fought in public and officially broke up afterwards. Not that the situation was the same, however, it felt suspiciously similar to that past event that still occasionally came visiting him in his dreams.

The fear roaming through the Prince got replaced by disappointment when watching how Blitz did the one thing he'd been terrified of receiving. That resentment forced out all over the place by the hand of himself, yet he couldn't turn back time to try it differently. As much as he wanted. This was reality and he might be a Goetia, but he was no time travelling God.

That accusation hurt the most when thinking about it, the fact Blitz really believed he's just simply going to move along getting an new Imp, or plaything, showed the nonexistent trust Blitz actually held for him this whole time. Texts of apology, attempts of making up by doing normal things like watching a series, skipping Full Moons, there's no thing in all of Hell that would have helped overpowering his status. That one problem blocking the pathway for something serious between them.

Stolas placed the book underneath his coat, failing at the eye contact and instead fumbling with his hands, keeping his focus there. “I do not plan that. We can... still meet if you like.”

“Just get out of my fucking office already, I have no nerves for this right now. I'm at work still, damn it!”

Figuring that this was the maximum he's able to offer or do, Stolas nodded. “Very well. Until we meet again, Blitz.” With that, he left the building.

Never once turning around or gifting the other people a look, he couldn't bear the thought of being seen this broken down. He knew exactly what his face said to the outside world and he wanted to ensure that it would seek as little attention as possible.

The door to his office room closed softly, so very calm and slowly that it was an eternity to Blitz. He waited, continuing to lean against the desk as his legs shook too hard. Eavesdropping his employees go dead silent, going back to their doings a few seconds afterwards. He heard Loona sigh and Moxxie reload the weapon again. He heard cars outside the building drive by, he could perceive every single sound around him.

His face turned to the side. Finding that Crystal lay there obediently, waiting for him to use it instead of the book that's now gone. Gone. Where did the sounds go? He wasn't able to hear a single thing right after. As if deaf from birth, as if someone tore his eardrums. The burning taste on his tongue now reached his consciousness to announce the panic attack he's having.

Blitz caught his body just before falling down to the ground, breathing heavily albeit without a sound coming out. His eyes ran over the floor, back forth, back forth and again. What just happened? What did he just do? What did that damned Owl just do to him?

His fingers twitched when reaching up his cheeks, they're completely wet and he didn't realize until that moment. Of course he knew what just happened and the exact implication of that gift.

Stolas could've given him that Crystal from the very beginning. But he didn't because he liked having Blitz as his little Imp. Fucking royal asshole had been playing pretend the whole time, he must have been. Why else would he give him the Crystal now? But then a conclusion hit Blitz and his uneven breathing stopped altogether. The last time he'd been in contact with Stolas was... the day he got hospitalized.

Both his hands landed on the desk, weak like never before. And while he tried to not throw up — he noticed that this was their last interaction before needing rest to recover. He almost died and Blitz knew he was invited for a visit, Stolas outright asked him to come. But like normally, he declined and assumed he can just brush it over. Stolas wasn't invincible as he first assumed and settled down with though. Did he finally cross that line? Breaking that patience fassade which he couldn't escape from?

His body slacked down at the table with his hand coming up to cover his eyes. Why was he crying again? It's been an arrangement since day one and that never changed throughout their history together, Blitz had confirmed it firmly after the incident at Ozzie's. It's business, that's all. So why was he that shook up over something he clearly shouldn't care about? It's not like wanted to, it's not like he was too dumb to understand. It's more about refusing acknowledgement than living in delusions.

But that's what broken people do, right? He asked himself bitterly. His wet face lifted up slightly, only enough to look at the office door. “Fuck…”

Fuck that good feeling. This feeling of recovery was beaten into the ground with a single gesture. Fizz was his childhood friend, he could repair this as it's been a big misunderstanding. But this? Stolas? The noble Goetia Prince? Yeah, sure, like he's going to remember Blitz's name in a few weeks. He's done and therefore they were done without discussion. That's how this worked, after all. Royals aren't approachable. Blitz knew that from the start and should've stick with it. Goddamn it.

Exhausted due to these heavy tears, Blitz used the remaining strength in his system to go behind the desk. He opened the drawer in rapid motion, the gift that's already wrapped bouncing against it. The wrapping paper wasn't good, the edges stood up and the cuts weren't clean. It looked ugly and worthless. Blitz hissed through his teeth then.

He picked it up and immediately threw it into the trashcan beside his desk before leaving through the backdoor for a break.

The card saying “Merry Christmas. From Blitz to Stolas.” hung down in the dark of the empty office now. Remaining there considering he wouldn't need it tonight. After all, he was not going anywhere.

[hockeynoses]

you’re gonna have to ask me

Summary: “Okay, Stevie, here’s what we’re gonna do,” Eddie says with a mischievous glint in his eye, “I’m gonna hold the tissues,” he holds the full box up, “and you’re gonna ask me every time you need one.”

Rating: 18+

Warnings: MESS. Some very mild D/s if you squint. 1.4k.

Notes: A demon took over my body and wrote this last week when I was supposed to be working. I didn’t used to be this into mess and I don’t know who I am anymore! There’s just something about Steve...

The title is from Drive by Melissa Ferrick (ahh the good ol’ days of The L-Word.)

---

“Okay, Stevie, here’s what we’re gonna do,” Eddie says with a mischievous glint in his eye, “I’m gonna hold the tissues,” he holds the full box up, “and you’re gonna ask me every time you need one.”

“Ogkay,” Steve sniffs and eyes him warily.

“If you get interrupted or can’t complete the sentence, I’m not giving you one. You’ll have to ask again.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Finde.” He gives a congested sniffle and wipes his nose on the back of his hand. “I’b already dnot godda last very long.”

“Good,” Eddie grins, eager for the game to start. Already, there’s heat coiling inside him at the idea.

“How far ihhh- ind advance can I ask for one?”

“It doesn’t matter. The only rule is that you have to ask,” Eddie clarifies, fingers toying with the corner of the tissue currently sticking out of the box.

“Does itd coundt as asking if I say I ‘ndeed’ - heh - oned?”

Eddie considers it, says, “Sure. I’m not gonna be a tyrant about it.” He’s already watching Steve intently, waiting to see how he’ll start - or rather, be forced to start.

“Ogkay, I – hih – I thingk – hih-ESSSHoo!” Bringing his elbow up to muffle the sneeze, he’s relieved to find that it isn’t as messy as he’d thought. That’s probably not gonna last long, he thinks.

Pulling his face back from his elbow and blinking to clear his head, he turns to Eddie and says, “I dneed a tissue, Eddie.”

“My pleasure,” Eddie gives him a wicked smile as he plucks one from the box, holding it out to Steve with a flourish of his wrist. “Just one?” he asks innocently.

Steve gives him a look. “You kdnow onde is dever enough for bme.”

“Alright, for brevity’s sake I’ll take pity on you,” Eddie says, handing him another one.

Steve gives a productive sniff, saying, “Thaggs,” before burying his red nose in the tissues and forcing a heavy, bubbling blow into them. “Ugh.” It does nothing to clear his sinuses, and he gives a testing sniff that barely gets any air through. Tossing the used kleenex into the bin on the floor beside him, he asks, “So…do you wadda putd a bmovie ond or somethigg? Bight get kind of borigg. I don’t kdnow how long ihhh- it’ll be until bmy next one.”

Eddie watches him knuckle at his nose, clearly already gearing up for another sneeze. “No, I think I’m good. Don’t need a movie when I can just watch you,” he says, leaning into Steve’s space.

Flushing under the attention, Steve rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Alright Rombeo.” That gets an answering laugh from Eddie, who can’t help but reel him in for an exaggerated kiss on the cheek, making Steve scrunch up his face in response.

“Ogkay, bacgk up before I – hiiih – before I sdeeze on you,” he says, fanning at his face.

“Hmm, can’t have that now, can we?” Eddie says.

“C-can I have a tiiihh- a tissue?” Steve asks, eyes fluttering shut as he tilts his head back.

“Yes, you can,” Eddie smiles, handing him two. His hungry eyes trail over Steve’s neck, up to his parted lips, pink nose, and long eyelashes. Gorgeous, he thinks.

Steve snatches them out of his hand, quickly covering his face just in time for a wet “hih’AESSSHH! Ha-AETTTSHHuh!” He groans, finishing off with a juicy noseblow.

Eddie tries to temper the excitement he’s feeling, a hot flush making its way down his chest. “Sounds like you have a fit coming on,” he teases, eyes heavy-lidded.

“Ugh… probably,” Steve says, wiping his glistening nostrils before massaging the bridge of his nose. He can practically feel the congestion shifting around, and hopes it will all clear out, despite how potentially gross that might be.

An itch seems to have taken up permanent residence deep in his nose, already yearning for another release.

“Heh – shi-iiih-t – fugk, I’b so stuffed up – hahhh – Cand I -?” before he can finish, his body is wracked by a powerful, “hih-RISSSHHAH! Heh’GKSSSHHTT!” The sticky mess is caught in his hand, and he looks over at Eddie, asking, “Cand I – ESSHHH!” Eyes clenching shut as he snaps forward again. “Fugk! Can I have a tissue?” he asks desperately, finally able to get it out.

“O-of course!” comes Eddie’s shaky response, blinking at the scene in front of him. Just for that, he hands him three. Steve takes them gratefully. Eddie watches in a haze as Steve tries to clean up the mess as gracefully as possible, mopping up the viscous muck between his face and hand.

“Excuse bme,” Steve says politely, with an exaggerated sniff as he tosses the kleenex.

“Uh huh…” Eddie’s twitterpated brain is unable to come up with a better response. He might have underestimated this little game he cooked up.

“These are bmessier than I thought, so I – hihhh – I should probably ask for mbore now.”

“Yeah?” Eddie doesn’t move.

“Can you hand mbe some tissues, Eddie?” he asks, giving another deep, squelching sniff, rubbing a finger under his nose. “I thigk I’b godda d’need themb.”

Eddie swallows thickly, plucking several from the box and handing them over with a soft, “Here.” He wonders if Steve notices the flush dancing across his cheeks.

“Thaggs, babe,” Steve says before bringing the bundle up to wipe his dripping nose.  He keeps it pressed to his face, feeling another itch desperate for freedom as his breath starts to hitch. Curling forward with a wrenching, “ha-KKRSSSH! Hih…eh-KSSHOO! Gsh’HT’CCHHuh!” he stills, afraid to pull the drenched kleenex away from his face.

“I thigk I dneed a new one. This oned can’td hold andybore.” As Eddie nods and hands him a fresh one, Steve pinches off the mess still attached to his nostrils and tosses the destroyed tissues, immediately soiling the new one with a crackling blow.

“Ugh, sorry these are so gross,” Steve says, cleaning up his face once more. He leans back against the couch, catching his breath.

“Please, you know you look good doing anything.” Eddie looks up at him through his eyelashes. “Tease,” he accuses with a smirk.

Steve tilts his head to look at him, giving him a soft smile. Reaching out to place a hand on the side of Eddie’s neck, he strokes his thumb across the warm skin there. Eddie leans into the touch and their eyes meet for a brief, heated moment.

The reprieve is interrupted not long after; leaning his head back against the couch has the unfortunate effect of shifting the congestion in Steve’s sinuses, and before he knows it, he’s bracing for another fit.

“Oh god that tiiiih- tickles,” he vigorously rubs his palm against the tip of his nose. Eyes going unfocused, pink nostrils flaring, he asks, “I – heh – I’b godda –”

Eddie looks at him expectantly, raising his eyebrows. “You’re gonna?”

“Eddie – please!”

“Please what?” Eddie is thinking with his dick now, feeling giddy and sadistic.

“I dneed – ahh – a tiiih- tish’ISHHH’OO!”

“I don’t think that counts,” Eddie says with a playful gleam in his eyes.

Any further begging is cut short by Steve’s unrelenting nose, spraying several sneezes, “hi’IIISSHHHuu! ETTTCCHH! Hah-EXXTSSHuh!” that he only manages to half-cover in his cupped hands.

“Bless you,” says Eddie, never taking his eyes off him.

Steve glares at him over the hands clamped to his face, rocked by another harsh, “Hiiiih-ZZSSHHESSH!” He can feel the fresh cords of slime coating his hands. “Eddie, I dneed a tissue.”

“What’s the magic word?” Eddie feels fucking high. He’s turned on beyond belief and can’t help milking the situation for all it’s worth.

“ehh…heh-EH’IIIRRRSSHOO!” A scraping sneeze that dislodges even more gunk into his hand. “Please?” he asks, voice thick and desperate.

“Anything for you, big boy,” Eddie hands him a huge wad of tissues, saying, “Here, you’ve earned it.”

Steve pulls back his hands in the process and there are strings of shining mess still tethered to his face. He mops up everything as best he can, finishing by gratefully burying his face into the mass and filling it with a gurgling blow.

“Thaggs,” he says after a tired groan.

“Anytime,” Eddie says breathlessly as he sets the box to the side and crawls into Steve’s lap. This is the best idea he’s ever had.

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 720.5: Hayatani-san wants to observe

Pag 1

1: At Sohoku High School

It's lunch break!!

Three anpan!

Here, your change is 40 yen

Hurry up!!

2: There is a school store!!

Ohh, do you remember? Look, this store's.... that's right!! I'm Hayatani Yuuko (44)!!

They still have a special yaki!!

3: Yes

Yees

Here, your change is 100 yen

Amazing, she's so fast!!

Ah!! But in my heart I'm 24 years old!! Day after day I quickly hand bread to satsify the hungry students' stomaches!!

4: I keep a close eye both on the bread and the students' movements

The Thousand-armed Kannon Yuuko is kind to everyone!!

Boy, guve that bread to that girl, please

Thank you so much!

5: During lunch break the store is so chaotic, but

Alright, the melon bread is sold out!

Do you have the cocoa bread?

Pag 2

1: Other times are unexpectedly free

2: Between second and thrid period, when the sunlight hits just right, it feels so good

Ahh, I wonder what song is tha5

3: You seriously have never eaten daifuku at that store, Sugimoto-san!?

It's because I'm not close to it, my class is on the other side

4: I'll buy it this time, really!

You said this the other day too

Ah, the boy with orange hair from the bicycles team

At that time I get read for lunch break while watching the students

5: It's the boy who always comes to get a “special yaki life”

6: I always buy more!! But then I eat it before I give it to you!!

…. yeah yeah

7: The boy noext to him is in the bicycles team too, like Naruko-kun

Pag 3

1: Maybe he brings a lunch box? He never comes to buy bread, but he comes to buy stationery....

Do you have.... uhm, the sharp lead for a mechanical pen?

The 0.5mm B ones... next week the first years students have their first exams, so I want them to be prepared

2: He seemed like a polite and reliable guy

I wonder if he a third year already...

3: Right now, his back definitely looks like that of a senpai taking good care of his kouhai

Then let's go together this time, together

Yeah!!

So you can't eat it yourself on the way, right?

Yeah, Sugimoto-san you're a genius!

4: Yo

Ah, Imaizumi

Imaizumi-san

Listen, now with Sugimoto-san...

5: Do we put these components on the desk in the clubroom?

Yeah, thank you

6: Ah.... I know that boy too, he's so tall....

7: I'm sure....

Excuse me

Pag 4

1: May I ask? Do you have a clear A4 holder?

He's Sohoku's bicycles racing team captain, Imaizumi-kun!!

2: As expected, the aura of the two times national champion is on another level

Hayatani-san guessed it wrong

3: I have it, an holder for A4 documents

He has to callect the club's documents, since he's the captain

He's not the captain though

4: You're going this year too? To the nationl competition

6: You mean the Inter High?

That's right!!

Pag 5

1: We still have the qualifiers to do

So we can't say anything, but we plan to go – me, Naruko

2: and our captain Onoda!!

4: He.... people usually tend to think that he's strange and unreliable, and he himself said “maybe I should show a more dignified attitude to the first years”

But during practice his eyes are really different

Huh?

Huh!?

Huh!?

5: “Captain”?

But? Isn't that you!?

6: He himself doesn't realize it, and that's why everyone follows him

Pag 6

1: I think we're going, to the Inter High!!

Because it's like he's making “promises” with all sorts of guys!!

And he's the kind of guy who will do his everything to keep a promise

2: Onoda!!

Pag 7

1: No no, you mean you're Onoda-kun!?

Huh!? Imaizumi-kun!? No, I got it wrong, Onoda-kun is a boy wearing glasses!!

2: The boy that won two times in a row and  that Naruko-kun said it's the captain!!

3: Ehiii!

4: Imaizumi-kun

5: Ah, the first year with the pretty smile from the other day... no, he's a third year!

6: Ah, you know him?

I gave him bread when he needed it the other day

Imaizumi-kun, you know him too?

Yeah, he's....

Pag 8

1: Kya-!

Our capt-

2: Don't fall over for nothing

So-sorry, Imaizumi-kun

He gave him a hand right away, eh... he's so nice

4: Ehi! You really have lots of amazing friends!!

7: Yes!!

8: They announced a new season of Love Hime!

Ehh...

9: Ah... I failed to catch that boy's name once again

Hayatani-san was still looking forward to “meet” Onoda