#and ugh it's so frustrating when you do so much prep for something

[izanacore]

“can’t say no” | rindou haitani x reader

one-shot 𓂃⋆.˚

synopsis: rindou and y/n have always been best friends—doing everything together, no boundaries, no awkwardness. but when y/n calls him over for an unexpected favor, things take a turn neither of them saw coming. one request changes everything… and stopping isn’t as easy as they thought.

characters: rindou haitani, fem!reader, ran haitani

warnings: smut (18+), best friends to fwb, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, overstimulation, dirty talk, slight choking, hair pulling, manhandling, praise, mild degradation, phone sex (sort of), ran being nosy, possessive rindou, teasing, implied multiple rounds, slight innocence kink, slight corruption kink, slight exhibitionism/voyeurism, “just the tip” (fails miserably), and overall just very bad decision-making

notes: ig we are all just down bad for rindou. and i had to put ran here, i can’t really separate the two.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

rindou and y/n were best friends. the kind that did everything together—eating, studying, sleepovers, movie marathons. the kind that talked about sex like it was just another tuesday. casual. effortless. harmless.

but they had never crossed that line.

until one afternoon.

y/n: rin, come over. need ur help w something lol

rindou: ok. omw. u want food on the way?

y/n: nah, got leftovers here.

rindou: alright. see u.

ten minutes later, the door to y/n’s apartment swung open. nothing surprising. rindou had a key of his own at this point.

“riiiiin… come here,” her voice rang out, laced with a whine.

rindou strolled into her bedroom, hands in his pockets, only to freeze at the sight before him.

y/n. sprawled across her bed. sheets barely covering her. skin flushed. hair a mess. breathing just a little too uneven.

yeah. she just fucked someone.

rindou swallowed. hard. not that he hadn’t seen her naked before—because let’s be honest, their friendship had long since left the realm of normal—but this? this was different. this was post-sex. this was…

“yo, what’s up?” he asked, forcing himself to sound unaffected.

y/n patted the bed beside her. “rin, come.”

his jaw ticked. he walked over but didn’t sit. “what is it this time?”

she huffed, pushing her hair back. “so… i just had someone over—”

“yeah, no shit,” rindou deadpanned.

“listen!!” she whined again. “so… i need your help with something. it’s… it’s okay if you don’t want to, but you’re the only one i trust, y’know?”

rindou sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “yeah, yeah. just spit it out.”

y/n’s face twisted in frustration. “i’m so fucking annoyed. this guy just—ugh. he came too much on me, and i want it out. like now.”

rindou exhaled sharply. “so what do you want me to do?”

y/n looked up at him, lips parting, voice breathy when she said—

“fuck me. i don’t know!!! just help me get it out of me.”

rindou sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “on your back.”

y/n shifted but paused. “wait. we’re not actually gonna fuck, right? just… y’know, you have to make the cum come out, so yeah.”

rindou nodded. “mhm.”

y/n laid back like he asked, pushing the sheets off her. rindou pulled his shirt over his head, then unbuttoned his jeans, but there was something almost hesitant about the way he did it—like he was still wrapping his head around the situation. y/n propped herself up on her elbows, watching him.

then, out of nowhere, rindou leaned in and kissed her.

her brows furrowed slightly, lips parting against his. “rin… you just… you just need to… no need for this.”

but she still kissed him back. it’s not like this was their first kiss or anything.

rindou pulled back just enough to mumble, “oh. s-sorry. i thought i had to, um… prep you first?”

y/n blinked, then chuckled. “oh. alright, i guess this isn’t bad.”

apparently, that was all the confirmation rindou needed because he dipped back down, this time kissing along her neck, slow and careful, like he wasn’t quite sure what he was doing—but the soft little sighs y/n let out told him he was doing just fine.

“rin… ugh…”

he swallowed hard. her moans sounded… different when they were for him.

when he was satisfied (or maybe just too flustered to keep going), he shifted, positioning himself between her legs, one of them resting over his shoulder.

“don’t go all in,” y/n reminded him, voice still breathy. “just… help me make it come out.”

rindou nodded quickly. “okay…”

his tip pushed against her entrance, sliding in just slightly as he moved at an almost careful pace.

“shit, y/n…”

after a few shallow thrusts, she exhaled. “is it working?”

rindou bit his lip, brows knitting together. “i… i don’t think so. should i go slightly deeper?”

“yes, please do.”

his breath hitched. he pushed in halfway, trying to focus—really trying—but fuck, she felt too good. the tight warmth, the way her walls clenched around him…

a shaky groan slipped past his lips before he could stop it, so he buried his face against her neck, hoping she wouldn’t notice just how much this was getting to him.

rindou kept going, one hand gripping her waist, the other bracing against the mattress beside her head. his breath was ragged, his pace relentless. “fuck, y/n… so this is how tight you are?”

y/n chuckled, tapping his back. “rin, i think it’s already out.”

but rindou wasn’t listening. he was too far gone, too drunk on the way she felt wrapped around him.

“rin…” she called again, but it was useless. instead of slowing down, he buried himself deeper, his thrusts turning rough, fast—skin slapping against skin in a way that left no room for restraint. he went all the way in. there was no going back now. he was fucking his best friend.

his fingers curled around her wrists, pinning her down. y/n moaned, arching into the pleasure. “rin… shit, you’re going too fast. slow down—”

but rindou wasn’t in the mood to listen. his mind was blank, consumed only by the feeling of her. before she could protest, he pulled out and flipped her onto her stomach, pushing back inside with no warning. a sharp gasp left her lips as he fucked her harder, his hands gripping her arms, keeping her exactly where he wanted.

“shit, y/n, your pussy is so fucking good… should’ve fucked you before.”

suddenly, her phone rang.

rindou barely faltered, but he did release her arms, settling his hands on her waist instead. “answer it.”

y/n hesitated, then reached for her phone, swiping the screen. putting it on speaker, she assumed rindou’s brother needed something. “r-ran…?”

ran’s voice came through the speaker, casual. “hey, y/n. you with rindou right now?”

before y/n could respond, rindou snatched the phone from her hand. “what do you want?” he sounded breathless, impatient—still moving inside her.

“mom said you need to come home. she made dinner.”

rindou groaned, long and low, hips snapping into y/n without missing a beat.

ran went silent. then—

“are you guys fucking right now?”

rindou smirked. “yeah. so fuck off. tell mom i’ll be home soon.” he hung up before ran could say another word, tossing the phone aside.

without warning, he grabbed y/n, pulling her up until her back was against his chest. one hand slid up to her throat, fingers curling slightly, applying just enough pressure to make her whimper. the other pinned her wrists behind her back as he fucked into her, deeper, harder.

y/n’s body trembled from the intensity. “rin… fuck, so good…”

“yeah?” he panted, voice rough. “better than the guy you had earlier?”

she nodded eagerly, too lost in the pleasure to think.

rindou suddenly leaned in, licking a slow stripe up her neck before capturing her lips in a deep, messy kiss—tongues tangling, teeth grazing, her fingers twisting into his hair as she moaned into his mouth.

“rin… i’m gonna cum. shit, ugh—”

“me too, y/n… fuck! love your pussy...”

the pleasure crashed over her, her whole body shaking as she came hard around him. rindou didn’t stop—he was chasing his own high, desperate for release. when y/n’s body went limp, falling forward onto the mattress, he grabbed a fistful of her hair, forcing her to look at him.

a few more brutal thrusts, and then—

“shit… shit!!!! ugh—”

rindou groaned as he came inside her, hips jerking, thrusts turning sloppy as he milked every last drop before finally pulling out and collapsing beside her.

y/n, still on her stomach, lifted herself just enough to crawl onto his chest, resting her head there. rindou’s arm lay lazily across the bed, completely spent.

she huffed. “i can’t believe you came inside me. you fucked me for nothing.”

rindou smirked, eyes still half-lidded. “then i’ll fuck it out of you again. at least this time, it’s my cum.”

y/n chuckled, shaking her head. “then it’s gonna be never-ending sex.”

rindou shrugged. “i don’t mind.”

she poked his side playfully, then sighed. “didn’t know you were a good fuck.”

rindou smirked. “you never asked.”

y/n bit her lip, glancing up at him. “…then let’s do it more often.”

rindou’s eyes darkened with interest, and just like that, they went for another round—completely forgetting about dinner at the haitani household.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

the walk home felt longer than usual. maybe it was the lingering exhaustion, or maybe it was the fact that his body still felt sensitive from earlier. either way, rindou was drained—but satisfied.

he pushed open the front door, stepping inside with a low sigh. “i’m home.”

from the dimly lit living room, ran’s voice greeted him. “you better come up with a good excuse to mom for coming home this late, or she’s gonna beat your ass.” he chuckled. “dinner’s on the table. just heat it up.”

“okay.” rindou’s response was flat as he made his way into the kitchen, too tired to care.

he barely had the microwave open when he sensed ran following him.

“was the sex that good you went on for hours?”

rindou didn’t even flinch, grabbing a plate. “yeah. best fuck i’ve ever had.” his voice was still painfully plain—too casual, as if he were talking about the weather.

ran hummed, leaning against the counter. he watched rindou for a moment before snorting. “y’know… if you didn’t make a move, i was gonna hit her up myself. that girl is so pretty. literally my type.”

rindou’s grip on the plate tightened slightly.

ran smirked. “man, i knew you had the hots for her. even before you did, but you were just too fucking slow.”

rindou exhaled through his nose, finally looking up. “fuck off. she’s off-limits now.”

ran chuckled, completely unbothered. “as if i care about that.”

and with that, he strolled out of the kitchen, leaving rindou scowling as he heated up his food.

but ran’s words lingered, and now rindou had a whole new problem—keeping his nosy ass brother away from his girl.

[goldfades]

can you do one with azzi and the five love languages? like how her and her gf are with all 5

ugh i love azzi so much, shes my baby angel precious princess she cannot do anything wrong in my eyes. anyway! heres a fic

words of affirmation

It wasn’t like Azzi needed to be told she was good—her stats, her trophies, her highlights, they all spoke for themselves. But that didn’t mean she didn’t want to hear it. Especially from her.

Azzi was always hardest on herself after a bad game. And by “bad,” it usually meant she’d still dropped a solid twenty points but missed a few shots she thought she should’ve made. She didn’t sulk, exactly, but she got quiet. The kind of quiet that sat heavy between them, stretching across the space in their apartment like an unspoken loss.

And Azzi never asked for reassurance. Never outright sought it. She was too disciplined, too locked in, the kind of player who internalized every mistake and used it as fuel. But that didn’t mean she didn’t need it.

Especially on nights like this.

You knew the pattern well by now—how she’d shower in silence, how she’d settle onto the couch with her protein shake, her body still tense from the game, jaw tight with whatever frustration she was turning over in her head.

You didn’t say anything at first. You just sat beside her, close enough that your thigh pressed against hers, letting the space between you settle. Letting her come down from it in her own time.

When the moment felt right, you leaned into her a little more, your fingers tracing lazy shapes against her wrist. “You know,” you started, keeping your voice soft but certain, “I love the way you see the court. You always make the right play, even when it’s not the easiest one. That kick-out to the corner in the third? That was beautiful, Az.”

You felt her exhale, the slightest release of tension, but she didn’t respond. You kept going.

“And I love how you fight for every single point. Even when it’s not your night, you never stop pushing. That’s what makes you different.”

Azzi turned her head slightly, looking at you for the first time all night. There was something unreadable in her eyes—something softer than frustration, something closer to understanding.

“Yeah?” she asked, quiet but almost hopeful.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “And also, you’re still the best shooter in the country, in case you forgot.”

That finally pulled a small, breathy laugh from her, her head dipping for just a second before she leaned into you, letting her forehead rest against your shoulder. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. You could feel it in the way she softened against you, in the way her fingers curled around yours.

She was letting herself believe it.

acts of service

Azzi wasn’t good at slowing down. You knew that about her. She ran herself into the ground, always pushing past what her body probably wanted, never really stopping long enough to listen to it.

So you did it for her.

It started small—little things like making sure she had her protein shakes prepped, slipping extra recovery packs into her bag before away games. But then you started noticing more—the way she winced slightly when she sat down, the way she rolled her ankle absentmindedly throughout the day, the way she stretched her calf a little longer than usual.

She never complained. Never even acknowledged it. Which meant it was exactly the kind of thing she’d ignore until it became a real problem.

So, when she got home from practice one evening, sweaty and exhausted, she walked into a fully prepped recovery session in the living room.

The coffee table had been pushed aside, a yoga mat rolled out in its place. Next to it, a foam roller, resistance bands, massage oil, the works. Everything she needed to take care of herself—if she ever actually stopped long enough to do it.

She stood there, hands on her hips, staring at it like she didn’t understand what she was looking at. “What’s all this?”

You leaned against the wall, arms crossed, feigning nonchalance. “Recovery session,” you said. “You don’t take care of yourself, so I’m doing it for you.”

Azzi scoffed, amused. “I do take care of myself—”

“You literally said, ‘it’s not that bad’ about a sprained ankle.”

Azzi opened her mouth, then shut it. You had her there.

She sighed, the kind of sigh that meant she was giving in, and flopped onto the mat. “Fine,” she muttered, but there was a smile threatening her lips.

You sat beside her, already reaching for her calf, hands working over the tight muscle with practiced ease. She let out the smallest, pleased hum, melting just a little under your touch.

“You just wanted an excuse to touch me,” she murmured, eyes closed now, smug.

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe.”

receiving gifts

Azzi wasn’t someone who cared about gifts in a material way, but she was terrible at keeping track of things. Shoes, water bottles, her lucky shooting sleeve—you name it, she’d misplaced it at some point.

You, however, paid attention.

So when you noticed that she’d lost yet another pair of her favorite grip socks—the same ones she swore made all the difference in her footwork—you didn’t even hesitate.

You ordered a new pair and tucked them neatly into her practice bag, right on top of her jersey, so she’d find them the next day.

That evening, she walked into the apartment holding them up, an amused expression on her face. “Did you…?”

You barely looked up from your coffee. “You lost yours. Again.”

Azzi shook her head, pulling them on immediately. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love me,” you said simply.

She grinned, no hesitation. “Yeah. I do.”

quality time

Time together was rare. Between games, travel, and training, it felt like life kept you moving in different directions.

Which was why, when you finally had a full day off together, you made it count.

You didn’t go anywhere, didn’t make plans—just stayed in, wrapped up in blankets, soft candles flickering, homemade pancakes stacked high on the counter.

At some point in the afternoon, Azzi sprawled across the couch, her head resting in your lap, a book balanced on her stomach. She wasn’t reading, though. Just lying there, eyes closed, letting you run your fingers down her back.

“You asleep?” you asked softly.

She hummed. “Not yet.”

You smiled, shifting slightly so you could get comfortable. This was what you loved most. Not the grand gestures, not the crowded arenas—just this. Just her. Just quiet, lazy afternoons where nothing else in the world mattered.

physical touch

Azzi wasn’t overly affectionate in public. She wasn’t cold, just… private. She didn’t need big displays, didn’t need to prove anything. But when it was just the two of you? Different story.

Which is why, after an exhausting day, she walked through the door and immediately collapsed into you, wrapping her arms around your waist, pressing herself against you like she was trying to crawl into your skin.

You barely had time to react before she buried her face in your neck, sighing deeply.

“Rough practice?” you asked, running a hand over her back.

She mumbled something unintelligible, tightening her hold.

You smiled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Wanna talk about it?”

She shook her head.

“Just wanna be held?”

A nod.

So you held her. No questions, no expectations. Just the soft weight of her body against yours, the steady rhythm of her breathing, the unspoken promise that no matter how chaotic the world got, this was always her safe place.

You.

[verdant-mistress]

It started with a question.

"Can you feed me?"

What a strange request from your roommate. Admittedly there was always some sort of tension between you two, though you never really understood the nature of it. She had a boyfriend after all, and seemed to be happy. You didn't want to ruin that so you never acted on it. But tonight was strange. The torrential downpour outside meant neither of you had the excuse to seclude yourselves in your rooms with a delivery order and you were going to have to make dinner. As much as you loved her, your roommate never really did learn how to cook, let alone take care of herself. Even back in college you were always having to dote on her just to make sure she was doing okay. You shamefully enjoyed the freshman 15 that piled up on her as a result. Though, she managed to loose it once you both graduated and moved into this apartment.

You reminisce as you prep dinner for the two of you. Bolognese. Her favorite. She always had quite the gluttonous side to her. There's that shame again. Desire. Well...what if. No. You push the thought down as you click on the burner. It's quite the storm out there.

After some time you assemble the rest of the dish and tuck it away in the oven to finish up. The tv from the living room drowns out the howling winds and you notice how cold you are. Joining your roommate on the couch, you both settle in while waiting for the sauce to cook.

"Ugh. So I got in an argument with Isaac over my weight."

Shame.

"Oh? But like, you're not even fat?"

Sympathy.

"I mean...yeah. But I don't know. It just seemed like he was getting mad about something else but just blamed it on my weight."

Comfort.

"Well hey, that's on him. He needs to learn how to communicate better and not just act out of frustration."

Consolation.

"I know...but I guess he's not wrong about the fat thing. I've been kinda putting on weight recently."

Desire.

"Oh. Well uh-"

The oven dings before you can finish your thought. There's an awkward silence left as your head clears and you get up to finish up the dish. Tossing the whole thing together you let the guilt of your passions linger somberly but you put on a brave face as you bring out the dish to the dining room table. Before you can put it down your roommate asks if you want to bring it over to the living room so you can watch tv together and snuggle up for warmth. You oblige despite your internal hesitations.

You forgot how good of a cook you are. Damn it was good. But clearly someone else was remembering too. She was already scrambling for seconds by the time you settled in and you could see in her eyes that thirds was already in the works.

There was something so beautiful about the way she ate. It always drew you in. Desire, sure. But something else too. Maybe you loved her. The radiance she glowed with when she was bigger was heart-rending and at times you just wanted to admit what had been building up for years. What a beautiful laugh she has.

Shame. Oh well. Enjoy these fleeting moments in silence. At least you got to experience them.

"Hey."

You notice she stopped eating. Heaving breathing.

You look at the pot...you swore there were going to be leftovers. Yet, there was just enough for one more serving. You just barely finished yours.

Desire. Burning desire.

Your body goes numb as she stares submissively...knowingly, into your eyes.

"Can you feed me?"

[moody-alcoholic]

Kidnapped

John Price x reader

CW: You read the title right? break in, kidnapping, drugging, canon typical violence.

Part 2

You always thought John was joking when he told you, you might have to hide from people out to get him. He’s a soldier after all, not a crook. He’s out there doing his bit for queen and country, saving lives and fighting the bad guys.

It’s not like in the movies where there’s drugs or you’re on the run, he hasn’t broken the law. You live a simple life; you work, you cook, shop, keep the house clean. The only difference between you and any other person you know is your husband sometimes disappears for weeks at a time. Months if you’re unlucky.  

There’s missed birthdays and anniversaries, contact can be hard when he’s away. You fill your time by working overtime or hanging out with friends so when he’s home you can dedicate all your time to him. 

So you thought it was him when the slam of a door jolts you from your sleep. You open your eyes, picking up your phone to check the time. It’s almost 2am, not an unusual time for him to get back after a long deployment. 

But something is different, something is wrong. 

John is not the type of person to sneak through your house, he’s not the type of person to worry about not making noise. Whoever closed the door is walking through your house in silence. There’s no heavy drop of a duffle bag, no bounce of kicked off boots. No clank of keys in the bowl by the door. 

It’s so silent you can hear your own heartbeat picking up in your chest. 

Maybe it was the wind, maybe you forgot to close a window? Then you hear the creek on the steps, the pause in the intruder's stride. This is an old house with old floors. 

John told you want to do, he prepped you for this exact situation but somehow in the panic of the moment your mind is drawing a blank. Maybe you should pretend to be asleep, maybe then they will leave you alone. 

No, something tells you to move. You grab your phone slipping off your bed onto the floor. In the basement there’s a storm room, although living in the UK you don’t have much use for it, John refurbished it to a panic room. He keeps his ‘not-so-legal’ weapons in there, only you and him know the code. 

You’re forgetting everything he taught you, all you can think about is making sure you don’t lose your phone and making it to the garage. You pull yourself up to your feet, your hands are shaking as you make it to the door. You crack it open holding your breath. 

“I think we need to go up a floor.” 

“Ugh, it’s going to be a pain to get her out of here.”

It’s two people, and they’re clearly after you. Your heart is hammering in your chest. You wait until you hear them start up the next flight before sneaking down to the ground floor. You can feel tears well up in your eyes. 

This can’t be happening, why are people after you? What did John do? 

You make it into the kitchen, closing the door behind you. You make sure to hold the handle down so there is no audible click before you let it go. Maybe you should run, just call the police. John told you not to though. Call John, get to the safe room.

It takes you two attempts to open the contacts app on your phone. Your hands are shaking, your fingers feel numb. Eventually you manage to click on his number bringing the phone up to your ear as the call rings out. You make it over to the backdoor that leads into the garage. 

“Come on, come on, John pick up.” You whisper hearing the shake in your voice, as you fumble for the back door key on the rack. It feels like you’re making too much noise. 

The call goes to the answerphone. “Fuck, John.” Frustration boils in you, why is he not picking up?

You find the key. The frustration is replaced with relief as you fumble pressing it into the keyhole. 

You dial his number again as you go into the garage, you can see the false wall of tools John hid the door behind. You’re rushing towards it as you pull the facade back revealing the slim door, into the meter-by-meter room. 

“Hey!” You turn seeing a figure in the dark you don’t recognise.

You forgot to lock the kitchen door. 

You throw yourself into the space. It’s too late someone grabs your arm. You scream and fight as they pull you back. Your body falls to the floor, you drop the phone. 

“NO!” you scream as a hand claps round your mouth. There’s another person now they’re shouting at each other, at you. You kick, and flail as hands grip you, fingers digging into your skin. Tears stream down your face, you feel a sharp slap across your cheek. 

The hand leaves your mouth and you scream as loud as you can. Even in your ears the scream sounds foreign. It’s real fear, you’re screaming for your life.

A wet rag is placed over your nose and mouth. It smells rancid, after a few breaths your head starts to swim. The second pair of hands grip your ankles. Suddenly you don’t have the strength to fight. Adrenaline pulses through you, you try to dig your heels into the ground. 

For a second you free one of your legs slamming your foot flat on the ground.

“Fuckin’ bitch!” 

An arm comes round your neck squeezing tight. You can’t breathe, you can't suck in air. Your head swims, your body goes limp. You try to squirm but it's no use. Your last though is of John, you hope you haven't let him down.

____

Part 2

[whisperwritingstuff]

got some more reverse untamed beasts for y'all

-----

"What do we do." Hissed words, piercing the veil of Grian's sleep. He tries to ignore them.

"Do we have to do anything? He doesn't seem bothered." A calmer voice.

"Of course he doesn't seem bothered! Do we seem bothered when-"

"Dunno man, he's like. Clearly awake."

"He's also clearly not right."

"No, I mean-"

"Did you hear him? Hell, maybe I can wait until after he takes another bite out of me- No, no, that's. I shouldn't. Right? I shouldn't?"

"I really don't know why you keep asking me as if I'm the morals of this operation."

"But I want to and that's. Ugh. Have I been being too hard on him? He. Like, he wasn't happy, but he did bring you back like. Basically as soon as I managed to ask him."

"Do you even have the faintest clue how to undo any-"

"I want him. I want him! I want to keep him."

"Then keep him."

"I can't."

"You can. There is no one to stop you."

The following drawn out shout of frustration is rather difficult to ignore, finally convincing Grian that he's not going to get back to sleep. Whatever.

He decides that instead of caring about whatever they were arguing about, he's going to see about making the den feel more homey. What to do, what to do... It doesn't smell enough like his magic, he decides.

The part that comes next Grian isn't entirely clear on. He presses his palms together, and kinda sideways focus-unfocuses. For sure something is happening, he can feel the flow of his magic up through himself, compressing into something solid between his palms.

Grian's not sure how long he stays like that, but when the flow of magic stops and he blinks his eyes open he's holding a crystal about the width and length of his forearm close to his chest.

"Pretty." Grian murmurs, watching the play of purple and gossamer blue glittering through the facets of the crystal.

The bed jolts with the force of Scar startled yelp and jump.

"I told you he was awake." Cub deadpans, before moving closer. "Now, what have you got there?"

"Crystal, for our den." Grian holds it up to the light for Cub to see, and is treated to Cub's pupils instantly dilating while Cub's wings beat like they're trying to outpace a hummingbird.

"Hey whazzat?" Scar pops up from behind Cub's shoulder, leaning heavily on him to peek as well. A couple blinks and then Scar gives a long wolf-whistle. "Wow, I didn't know you had it in you to proposition Cub like that."

"I- What?" Grian's voice clicks in high pitch.

"I think even you'd need some prep to get that in you, Cub." Scar clicks, cheerfully.

Cub's breath stutters.

"I just wanted our den to smell like me! You two don't have to be so weird about it." Grian snips, defensive. It's probably too much to hope that Scar has missed the way a flush tries to creep up his neck.

"Grian, buddy, that's like. Okay how do I put this. Like, a normal crystally magic thing? Is maybe the size of a small marble. That's fine for a den. What you've done is like." Scar searches for words, hands patting at Cub's cheek while he thinks.

Cub hasn't looked away from the crystal in Grian's arms.

"Like if you had a hundred thousandy wings for your little bird dance things or something." Scar finishes with a nod.

"That makes no sense." Grian can’t help trying to imagine it, if he’d unfolded more and more wings for a courtship. The mental image doesn’t come together.

"Exactly!" Scar nods even more. "That's unreasonable. Excessive. Powerful beyond all belief. So, you know, laser targeted at Cub. Isn't that right Cub-Cub?" Scar nuzzles Cub's cheek, getting a kind of hum-click out of Cub.

"We've played with magicy crystals kinda like that before." Scar carries on his chattering. "Oh, but we've never had a crystally magic that big to play with. Mm, just imagine it sliding in-"

A hungry keen escapes from Cub.

"You can't- Just say that?" Grian tries, as if he hadn't, briefly, been enraptured by Scar's words himself. Conjuring images of pressing Cub down into the bed, taking his sweet time to tenderly work Cub open-

Had he even thought of Cub like that before?

...how could he not, with Scar just openly talking about it and Cub looking at him like that?

"Why not? It's a lot more fun than talking about boring stuff like how your brain's still all kinds of shuffled up. How did you even know how to do that? Did he teach you?" Scar runs his hand up Cub's neck until he can hook a couple of fingers into Cub's mouth, idly pressing them in and out as he speaks. Cub loosely suckles at Scar's fingers.

"I just did it. Nobody taught me, it wasn't even that difficult, really." Grian watches, unable to look away from the casual show.

"You've really got a case of vex brain, haven't you? And that doesn't seem weird to you at all?" Scar presses.

"Why would it be?" Grian protests, reflexively.

"Because you're not a vex." Scar answers, as if it should be obvious.

"Now that can't be right." Grian's frown has an irritable edge to it.

Scar groans and rolls his eyes, throwing his head back for good measure. "Grian, come on." He flops his head back down to look sidelong at Grian. Which really, is entirely unnecessary.

"You come on, Scar." Grian clicks impatiently at him.

"Listen to yourself. I miss your chirpy-chirps." Scar pouts, pulling his fingers back out of Cub's mouth with the faintest of pop sounds. He dries them on Cub's labcoat, as if it were nothing.

Cub's eyelids dip and flutter slowly, his mind clearly a million miles away from the conversation.

"I chirp just fine." Grian rolls his eyes then clicks- He clicks. Grian click- He stops and frowns.

"See?" Scar sounds unusually unhappy to be right. No, not right. Temporarily under the impression of being right.

"Shut up." Grian touches his own throat, probing with fingertips and magic. He takes a slow breath in, and then with a very deliberate and conscientious slowness, Grian chirps smugness.

Scar slumps onto Cub's shoulder, boneless in what looks to be relief. Such an overblown reaction again. "Okay. Okay good. That's good. I haven't- You can. Good."

"Of course I could, like I'd let you stop me." Grian rolls his eyes.

Scar gets a moment of glint in his eyes, before shaking his head. "Wow I hate being responsible. How does Cleo do this every day?"

"They don't." Grian supplies.

"Oh, that makes sense." Scar nods. "Anyway, that's good to know, that you can shake that off yourself. Maybe this will just like. Wear off on its own, you know? And we can just kinda. Enjoy it in the meantime, yeah?"

"I'm doing just fine with enjoying life, you're the one twisting yourself up in knots about nothing." Grian shrugs. Whatever, he's a Vex right now, that doesn't really worry him. His brain doesn't feel like it's trying to cage match a bobcat over every little thing he's doing with regard to his Vex at the moment, so Grian's taking the victory where he can.

"If you really think it's nothing..." Scar sounds rather willing to be convinced.

"It's better than the past few days have been, I'll give you that." Grian turns away, looking for a good place to settle the crystal in their pillows and blankets. There's really no way to make something so large and hard comfortable, but he does his best.

"Been a rough one, huh? Yeah, I guess it has. Been a year of a week." Scar chuckles.

"Mmf." Grian scoots himself over and flops across Scar and Cub's laps both, now that his hands are free. "Thought I knew a lot about you." He murmurs, sullen.

"Compared to anyone but this guy." Scar jerks a thumb at Cub, scooting more to lean properly into Cub's side, and giving Grian a better angle of lap to sprawl over. "You did. You do."

Grian steals Scar's hand, holding it in greedy claws. "I want all of it. All of you." He presses little kisses to each one of Scar's joints and knuckles. Each one of his scars.

"Do you want it enough to give all of you?" Scar asks, tone soft and slipping toward fae.

"I-" Grian's words are cut short by Scar's finger pressed to his lips.

"I want you to truly think about it, Grian. You aren't fully bonded to us. You could still walk away now."

Grian makes a protesting noise.

"I mean it! If you agree to this, that's it. I could do anything with you. I could take Cub away from you. Or I could make you set yourself on fire for my amusement. I could clip your flight feathers and ban you from ever touching an elytra. Anything. Everything. So don't answer me now."

A growl works its way loose of Grian at the thoughts of having his Vex taken from him. He won't- But would Scar? Can he trust Scar not to? Displeased with the weight of those questions, Grian presses his face into Scar's stomach.

"I'll ask you again later, and I want to know that you truly, wholly mean the answer you give me. With all of your self." Scar rubs Grian's back, still allowing Grian to clutch his other hand. "Until then, rest."

Grian shakes out his wings, then tucks them close to his back. It's more comfortable while laying here, he thinks. "Jus' woke up." Grian complains.

"Then indulge in being a little lazy." Scar winks.

"Mm, nah, that's your job." Grian sticks out his tongue, only pulling it back in so Scar can't boop the tip of it. He giggles at Scar's pout.

Grian doesn't want to sleep anyway, he wants to appreciate this. Seeing them now really throws it into stark relief for him, how uncomfortable the pair have been with him the past few days. Grian wants to soak in the way they've relaxed back to being weird and silly, and he can't do that during a nap.

"My only job right now is making sure Cub doesn't steal your not-so-little pretty-shiny." Scar says.

"He can't have it! It's for our nest." Grian huffs, sternly. He pokes at Cub a few times, before relenting a little. "If he's so greedy for it, I'll make another one just for him."

Scar's delighted and scandalized little gasp comes at the same time as Cub crumpling to fold limply over on Grian's legs. Hm. Warm.

Scar pokes Cub's cheek a couple times, to no response. "Wow, I think you short circuited him. Neat!"

"Serves him right." Grian says loftily. He's decided he likes the Cub blanket on his legs.

"I'll have to show you some tricks for shaping how they form, later. Oh we're gonna have so much fun with this!" Scar bounces under Grian, jostling him.

Grian hums, then bites Scar's leg. Too Movement. No more of that.

Somehow, this has the exact opposite effect, resulting in Scar jolting Grian right off his lap. Grian crankily flaps his wings, clicking discontent.

"Warn a fella, hey?" Scar takes advantage of everyone's disparate sprawls to instead rearrange them all.

"Nah. You get what you get." Grian grins toothily. He tucks happily into Cub's side, after Scar lays out Cub, with Scar settling in behind Grian.

"What if I get this?" Scar asks, entirely too much eagerness in his to-

Grian's brain turns into melting static.

Everything hangs in suspended sensations, the clamping of sharp pressure over some part inside of him that he doesn't understand how to feel. Pinpricks in the fabric of his soul, letting shivering purple light through.

And then it stops, his whole brain unceremoniously schlorped back onto something resembling working order inside his head. Scar's face pressed to his back, nuzzling.

"You're good, you're safe. You taste so good, my pretty." Scar purrs sweet words to him.

Grian makes a sound that is almost word-shaped, but isn't actually any kind of a word. His tongue knows how to make sounds but stringing them together coherently takes a couple minutes to come back into focus.

Thankfully, Scar seems perfectly content to nuzzle and purr soothing noise to him in the meantime, not giving Grian's brain jar any further shakes.

"Sneaking dessert early without me?" Cub's voice, amused.

"No, I would never." Scar wheedles, pressing a hand to his heart. Grian can feel Scar's arm tucked up between them.

"Not that you'd admit to, sure." Grian teases.

Scar muffles dramatic wounded noises into Grian's back, groaning and whining pitifully.

Which only makes Grian curl his wings backward-inward to buffet Scar with them. He giggles about the way it makes Scar stutter and sputter.

While Grian was distracted with that, Cub had taken the moment to roll to face him. Which Grian discovers when he feels careful claws card through his hair.

Something not-forgotten in the back of Grian's thoughts croons sweet contentedness at the sensation. He lets himself relax under the touch, something warm even beyond Scar's body heat curling up his spine at the thought of Cub willingly preening him.

Simply natural, really, for Grian to then smooth his hands down over Cub's labcoat. It may be silly to smooth the wrinkles out of it while they're laying here like this, but the motion brings little peeps of bubbling joy to Grian's lips, and that's enough reason for him right now. Being accepted by his pack, being preened by his flock, being attended to by his vex. Whatever tangle of instincts now lives in the back halls of Grian's mind, this scratches all of them pleasantly.

One of Cub's hands slides down to cup Grian's cheek. "Has Scar been keeping this cute side of you to himself all this time?"

"More like he's trying to advertise-" Grian protests, glad for the cool feeling of Cub's hand on his all-too-warm cheek.

"I've got a spare Cuteguy outfit." Scar chimes in, bright and cheerful.

"Why." Grian deadpans.

"You never know when you'll need the power of cuteness to save the day!" Scar eagerly answers.

"I've got plenty of that power on my own, thanks much." Grian rolls his eyes.

Cub chuckles, rubbing the pad of his thumb back and forth over Grian's cheek. "Cute, tasty, and powerful. Is there anything you don't do well?"

"Nope. Suffer my perfection." Grian straightens his spine, a hint of haughty note creeping into his tone.

"I might do that. I just might do that." Cub says, nodding slightly.

And what is Grian supposed to say to that? No, better to just drag Cub close and tuck his face in Cub's shoulder, rubbing Cub's hand between his cheek and Cub's shoulder. Like food for a starving chasm of want hiding inside of Grian.

Scar snugs his arms steady around Grian's waist, pressing light little kisses to the back of his neck. The whole situation feels illegal, somehow. Something Grian isn't supposed to have. Something he wants. How badly? How much is he willing to risk for this?

Pebbles and sand clattering over a cliff's edge. The sky spread out below him, bright and welcoming.

Is there something about those long drops that calls his name? Something in the never quite knowing if he'll get his wings out soon enough, strong enough, to catch himself?

Something illicit in the thrill of binding his own wings and seeing if someone else will catch him?

Cub eventually works his arm out from where it had been pinned between himself and Grian. Grian reluctantly but willingly lets it go. He still has Cub's shoulder to nuzzle into, after all. Soft fabric, cool pillow. "Good." Grian murmurs.

Maybe Scar was on to something, not that Grian plans to say it. His slide down into drowsiness says enough unto itself already. The urge to just drift here, in their safe den, in their safe nest. The familiarly warm current of Scar's breath over the back of his neck, and the comforting brush of Cub's fingers returning to his hair.

Sleep claims Grian with a gentle embrace.

[tantei-chan01]

The Giver. Mute Branch Au

Notebook talking has this "-"

Sign language is this "*"

Xxx

A scrapbook opens as Poppy narrates, "Years ago, on the night of the Harvest Moon, a mysterious troll paid our village a visit and delivered gifts to everyone becoming known only as ... the Giver." On the page, a little troll in a hoodie leaves presents in the pods, stopping to pose in front of the moon. "Every Harvest Moon since has been the same, leaving presents under the veil of night."

The little trolls in the pod leave for a moment, missing the Giver leaving them a gift, "Yay!"

"Which everyone loves...." Poppy suddenly shuts the book, "but it drives ME completely insane!"

A crowd of trolls looked at her in confusion, chattering amongst themselves.

"When you give a gift, you’re supposed to receive a thank-you card. It’s what separates us from the animals. And this Troll is making a mockery of the whole thing. " Frustrated, Poppy throws the book on the mushroom, Smidge behind her with a stern look. "Ugh!"

The crowd gasped, Biggie covering Mr. Dinkles eyes. Branch tapped a dazed Suki's shoulder and held up his brown notebook, "- I think I might missed a step from being in my bunker the last decade. Does she do this every year?-"

Suki shrugged, "Pretty much. I just nap through it. Thank goodness, I learned to sleep with my eyes open, right?" She snores with her eyes open, making Branch gasp and drop his notebook.

"Well, listen up, Giver. You may have escaped me in the past, but this year I’ve rigged the entire village with hidden alarms." She points to Smidge, who pulls a conveniently placed vine. Red and blue bell like flowers beging blaring out an alarm. "Which means I will catch you and will get what’s coming to you."

Smidge pulls out a purple bat (which I hope is actually rubber) with an eager face. "Yeah!"

"This!" Poppy pulls out a blue thank-you card and opens it to show off her card, making skills

Smidge nervously laughs and hides the bat. "Uh, yeah, that."

"So this is your last chance. Come forward now and take your thank-you like a troll." The crowd looks at each other, but no one comes forward. Poppy then hears a certain breathing pattern that she definitely recognizes as laughter, "Something funny, Branch?"

Branch signs, "*Yes, you.*"

"Hm…"

"*I realize I’m new to all this, but if “the Gifter” wants to remain anonymous, shouldn’t we respect that?*"

Biggie excitedly asks, "OH! Can I try translating?" Branch nods to the gentle giant. "Okay, you said something about making cookies for the Giver."

"Meep."

Biggie looks at Mr. Dinkles, "What do you mean I'm not even close?"

Reminding herself to help Biggie with translating later, Poppy responds as Smidge seems to be counting trolls, "It’s “the Giver.” If you’re gonna be a know-it-all, get your facts straight."

"Uh, Poppy, just did a hair count, and Satin and Chenille are absent."

Poppy quickly turns to her, "Absent?! On the Harvest Moon?" Her face switched to determination, "Let’s go, Smidge. We’ve got a new lead suspect."

"Uh, there’s two of them."

"We’ve got a new lead of suspects. "

Xxx

The scene switches to Satin and Chenille's pod, only to reveal Satin sick in bed.

Satin sneezes and then blows her nose into a tissue, tossing it into a pile next to her. "I love being sick. It’s like my body has a whole other side to its personality for me to get to know. Don’t you think?" She turns to Chenille, who's wearing a gas mask and carrying a spray bottle.

Chenille sprays at her twin, "Back, vessel of pestilence! Back!"

Poppy and Smidge sneakily walk up to the window, "You ready to bust these gift-giving punks, Poppy?"

Poppy pulls out the card and preps it. "Locked and loaded." She hears crunching and sees Branch sitting in a chair, eating a bag of popcorn. "Ugh! Don’t you have better things to do?"

"*Than watch you make a fool of yourself? (munches) Please, I cleared my whole day.*"

Smidge looks at him, "OK he definitely said something about you embarrassing yourself." Branch tapped his nose twice. "Cool." She smiles, then turns her attention back to Poppy, "Ignore him. How do we get ‘em to talk?"

"By using the oldest Troll interrogating technique there is-good cop, great cop."

Smidge uses her baseball bat to shine light into Satin and Chenille’s pod. Directing it to face Satin.

She flinches for a moment and then relaxes into it. "Ah! Ooh, that sunshine feels so good."

Poppy leans in close to the sick troll. "You know what else is good?" She takes out a cookie. "Cookies. And you can have them if you tell me what I want to know."

"Ooh."

She pushes the cookie closer, "Or if you don’t, either way."

Satin smiles. "That’s so nice."

"Oh, yeah?!" Smidge pulls a cake from behind and lightly slams it on the table, "I’ll give you an entire cake, no strings attached!"

Satin feels a bit conflicted, "Wow, I feel like I should at least tell you something."

Poppy gets right in her face, "Well, I’ll give you a back rub."

"I’ll write you a haiku."

Poppy bangs on the table, "I’ll be your best friend!"

Satin holds her head in what seems to be guilt, "OK. OK. I confess. I color my hair! I’m not a natural purple." She then points to her sister as the lights come on. "Neither is Chenille."

Chenille's eye twitches in disbelief, "You...are dead to me."

"Hold on. So you’re not the Giver?"

An unfamiliar laugh distracts the four, turning to see Branch leaning on his chair laughing, "*Bravo, Poppy. You really broke the case of the purple hair wide open.*"

Poppy growls, feeling a little conflicted, seeing as he'sactually laughing for others to hear. Chenille comments, "I only understood purple hair. "

Satin smiles a little, "Well, it's nice to actuallyhearhim laugh. "

Branch leans to far bach on the chair, knocking down the curtains, revealing what appears to be red wrapping papper. Poppy gasps, "That looks like the paper the Giver uses." She turns back to Satin and Chenille. "Explain yourself… ves!"

"That paper’s not ours."

Chenille explains, "Yeah, it’s so five years ago. Do you think we’ve been living under a rock?"

Smidge licks the paper, "It’s definitely the same-quality pulp, hand-cut edging," She then points to a logo, "and look at the insignia. It comes from Sky Toronto’s Party Shop.

Poppy turns back to the twins, "Ladies, I really hope Sky doesn’t tell me you’re the Giver, or so help me, I’ll thank you like you’ve never been thanked before." She walks backward and arrives at Sky Toronto’s Party Shop.

She walks with the older glitter troll as he gives out orders, "It’s crunch time, people. I need 200 piñata ideas on my desk by tomorrow morning." The workers walk away. "Queen Poppy, I’m honored, yada, yada, but let’s cut to the chase. There are 18 parties, 12 soirees, and at least five shindigs on an average Troll night all supplied by me, Sky Toronto." He snaps his fingers. "So time is glitter."

She holds out the wrapping paper, "Do you recognize this?"

Sky stops as a worker approaches him, "Pause."

The worker holds out the confetti samples, "Mr. Toronto, the new confetti designs for your approval, sir."

Sky throws each sample to inspect, "Pass, hard pass, too cliché." He stops at the fourth one. "Ah, that one. That’s the confetti of the now." The worker leaves, and he turns back to Poppy, "Yes, I recognize it. Not popular, except with one troll who picks up about 100 rolls once a year."

Poppy gasps, "Once a year?!"

Another worker walks up to him with a disco ball in her hand, "Hey, S.T. The boys in decorations just cooked up this new color. Thoughts?"

Sky thinks for a moment, "Hm. Not bad. But disco balls aren’t testing well. How about disco… cubes?" The worker gasps and walks backward, her mind blown.

Poppy tries to get his attention, "Let me get this straight. The Troll who gets this paper, you’ve seen him in person?"

"Many times." An explosion catches his attention and sees some workers running from it. "Don’t mind that. Accident in the trick candle division. We try to put it out, but every time we do…" Trolls bring in water and fire extinguishers to put it out, but the explosion gets worse. "I should ask Branch to see if he can come up with something to put it out."

Later, Smidge is getting a cup of water in the meeting room while Poppy is talking to Sky with Harper sitting with him.

"Okay. Just give Harper here a physical description."

Sky begins the description, "Body of a warrior. Earlobes of a poet. Butt that shimmers like the night sky. We done here?"

Poppy looks at the picture groans, "Describe the mystery Troll, not yourself." She turns Harper's clipboard to reveal a drawing of Sky.

Sky takes the picture Harper drew and hands it over to one of the workers, "My mistake. But I’m keeping that. The troll had dark eyes, a shrouded face, and hair the color of mystery."

Harper shows Poppy a picture of the Giver. Which is only a troll in a hoody wearing sunglasses. Poppy stammers, "What is this?! This isn’t helpful."

"I said I saw the Giver, not that it’d be helpful."

Harper takes back the picture she drew, "Wait. I’ve seen this Troll."

Xxx

Later that night, Harper Poppy and Smidge go to find the Giver, "I saw the Troll down here this morning… over by the tree roots." She points to a large tree. They continue to walk as the fog clears. Poppy gasps to see several gifts ready to be delivered.

Smidge is a bit suspicious, "Uh…"

Poppy looks on in awe, "The Giver’s stash. They’ll have to come back here before delivering tonight’ gifts. This is where we make out stand." As she tries to walk away, she hears squishing sounds.

Smidge looks up at her, unimpressed, "Uh, we’re standing in mud."

The royal moves away from the mud, "This is where we make our stand.

An owl is heard hooting in the background. Poppy and Smidge are hiding in the bushes. "It’s just a matter of time. Eventually, our Mystery Troll will have to come back to get the gifts, only to find…"

Smidge pops out of some tall grass, "Whammo! It’s a stakeout, boy!"

"Oh, yeah!" The two hear rusting. "That’s the Giver now!" The troll appears and seems to go to the gifts. "Gotcha!" She pulls a vine, and many flowers pop up. They shoot balls and streamers along with a thank-you banner.

Spiders jump down and sing, "Thank you!"

Poppy runs out of her hiding place, "Ha! I thanked you! I thanked you so hard! Yes, yes, yes!" She turns on a flashlight and pulls away the flowers. "Now, what do you have to say for yourself?!" The flowers reveal that it was only Cooper.

Cooper gives them a clueless smile, "You’re welcome."

Poppy is shocked, "All these years, it was you? W-why did you - When did you…" She puts her flashlight away and tries to calm down. "You know what? Just start from the beginning and tell me everything."

Cooper looks at her, "Everything? Okay. Darkness. Then I emerge from the womb, wearing this very hat."

(5 minutes later)

"And then the theme of my 7th birthday party was invisible friends. It was very well attended."

(2 hours later)

"And then, after years of hard work at graduation, my classmates finally turned to me and said, “You’re not in class.” (chuckles) We laughed."

(Another 2 hours later)

"And then some weird Troll told me if I came out here, I’d find some empty boxed for my empty-box collection. And then you trapped me and said, “Tell me everything.” And then I said, “Darkness. I emerge from the womb”-

Poppy stops him, "Whoa! Just answer this question." She takes out the picture Harper drew. "Are you or are you not the Giver?"

He taps the picture, "That’s the weird Troll that sent me here."

They looked at him in disbelief, "The Giver sent you here?"

A random green spider set down a package and pulled back up. "Special delivery from the Giver."

Smidge opens the present and reveals a letter. “Dear Poppy, I’m sorry. This was the only way. From, the Giver.”

"It’s a setup. The Giver wanted us to come here!" She hears the alarms sounding in Troll Village.

Smidge looks over the horizon, "Oh, my Guh."

Poppy quickly runs toward the village, "Halt! Halt in the name of gratitude!" She looks up at the pods to hear the Trolls cheering because their gifts were delivered. She falls to her knees, leans up towards the sky, and exclaims, "THANK YOU!"

The Trolls are celebrating their given gifts while a sad Poppy sits at her pod. "The giver won, Smidge." She opens her card. "No point in holding on to this anymore. She rips the card to pieces.

Smidge tries to cheer her up, "Come on, Poppy, at least you got a present, huh?"

Poppy takes the present, "A horribly wrapped present. Who uses so much tape?" She sighs, "Chenille was right. This Troll really must live… under a rock! (gasps) Trolly-moley. I know who it is!" She gives her present to Smidge and runs. Then she comes back to pick up her destroyed card. "I really regret doing that." Smidge takes both presents to her pod for safe keeping.

Xxxxx

We return to the tree to see a dark figure heading towards a cave hidden amongst the vines, "Hold it right there, Giver."

Poppy walks towards the figure and grabs their shoulders, "It’s time for you to be finally thanked." She turned them around to reveal, "(gasps) Mr. Dinkles!"

The hoodie falls off to reveal the cute little glow worm on top of some other pets. Smidge pops out of the bushes, "Wait, so it wasn't Branch?"

Poppy shakes her head, "If you're here, then who's with Biggie?"

Xxxx

We quickly go back to the village in Biggie's pod, "Isn't this wonderful, Mr. Dinkles?" He pulls out a brand new camera, showing it to a doll that looks like Mr. Dinkles, with a poorly hidden tape recorder on its back. "Meep"

Xxxx

"So if all of you are the Giver, why keep it a secret?" Poppy asks.

"Meep."

Poppy cooed, "Aww, you all just wanted to show your love for everyone by doing something nice."

Smidge pulls out a present from her hair, "Well, that explains the massive amount of tape. Must be pretty hard to wrap without thumbs."

Poppy cleared her throat, "OK guys, I still want to thank all of you, so how about you all come to my pod tomorrow for some special treats?"

The pets all agreed and waved goodbye to the two trolls as they walked back to the village. Once they were gone, they quickly ran into the cave. Dinkles flipped over a rock to reveal a pass code lock, he typed in some numbers, and a hatch opened. They all jumped in, landing in a very familiar living room.

"Meep." Well done, everyone. They all turned to see Branch taking off a dark hoodie and special night vision sunglasses. "Meep." She doesn't suspect a thing.

"Meep." Correct, Quiet One. Now, I believe we are to receive our payment.

Branch smiles and pulls out his special, pet friendly, triple fudge brownies. As he watches them enjoy the treat, he laughs silently, 'Sorry Poppy, but this is one secret I'd like to keep to myself for a while.

[sunny-speaks]

Nerd (RIVAL!DACTED x Reader)

First Ren Fic of the new year let's go guys!

Lol, life's been pretty busy and I haven't had as much time to write as I wanted but I guess I have a new aspiration for 2024! Enjoy the fic!

Characters: [REDACTED]/[RIVAL-DACTED] from @14dayswithyou x reader !!

Quick summary: library date??? with [RIVAL-DACTED]??? even though hes a pain to you??? more likely than you would think-

--

You groaned into your hand, head starting to slump into the crook of your arm.

You loved academic validation and you were all for getting good grades and all, but…

Studying?

Always found a way to bore you somehow.

You were painfully poring over the midterm research that your postsecondary teacher and lecturer had assigned for your ‘Psychology in Modern Media’ course.

Sure, it was fun and all. But the exams were sooo boring and the prep material?

God awfully boring.

You took a sip from the drink that you got from the nearby coffee store, twirling the near-empty cup in your hand as you wistfully sighed.

High school was something you’d taken for granted, huh… Man, you'd kill to do those stupid assigned readings right now.

You could feel some form of fatigue taking over your body riiight before… “Angel? What are you doing here~?”

That cotton candy bastard showed up.

Ugh! You couldn’t get enough of him! (In a negative sense! In a negative sense!)

He was everywhere!

You spotted his annoyingly attractive face in that dumb coffee shop earlier when he winked at you and five people behind you nearly fainted.

That ridiculously hot face of his was giving you unwanted and unwarranted troubles! You wanted him gone.

He pulled up in that ridiculously tight black bodysuit and that white slasher hoodie of his with too many belts and buckles to keep track of. The same unfortunately went for his pants.

It’s like he was trying to show himself off! Ugh, he knew he was hot shit, didn’t he?!

You glared at him, frustration seeping through, “What do you want now, [REDACTED]? If it’s not your head on a spike, I’m good.”

He raised his arms in mock surrender, “Woah, what’s got you so worked up, Angel? Is it lonely at the top?” He’d let you top him in anything if you wanted… In class, in bed, whatever…

He looked so stupidly attractive with the way his hair framed his face, the way his grin sat perfectly on all his features, the little way his eyebrows creas—

“Ugh, just, shut up, will you?” You scoffed out at him then winced at your volume.

That was rude. Even for you.

You sighed, exasperated, slight guilt remnants on your face. “I- My bad… Just the… exam prep is confusing. And I don’t get it.”

He gave an inquisitive tilt of his head, “Which questions?” He slid into the seat beside you, leaning close enough for you to smell the faint traces of black coffee lingering on your clothes from your previous encounter. You tried to erase that ugly feeling when you saw him smile at a pair of girls from earlier.

(…Does he always smile like that to others?)

(Ha, yeah. Not like you’re anyone special…)

He smiled softly to himself as his breaths got deeper, trying to intake as much of your natural scent as he could. That was something he would always want more of...

(Those pathetic leeches from earlier left their stupid perfume lingering on his clothes… the only way to rid him of it was to sit closer to youuu <3)

Somehow, you were too preoccupied with your stupidly annoying questions to even berate his presence this time.

And if you were a little distracted by how close he was, that was no one else's business.

They’d been giving you way too much trouble for the past… half-hour or so.

You picked up the question sheet and pointed at the parts you didn’t understand, “So, I got what a sociopath should look like and covert signs in that dumb show I had to watch, and I know the ways to find sociopathic responses in someone, but how does that correlate with these random non-associated symptoms portrayed by this character?!”

You involuntarily leaned closer to him as you stabbed the piece of paper with an accusatory finger, frustrated. “I swear! The teacher hates me or something!”

[REDACTED] wouldn’t let it slide if the teacher actually hated you though… He’d ruin her reputation amongst colleagues while keeping her isolated from social media. They’d make all family members repulsed of her and willing to not contact her. And then they’d get her fired from her job. If she ever tried to get another job, he could easily fabricate a couple pieces of incriminating evidence from one of his crime scenes…

But he knew you would find it hot that he's confident in himself and that he's witty. So he wouldn't explain his plan just like that.

He grinned, a condescending quip on the tip of his tongue. “Maybe it’s just because I’m a hotter student.”

You spluttered in indignance, bewildered how he even thought of that. Was he insinuating he was hotter than you?! He might be right then... “Wh-What?! Asshole! Ugh!” Just as you were about to get up, he added onto his comment.

“Also, the answer’s right there.” He twirled a pen with his fingers, softly whistling to himself.

“Huh?!” You couldn’t believe it.

But he was right...?

You read the part he had underlined and circled and… the answer was there. That's... weird.

You didn’t have a clue on how you missed it! It drove you insane for so long, and for what?! For that stupidly sexy jerk to find it in one go?

You groaned reluctantly at the help. Maybe he wasn’t just… y’know, a piece of ass all the time... or a jerk. Maybe he was… kinda smart and nice. “Fine. Good job, I guess, asshat… Why’re you even here, god knows you don’t need to study. Like. Ever.” You eye up and down at his visible muscles that his outfit strains to keep compressed.

He pouts a little at the accusation. “Mm, even I study, angel. Might be hard to believe with a physique as good as mine, but I do take time to work on my studies.”

“Sure. And it was totally by chance that we saw each other at the coffee shop down the street. And that you study at the same library as me.” You drawled on, naming one coincidence after the other until [REDACTED] was subjected to some form of abject embarrassment. "What're you, a copycat?"

You paid that much attention to him? No one else… Just him?

Ooh, his heartbeat practically played hopscotch in his chest at the revelation! But no! He must remain calm and mean! Only for you!

They grinned slyly at you. “Angel, please. I would never even try to copy you. So it must’ve been your idea to imitate me, huh? Bet you stalk me or something,” He lied through their teeth, in the pathological way they were used to. They’d be lying if it wasn’t incredibly ironic.

“Hah, you wish.” Your nose twitched in annoyance. God, he was far too good at riling you up. “Whatever, what’s the answer to…”

And the two of you spent the rest of the day, bickering over answers.

Maybe [REDACTED] had earned a bit, a fraction, of your gratitude.

Maybe you were starting to like them a bit more.

But he’d never know that, it’s not like he reads your phone notes or messages or has cameras in your house.

…Right?

[gayamulet]

Art drawling

Its sort of wild how art came to a screeching halt as soon as I got a full time job. And yeah, there's a bunch of corresponding factors- a physically demanding full time job crammed into 4 days, that I'm older and so, working with less energy, sleeping a lot more (seriously wtf), and compartmentalizing time much more. Freestanding time & energy is less and has to be planned out and those times left open for the chance to 'do art' in whatever capacity I can do not equate to 100% output success rates like day job hours. I can go in with a 'fuck yeah, art night!' frame of mind and come out pretty unfulfilled (again, with the awareness that fulfillment is not the goal).

And of course recognizing that many more mundane tasks fulfill a bigger chunk of that makemakemake drive- meal prep, cleaning (ugh), plant care, yard care, mending work clothes, etc. And you know, the more annoying factor. A lot of that creative energy also gets fulfilled by mundane tasks at work- animal care, walking, cleaning (yes that includes complicated dogshit catastrophes), training, behavior data collection & entry. I come out of it of course physically tired because it is hard messy work, but it also just has me choosing/seeking artistic outlets less, and not feeling too bad about it introspectively. Its make-drive going someplace useful, through whatever framework my brain has established as useful, idk.

All this brings me to my actual point of frustration with art-making, that when I have time and there is a bit of planning involved (I have exactly one con art show and local tiny art market to work toward this summer) and I sit down and I casually think about what I'd like, for me, for these events with no pressure and, again, for me, that

I just don't want to make myself anything. That it already exists, that there are endless iterations of whatever visual landscape I'm riffing through at any given time, that it doesn't need physical manifestation, that it no longer serves me creatively, that I don't care. I can dangle a glittery new process (ink, linocut, etc) like a its-about-the-process carrot in front of me, but suddenly I don't like carrots. And it feels, less born of a dead creative drive, and more like...an extension of what I don't want from other people- junk. That I do not want to generate more junk for myself. Does this make sense? I think it sounds more heartless than I mean for it to. Like unless there is very defined intention, then I don't need it? I cannot think of a way to explain it that doesn't sound protestant as fuck. Maybe I've hit some critical mass of art intake overload thanks to the internet, maybe this is just what creativity looks like now. Tho, there's enough of a useful task involved that freelance artwork is still hopping along- much more slowly than before for all the regular reasons listed above- but otherwise its fine. I still get that pleasant little brain buzz.

I get these surges of frustration, that I've fallen off from working toward some ultra-personalized visual landscape goal like I used to, that once I do I'll be perceived as human again, or something. Like this is still some pinnacle of artistic merit, in some mythical corner of my brain. But those surges are much less frequent than they used to be, and fizzle out quickly. And idk. Art isn't going anywhere in my life, but where it comes from and how I'm making and shaping things is changing again. I guess?

*I DO, however, wanna make more cardboard masks. So bad.

**I know I kept this in a pretty strict work vs art vacuum, without acknowledging other uses of time, including other hobbies which of course also accounts for creative/emotional outlet but you know what I'm gonna stop here before you guys figure out I'm actually a robot

[donghoonie-3]

Imagine Hoon getting home all frustrated from work. He'd find you all busy and he'd walk straight towards you and probably just kiss you roughly without saying anything, then he'd pull your pants and underwear down as he starts to finger you, prepping you to take his big cock. Then he'd bend you over the nearest surface and push his cock inside you as he starts to pound harder into you, fucking all his frustrations into you as he relaxes hearing your sweet moans. Then he'd start pulling on your hair as he keeps thrusting into you and dirty talking into your ear until you cum all over his cock. He'd keep pounding into you, overstimulating you until he cums inside you, filling you up to the brim. Then he'd take you to the bed or couch so you both can cuddle and makeout for a while as he whispers sweet words against your lips.

CW// Consensual free use, breeding kink

The way I'd let him do anything to me ugh 😭😭 you're just about to welcome him home and then he cuts you off with a rough kiss <3 you'd know right away what he wants and you'd be more than happy to give it to him. Your moans would only make him thrust harder into you, wanting to hear more <3 he loves your pretty sounds so much, it drives him insane. "Gonna fucking breed you like this" he'd say that while he'd be pounding into you from the back with your body bent over the table or counter top. If you show any signs of liking what he said he'd say "you like that don't you? You want me to fill you up with my cum hm? Fucking cum slut" he'd thrust harder and slap you ass when he says the last thing skdbsj. Ugh the hair pulling 🥴 he'd pull at your hair to lift you head up a bit and maybe put his fingers into your mouth because you're being too loud <33. The aftercare afterwords :( he'd make sure you're okay <3 he would never want to hurt you so he'd be checking up on you ever now and then for a couple of hours <33. If you can't walk he'd carry you to your bed/couch after cleaning you up <3. He'd tell you how well you took him and how much he loves you 🥺 he'd be the sweetest during aftercare <33 he wouldn't want to leave your side just incase something happens 😭💖

[dreamsinfiction]

Mar 2025 (aka when I felt myself being split into two)

This month was strange.

On one hand, I was handling a work crisis and trying to deal with a very difficult reportee. On the other, it was Ramadan which was a very much needed break from normal life and reminded me that while this life is difficult, there's still much to live and continue hoping for.

Work troubles

a. Crisis

The crisis blew up in the first week of Ramadan. I can't really get much into it here since there's now been a court gag order to protect the minor (if we meet IRL, feel free to ask haha). But it was...huge. Like potential riots-on-the-street huge. There was a lot of scrambling, trying to ascertain facts of the case, while anticipating the possible reactions from both sides and mitigating them where we can. Even though what I'm doing is just comms and am one step removed from the case on the ground, I was still quite personally impacted by it. The first time I felt this way since starting service.

I guessed it weighed heavy on my heart because it involved a family/child from my community and the whole situation caused a lot of emotional pain for both sides. If I take the long-term view, I know the outcome was the best, the child will hopefully grow up well being cared for in the religion. But, you can't help but wonder if things would have been vastly different if the other side won the case. She would definitely have more opportunities than where she is now.

It's no surprise that I lost some sleep over it, not just cos of the round-the-clock comms prepping and working with other agencies but because of my own conflicting feelings over it.

After ruminating over it for a while, I took solace in one of my favourite verses from the Quran:

لَا يُكَلِّفُ اللَّهُ نَفْسًا إِلَّا وُسْعَهَا

"God doesn't burden a soul beyond that it can bear." (Quran 2: 286)

If everything is pre-destined (with our effort of course), then surely whatever challenges lie in each of our lives is within our capacity to bear and overcome? I can only pray that the family will treat her to the best of their ability.

b. Terribly incompetent colleague

I think I've alluded to XE, this colleague of mine, a few times on here. Honest to God, she is next level incompetent and I am not talking about her disability. Every day she makes me so frustrated and I don't know why my bosses are giving her so much benefit of the doubt when time and time again she has shown to be so lacking. I have a feeling it's exactly because she has a disability that they are being so lenient.

But as F would say it, "It's not about disability at this point, it's inability." 💀

A shortlist of the things she has done (or rather unable to do):

i. Assigned a simple event and patron assessment on two different occasions, messed both up despite my very clear guidance and email (with attachments to multiple past submissions as a reference guide), I was called in to clean up and put it up to bigger bosses instead. The latest one made me so annoyed because I was already having so many things to do, but because she messed up my boss had me to reverse gear and clean it up for her. What made things worse was when my boss and I were working on the shared doc, XE just went into the doc, pressed anyhowly and caused the entire statement to be in a weird order (eg. Para 2 went into the middle of Para 1 etc). When I confronted her to not touch anything in the doc and my boss added that she could see XE's cursor in two different places in the doc, XE could only say "Oh but I can't be in two places at once". Yeah, no shit Sherlock ugh.

ii. On the rare occasion that she does something, she will immediately jump on you to clear whatever she sent over. Woman, breathe please. Nobody is waiting around for your work and pounce on it to clear once it's in. Also, the quality of work is...very questionable. She's supposedly graduated in English Literature at uni but her command of the language is very secondary school-level and long-winded. My pet peeve is when things are unnecessarily long - if you can say it in as little words as possible, then please use your brain cells to do so, so that we don't waste anyone's time. Things came to a head last week on Mon when she was chasing my boss to clear this piece of work, but actually she already did on Fri before she went on her PM leave. I knew that my boss alr replied to her on Fri but I left it alone because a) I'm not paid to be her minder / tracking over her work and b) at this point, I need to let my bosses know exactly how aggravating it is to work with her. At the end of the day, they can't say that I haven't tried my best to work with her. She is just unable to do so.

iii. Work issues are fine - they can be resolved with trial and error if you have the right attitude for it. But...no. She hasn't shown any proactivity with the team, she comes in late and leaves early any time she wants (I close one eye on WFO days since she's dependent on her family to send/pick her up but why are you still logging in at 10.30 on WFH days??). Not to mention her sleeping in office habits which my bosses have seen multiple times. I would like to give her the benefit of the doubt that maybe her meds tire her out, but I don't think it has anything to do with it since she's so unremorseful. I still remember how it was her first week with us, we were having our weekly team huddle, and she fell asleep right in front of our big boss. Afterwards she could still have the cheek to say to me: "Did you realise I fell asleep just now in the meeting? I didn't really understand what was going on so I got bored and fell asleep." WTF. It was then that I knew that she is one major red flag and possibly couldn't gel well with the team.

Add on to the fact that she doesn't take care of her health well despite her health issues? She's a vegetarian but the things she eats are very unbalanced/no nutritional value at all (eg. fries and corn for lunch). Plus she knows she's on a strict certain amount of liquid diet but she goes ahead to order BBT and get another soft drink every WFO day. I can't imagine what her diet is like at home.

Case in point....I couldn't brain this message at 8am in the train. Like God, what level of patience do you want me to have 😭

Ramadan 1446H / 2025

Moving on from all the negatives. I know it might not seem like it but I was thankful that Ramadan was here - it gave me pause, reset my thinking and I was consciously trying to be more patient and thoughtful with what I say than in other months. Now that I'm a bit older, I can really appreciate what people mean when they say they look forward to Ramadan and not Hari Raya/Eid now. I mean I still love all my Raya food and the family visits but there's this certain type of peace and the strive to do better in Ramadan that is top-tier.

I had a few goals to maximise the precious month. Disclaimer, not trying to be boastful/riak, I want to document what I did, what I could plan and do better for next Ramadan (if I am given the chance to meet it):

Do the 5 daily prayers on time - Sigh this was tough especially when the crisis was brewing / on WFO days when everything is so overwhelming. But I did make a more concerted effort and it was a 20% improvement!

Read the Quran daily - Met this! In the end, I could only finish about 2.5 chapters but okay progress is progress. Recently downloaded the Quranly app and I love it. Builds the habit to read daily with the little notifications and again, I get great satisfaction seeing the reading streak get extended by another day.

Give to causes daily - ...this was largely a failure. Again, work consumed me leaving me with little brainpower left by the end of the day so most of the time I forgot sigh. I did still do my Friday giving on most weeks (plus Zakat) but okay this can be improved on next year 💪🏼

Terawih prayers at least 2x a week - Met this! So happy to be building up this habit again - it used to be so easy to go to the masjid and do communal prayers together but now life has gotten in the way and it takes real intention and will to even go for a session.

Highlight of Ramadan is definitely going to Al-Iman with F when Mufti was leading the prayers! We originally wanted to go for the NUSMS one in UTown but my period came and work was piling on her end too so it was pure coincidence that I realised Mufti was going to have a session in my neighbourhood mosque. The timing is so uncanny 🥹 Pictured too is my BTS tote bag because my 10pm brain was wondering if it was haram to bring a kpop Christmas bag to the mosque HAHA.

...and then it was Raya! Will touch on that in Apr post because I'm far from done with visiting and I want to have a mini collage of my bajus heh.

2025 goals tracker

i. Journalling

12/31 (Bad month 😮‍💨)

ii. Reading

7 (3 manga volumes, 2 fiction, 1 non-fic, 1 poetry collection - my very first one!)

Highlight: Divine Rivals by Rebecca Ross! This book comes highly raved online and I now know whyyyy. Ross knows how to create this perfect delicious mix of longing and yearning and I was all here for it. On hindsight, the world building could have been more detailed but I was fine with it since the plot gripped me from the get-go. It was so good that halfway through reading it on Libby, I bought a copy on my Kindle because I knew I would want to reread it again someday.

Haven't taken a photo for my bookstagram yet so please appreciate this accurate GIF representation of me after finishing the book.

iii. Being more active

Not much progress updates since it was Ramadan and I was ded trying to do workouts while fasting hahaha. Thankful my PT didn't tekan me too hard too.

Milestones: Squats with a 8kg kettlebell and a 12.5kg barbell; hip thrusts with a 17.5kg bar, linear leg presses with 20kg weight (on top of the 43kg weight of the machine itself)

iv. Saying yes to things that make me uncomfy

Only one for this month which is to write a poetry article for my bookclub - this hasn't been going well though because I haven't had time to properly research and be in the right mindspace to write. Hoping to get back on this in Apr!

Miscellaneous

F1 is back!

...and everything is right with the world again. It's weird to say that 20 guys driving around really fast in practically circles could bring me so much joy but here we are in 2025 hahaha. The Aussie GP was madness with the rain and so many red flags, I think it took out 2 years of my life hahaha. And still I enjoy it every week that F1 is on.

Ending this post with my favourite photo of Carbono to date! Till the next one~

[milgrammaintenance]

12/11/24 11:02pm

Nayo: Mmm...

Daniel: What? Don't tell me you're gonna start inspecting me too?

Nayo: Mmm... Hm. Is it me or are you a bit more manly?

Daniel: I think all of you are far too invested in the premise of this web series having an impact on me. Just because you're told you're wrong or right by a bunch of strangers doesn't mean you'll change. That's not how accountability works!

Nayo: Yep, the manliness level has risen.

Vinya: Yeah, you've definitely gotten a bit more mature.

Daniel: Are you all insane? Seeing things- Is it cabin fever? Are you all losing it?

Nayo: Okay fine how do you think you've changed.

Daniel: I haven't you've just known me longer! We've lived together for months ya know!

Nayo: Vance.

Daniel: Ep-Don't go saying his name out of nowhere are you trying to give me a heart attack!

Vinya: Ah, scratch that you are the same as usual huh.

Daniel: And you miss prep school shut up!

12/11/2024 5:54am

"What the hell is this?" I looked around my room in mild annoyance. Had that weird rabbit brought this in here.

We need your feedback! Please answer this questionnaire to the best of your abilities.

I scratched at my scalp confused. Seriously, a feed back survey??

01. On a scale of one to ten one being the lowest and ten being the highest how would you rate your guard (Nayo Ellis)?

Ugh... Seriously... Um... Why would they wait so long to do this survey. Shouldn't it had happened right after the trial ended. Mm... Well, I don't want to be harsh on Nayo. She did the best with what she was given. I guess... but if I'm too lenient, they'll just think I'm being nice, right?

I should just answer honestly.

I hesitantly filled in the circle for five before erasing it and going with six.

02. Please explain the reasoning behind your previous answers.

I mean... well, it was kind of shit show, wasn't it? She was unprepared, incredibly lenient, and kept letting her judgments be swayed and impacted by others. I really wanted to know her opinion, I guess... And she never really gave it. Honestly, even now, we haven't discussed what happened candidly.

I guess I just hoped for too much here.

That's on me.

03. On a scale of one to ten how much would say your verdict impacted you. One being not at all ten being a great deal I'm losing sleep over it!

Hm... That's complicated. I guess it's bothering me less now. Though at the start I was really bothered.... It was annoying all the assumptions, but when you choose not to talk about something in depth all the people around you can do is assume.

It's irritating being around so many people so casually bad mouthing the folks you care about. I got frustrated and confused by it. Nayo's response, the questions about Vance... I guess I thought I would be totally in the wrong.

It was the clear answer right.

I didn't do enough. The fault is on me... That's what I thought this entire time, and yet... Some people sympathized with me regardless.

It's kind of scary. I'm so used to not being believed to being the problem. I couldn't really comprehend being treated like the one who was wronged for once. It pissed me off a part of me wanted to yell at everyone and go, "You don't know a damn thing about Vance, so shut up." But I couldn't do that. So, I just wound up hurting myself instead.

I wonder if that's really a part of the verdict, though, or just my interpretation of it. Is it wrong for me to agree with the people who found me guilty without even giving it much thought. Without even taking the time to look at any part of the situation.

I can't help thinking that's how I'm meant to get treated after all.

It's always gonna be like that regardless of where I go. It's cruel to act like there are really people who won't see it that way. I mean, my best friend even saw it that way... I let out a weak laugh.

I guess I'd say an eight.

04. Would you say you received the right verdict?

If this is really about murder than no definitely not... But if it is about what I think it's about I don't know.

05. Why did you cooperate so easily or not?

I just read the mood. It's not as though not cooperating would have solved anything. Plus, it gave everyone something to get excited over. As well as a sense of control over the situation. It made it feel like we were progressing towards something instead of just trapped with each other.

Why wouldn't I cooperate? Why would I make a fuss?

Cause everybody to worry about our situation more. It got everyone into a rhythm. I don't really mind being the butt of the joke, the guy everyone hates, or distrusts. But seeing people panicked and scared is difficult if it could distract from that why not play along...

At least, that was my thought process on it.

06. What subject have you gotten along with the most?

Milko most definitely. He's a bit of an airhead but he's considerate of everybody around him and he gets the things I've been through. So I'd been relying on him a good deal.

07. What subject have you gotten along with the least?

God I hope no one gets to read this after I turn it in... But- Nayo. She's a bit the exact opposite of me I guess. She can't read a mood she's messy- Plus she has this idea of how relationships should be that she just won't let up on.

It's like someone picked the most difficult person for me to interact with and threw them in here.

11/20/2024 10:15am

"Is that what friendship is to you?" she asked with that unwavering look of hers.

I held her gaze not backing down, "What else is it meant to be?"

She looked a bit put on the spot, "It- it's when you can rely on someone isn't it? And you talk about the things troubling you."

"That sounds super inconvenient. If you're someone's friend you make their life easier not harder with your baggage."

"Are you really friends with someone if you have to keep doing things to prove your worth?" Her eyes wavered as she looked away from me and at the ground.

Was she pitying me?

"HUHN- Listen here, are you really friends when the only thing you can do is inconvenience the other?!"

She looked about her room agitatedly, "Well, I'd still be your friend if you inconvenienced me. You get that right?"

"Wha-what shut up shut up! That's weird and gross don't say stuff like that! That's not what friendship is at all!"

"Have you ever thought it should be like that. Friends who ditch you as soon as things get a bit hard are the worst! I'm not gonna be that way."

"Ah, you're annoying I'm leaving." she gave me a sad look and I took in her room again, "I'll finish helping you clean first though."

"Yay, you're the best!"

"Sta-stop hugging me!"

08. What subject are you interested in the most?

Oh that's easy Mirelle that lady is weird. Plus her and Milko get along as well as water and oil.

06/12/2024 4:15pm

"Mirelle, hey." Milko said as he waved the girl down, "Hey, hey, help me keep up with our studies. You're still smart, right? Your brain hasn't completely turned to mush, right?"

She elbowed him in the stomach with an annoyed grunt, "Vereze if you don't shut the fuck up! Ugh just hearing your voice is enough to start a migraine don't be happy while speaking to me."

"Ha, ha ah, as harsh as usual. So, that's a yes."

"What part of that sounded like a yes I'd love to." Mirelle glared at him as she spoke.

"Well, when you just said yes, I'd love to. Actually-" he said with a smirk, and her glare wavered.

"You ugh... You're lucky you're tolerable when you aren't asking for something." she conceded before rummaging in her pocket and quickly downing one of the pills she always had on her. I guess they were for migraines.

"Yes, nice! I'll go get the books I ordered then, and we can start." Milko rushed off excitedly, and I sighed.

"Ya know if you don't like him you could just refuse." I said and she rolled her eyes.

"It's not that I hate the guy or anything. It's just when he gets like that, it's annoying." she looked me over for a moment, "You've been hanging around him a lot, huh?"

"What; why are you asking that all of a sudden?" I straightened up on the couch a bit as I looked away.

She chuckled, "I'm not going to lecture you on your tastes or anything. I think you get enough of that from Ina and Nayo... Just try not to turn out like him, okay?"

"Milko is a pretty cool guy though..." I muttered and she laughed.

"Pfft I think you're the first person I've ever heard say that about him!" she said not able to hold back her laughter.

"Wha- what's so funny?" I asked as she gave me a pat on the head.

She gave me a small smile, "Ya know when I saw you here I thought oh no another spoiled brat jock. He's probably gonna be pushy and obnoxious. Like all the other guys around his age. But you've surprised me. I mean calling him cool. Like what can you count all the people you know well on one hand or something?"

"And wha- what if I can? Then what!" I yelled and she laughed harder.

"That would certainly explain why you would think Milko of all people is cool."

"And what do you think about him?" I looked her over as she took a seat beside me.

"I think he's sad and pathetic. He's a pushover. But I guess it's easy for me to think that we go to school together after all." she looked off to the side clearly waiting for him to return, "I've seen him get bullied every day since I entered that school."

"Bullied really?"

"Ahn yeah, heh, don't really know how deep it goes or anything. I try not to get too involved in those things."

Hm...

09. What subject(s) have you become friends with since being here?

Everyone I guess. Though it's pretty difficult finding out anything these guys are interested in. Especially Afra... I don't know what's up with her. Seems like she's not even from this decade at times.

10. What do you think of what you did to be brought here?

I think if it helped someone and the only one hurt was me then that's a really good thing.

[marshmallowgoop]

Your HeiShin posts have been driving me crazy! (In a good way lol) Especially the tags on your GIF's for HeiShin week(?). I LOVE your work and writings, I love the way you interpret things and i love the way you see each character. Augh.

Okay, enough gushing, hear me out! From the first time they met, from butting heads repeatedly and Heiji declaring they are sworn to be detective rivals, to Heiji in episode 521-523 to referring himself to Shinichi's best buddy. That's something so so sweet to me. Disliking a person based on what you hear about them, an overally aggressive, competitive friendship all the way to two close friends who'd help each other out in a heartbeat. They really do care about eachother and it makes me sooooft.

Sorry for rambling about them in your inbox, you don't have to respond to this whatsoever. I just love your interpretations of the two boys and your work in general. I've been thinking about them more and I wanna say thanks for the great GIF's and writing in the HeiShin tag lately. <3

Thank you!!

If I may, though, one thing I like about their relationship is how Heiji certainly tries to be combative at first, but he gives that up pretty quickly. (I mean, going on a Sherlock Holmes fan tour, even though he doesn't care much for Sherlock, all for the chance to see Shinichi?) And Shinichi is never particularly combative, either—he's not cruel when countering Heiji's incorrect deduction and goes out of his way to give Heiji a healthier mindset. I love that basically as soon as Heiji actually meets Shinichi, he kind of ditches the rival thing in favor of being Shinichi's best friend instead.

At least, that's how I see it, anyway! Thank you for reading my posts! I'm glad that they've resonated with folks 🥺

[hhighkey]

Nanami Kento Headcanons

AGE GAP SERIES - GENERAL

f!reader

series: how you met,

the most perfect man

you’re a good amount of years younger than him let’s say between 5-7 years for our sake but i feel like you gotta be old enough to drink for this man to consider

be prepared to be courted

like properly taken out on dates, sent flowers, constant calls, and check-ins

you’ll never be left on the dark with this man

never opening a door around him i am convinced

i saw someone say he’d keep his hands on your waist as someone’s passing by to move you and ugh yes

lowkey dads you

will straight up scold you if you’re being a brat or doing something risky

sometimes he’s a little too mature for your liking, you’re upset and just looking for an argument and he doesn’t argue. he wants to communicate- you’ve never had that before and it’s foreign

he can be impatient about detrimental things, childish things, but he’s always patient with you

or tries to be patient… will always listen to you ramble and try to see it from your side. but he’s like wow that’s such an immature way of thinking and just has to deal with it

i imagine if you vape it pisses him off sm he’ll just rip it out of your hand and scold you idk why i had this thought

you’re literally his perfect girl

he adores you in every way

calls you dear and honey

always walks behind you when going up stairs so no one looks at your ass

always brings a jacket when you two go out, regardless if he needs it because you always do even when you insist you don’t

he’ll go to the bar with you and your friends ofc if you ask, but he’ll feel out of place. he’s more of the fine establishments type person where everyone’s dressed up and that’s where he’d prefer to spend his time off with you besides home

loves spoiling you

loves watching you get flustered as you’re not used to it- pretty jewelry and bags make you red in the face

you’re just always trying to tell him you don’t need all that stuff like you’re good!

friends joke he’s your sugar daddy (he borderline likes it too)

you’re a civilian as i can see him needing a constant to come home to

loves when you are just hanging out and you lay your head on his lap so he can play with your hair and keep you close

but that means you’re stuck worrying a lot

sometimes turns into him having to console you and support you over his career more so than anything else

which you feel so guilty but you’re too young to deal with the emotions and be able to set them aside to support him

but you try- like shoulder massages after a hard job, sitting with him in silence until he’s ready to talk

you see him all bloody once as he had a tough job, gojo got you from school (pls why do i see you being a grad student) or work

and you’re traumatized seeing him beat up like that- he’d wait days sometimes to see you again to rid of major injuries

you don’t know how to handle it. you don’t know if you can handle it but you love him

sometimes the age gap does take its toll on both of you

you still love going out, drinking, making dumb decisions not ready for the real world whereas he’s cynical about life, works tirelessly

i would say that’s where all the arguments stem from

his frustration with your actions and lack of care towards yourself. you can barely cook to save your life, you hardly do laundry, and you’re deathly hungover when he wants to get breakfast

why doesn’t he want to get black out drunk with you? he doesn’t want to go to girls night? or why is he still at work late? you’ll blame gojo for that one

it probably forces y’all to sit down and really talk about what you both want out of the relationship

which is each other

i wanna write so much age gap stuff for him

nsfw

dom! pleasure dom like always complimenting you and singing you praise about how good you feel

if he’s your first- he’ll take that very seriously

gentle with you like you’d break in his arms

walks you through everything he’s doing

preps you so perfectly, making you finish with his tongue before he even touches you, is very big on foreplay always

is more for your pleasure than his own

large :)

stretches you out, your gasping for him as you grasp his biceps

calls you princess in bed

“such a good girl.”

“so tight for me.”

“you like that?”

“feel so good around my cock.”

“c’mon princess, come for me.”

teases you so much, has you begging for him to fuck you, touch you, let you finish

king of aftercare with baths and cuddles aw

[cheesesoda]

Hii I’m sorry if my request ideas aren’t good but I figured I’d offer you up something! Maybe something where Sanji meets a girl who even though she identifies as a girl she’s very Tom boyish and averse to feminine things not because she doesn’t like them but because growing up in an environment with a bunch of strong male pirates she didn’t want to be seen as weak or lesser. But basically this all leading to Sanji helping to show her that it’s okay to indulge in her feminine interests and not have to try and look and act like a boy as a defense mechanism?

a/n: OKAY THIS IS ACTUALLY REALLY GOOD y/n out here being a lil relatable ngl 🧍‍♀️lol thank you sm for the req! i hope u like it bae 🫶

goddess

sanji x tomboy!reader

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

cw: some internalized misogyny, language

“they’ve been arguing for hours! ugh, would they just be quiet?” nami groans, laying back in her deck chair next to robin. “oh, my dearest nami-swannnnn~ robin-chwannnnnn~ i’ve brought you some drinks!” sanji spins onto the deck with a tray holding 2 tropical drinks. “thank you, sanji-kun!” nami smiles as she takes her drink. suddenly, a loud crash and some incoherent yelling is heard from the crow’s nest. sanji, nami, and robin all turn their attention to the source of the noise. “what’s going on up there?” sanji asks. “y/n and zoro are arguing again about who’s stronger.” robin explains, taking her drink from the tray too. “i’m not sure why she cares so much about being the strongest. i mean, her determination is admirable but why?” robin queries.

later that night…

it’s the middle of the night and sanji is cleaning up his kitchen. everybody has gone to bed. well, almost everyone. as he’s putting away the last dish, he hears some distant mumbles. he frowns and goes to investigate the noise. he finds that it is once again coming from the crows nest. he creeps up the ladder cautiously and is met with the sight of you. you’re lifting the heaviest weights you could find. he’s about to ask you what you’re doing up so late since you hadn’t realized his presence, but for some reason, he just watches. you grunt in exhaustion and drop the weight. “fuck!” you pant, burying your head in your hands. “i’m so weak. dammit! they were right, i should’ve been born a man. then i wouldn’t be so damn useless. i need to be stronger! stronger than zoro! or luffy or sanji or any other man!” you cry out in frustration. sanji decides not to say anything, knowing that you’d breakdown if anyone saw you so vulnerable, so he leaves you in the crows nest and heads to his room, still thinking about your words.

the next morning…

sanji gets up at 4AM to start prepping and making breakfast for the crew and luffy’s endless stomach when memories of what you said last night flood his mind. “i’m so weak. dammit! they were right, i should’ve been born a man. then i wouldn’t be so damn useless. i need to be stronger!” his heart churned at the thought of you thinking that way. as if on cue, you come into the kitchen to accompany sanji while he makes breakfast (as you usually do). “good morning, my lovely y/n-chwannnn~” he swoons. “morning, sanji.” she smiles tiredly. “are you alright, y/n-chan? did you not sleep last night?” he asks, when he notices the grey circles underneath your tired eyes. “i’m fine.” she responds.

later that day — 1PM

“okay so two people are keeping watch on the ship. it’s usopp and franky’s turn today so the rest of us will go explore the island. got it?” nami explains to the crew as they dock on an island. everyone agrees and begins to wander around the island. “oh y/n-chwannnn~ may i accompany you as you shop?” sanji asks. “sure.” she says. after walking around a bit, they walk past a dress shop. “nami-swan would look beautiful in that orange dress!” sanji exclaims as he rushes into the store, you reluctantly following behind him. once he finishes buying the dress, he finds you admiring a beautiful (and very feminine) f/c dress. “you’ll look stunning in that dress, y/n-chwan! you already look like a goddess though!” he says as he approaches you. “huh?! what? i wasn’t looking at it! why the hell would i be looking at a dress? what do you think i am—some girly girl? and stop calling me y/n-chan like i’m just some weak girl! don’t treat me like i’m a woman!” she stammers in embarrassment. before storming out of the store.

later that evening — 5PM

after searching for you all day, sanji finds you sitting alone on top of a hill overlooking the sea. he walks up to you silently. without turning around, you can tell he’s there. “don’t just stand there. say something. don’t treat me like i’m some fragile thing that might break.” you groan. after a moment of silence, he sits next to you. “y/n-cha- … y/n, why don’t you cry?” he asks. “what?” she frowns, snapping her head to him. “why don’t you cry? in the entire time i’ve known you, you have never cried in front of me, or any of us. why?” he clarifies. “what do you think i am? weak? crying is for the weak. crying never helped me when i was sad, so what’s the point? it just makes you look pathetic.” she scoffs. “…why do you care so much about strength?” he follows up. she looks at him in disbelief before closing her eyes and laying her head on her knees. “you’re the strongest person i know. and yes, you’re stronger than the marimo. but there’s so much more to you. why does it matter so much?” he says. there’s a brief silence before you take a deep breath. “before i joined the straw-hats, i was part of another pirate crew. the jack pirates.” [a/n: help idfk what to name it lmao] “i was with them since before i can remember. i was the only girl on the ship and that made them think of me as less. as if i could never be taken as seriously as them. they’d tell me i should’ve been born a boy, that i would’ve been useful. i would’ve been strong. but no, i was born a girl. useless. annoying. weak. i guess that’s why… i just wish i was equal to them. i wish i could be as strong as them.” you explain. you’d never told anyone any of that before. “is that why you act more masculine than nami and robin?” he asks. “i guess…” you mumble. being this vulnerable made you uncomfortable. “i see…” he whispers. “follow me.”

“where are you taking me?” you protest. “don’t worry, my love! it’s a surprise.” he smiles back at you, holding your hand. the pet name makes you blush but you brush it off. finally, you reach the ship again. “why couldn’t you just tell me we were going to the ship?” you ask. “i have a surprise for you on the ship.” he grins.

he leads you to his room and hands you a bag. “what’s this?” you raise an eyebrow. “just open it.” he urges you. sighing, you pull out the item from within the bag. it’s the f/c dress you were gawking at earlier. “sanji, you don’t seriously think i can wear this-“ you groan. “being feminine doesn’t make you any less strong, y/n. everyone else is still gone and brook and usopp fell asleep. please, try it on.” he says softly. you contemplate what to do until you get up silently and walk into bathroom. after a few minutes (a few = 10) you come out of the bathroom nervously. sanji’s jaw literally hits the floor, but he composes himself. gorgeous was practically an insult if he were to describe you. you were more beautiful than a goddess. “for lack of better words: you look beautiful, y/n.” he whispers as you both look at you in the mirror. “beautiful…” you repeat under you breath. the compliment was one you hated to hear, but for some reason, you didn’t hate it as much anymore. “you’re beautiful in this dress and without it, just like how you can lift the heaviest weights on this ship whether you’re wearing a dress or not. you’re so beautiful and strong. you’re a goddess, my love. if only you could see that.” he says genuinely. you turn around and face him. you had always had a massive tiny crush on the cook, but you’d never say it because love is for the weak. “call me y/n-chan…” you breathe. “y/n-chan…” he smiles, matching your soft tone. “my perfect, strong, beautiful y/n-chan… my love…” he whispers so softly that nobody could hear it except you because of how close you were. he brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear and cradles your cheek. ever so slowly, you inch towards each other more, glancing at each other’s lips every few seconds. your lips meet in the softest of kisses but filled with so much love. when you pull away, his hand stays on your face and somehow your hands made their way on his chest. “i love you, y/n-chan, i love you so much. just as you are.” he whispers to you. and then it happens. a tear rolls down your cheek. a part of you that you never were allowed to embrace was finally released at the hands of the man you love. you wrap your arms around him as you softly cry into his dress shirt. he reciprocates the hug. “i love you too, sanji. i love you so much.”

[mysteryshoptls]

SR Idia Shroud - Apprentice Chef Vignette

"Master Chef"

[Kitchen]

Master Chef ― Idia Version ～Let’s Make Stuffed Peppers 1～

Ghost Chef: Alright, well, I'll have you start by making the Stuffed Peppers… Idia-kun, have you ever cooked anything before?

Idia: Eh….........Ah…......Ah…...I haven’t.

Ghost Chef: Oh my, are you nervous? Don't worry, this program is aimed towards amateurs like you. You don't have to tense up like that!

Idia: N-No, this is my default setting…

Idia: Ugh, actually… It's a pain to try to explain it, so I'll just let him think whatever.

Ghost Chef: Idia-kun? Are you alright to continue?

Idia: …Kk.

Ghost Chef: First, prep the sweet bell peppers. Cut off the stem and use your fingers to take out all the seeds and the white bits from inside.

Ghost Chef: It might be a bit hard to remove, but it won't be as tasty if they're left on. Make sure to take them all off.

Idia: What, they want me to cut a round object on a flat surface…? Urrgh, it's not sitting still.

Idia: I don't wanna get hurt in an elective like this. Gotta hold it firmly… Carefully… Carefully…

[chop]

Idia: …Whew, that was scary. K, next is to take out the insides with my fingers, I guess. Urgh… This squishiness suuucks…

Ghost Chef: Take your time and be gentle so as to not damage the produce. However, there is still much more left to do, so don't take too much time.

Idia: Wh-Which is it…!? Do you want me to take my time or hurry up!? Eek, the seeds are stuck to my fingers… This is the worst…

Ghost Chef: Once you've taken out all the seeds, cut the pepper into round slices, 2 cm thick.

Ghost Chef: Make sure to cut them evenly, keep an eye on the thickness of each slice.

Idia: …If you're gonna be that adamant, shouldn't you should pick something other than a knife for this!? A newbie'll definitely make mistakes!?

Ghost Chef: You don't have to put that much thought into it. It's just something to keep in mind.

Idia: Oh, so it's just gotta be close enough? Then say that from the get go…

Ghost Chef: ―Next, you need to make the stuffing that'll go inside. We'll measure out each ingredient as per the recipe and put them in a bowl.

Idia: The stuff I need to measure out are… 1/4 cup of breadcrumbs, 2 tablespoons of milk, an egg… "a pinch" of salt and pepper?

Idia: There it is… "a pinch." Instructions that leave it to the experience and tastes of the one making it that has no repeatability…

Idia: That so frustrating. Let's say I was a pepper aficionado, wouldn't that change the size of that "pinch"???

Ghost Chef: Hmmm. For this recipe, maybe just three shakes of the pepper is enough. All it needs is a "pap, pap, pap" with a quick flick of your wrist.

Idia: Now you're just using sounds to describe it!? Huh, but there's so many ways that could introduce error into the equation, just by the way you snap your wrist; how much force you put into it, your physique, and whatever else.

Ghost Chef: I-I never thought there'd be this many questions about something like this.

Idia: …Haah, whatever. It'll be annoying if I have to stay here longer than I need to, so I'll just shake it however…

Ghost Chef: Still, you sure do notice the smallest things. Are you starting to gain more interest in cooking?

Idia: Uh, no…? Eh? Where'd you get that idea…?

Idia: Uh… I don't really think about food to begin with. Honestly, I tend to forget to eat…

Ghost Chef: Ehh!? I'm sure that would worry your family.

Idia: Well… Yeah, I guess. My kid brother's always trying to push those nutritional health apps…

Idia: When I decided to take this class, I think he said something like, "I hope this'll get you more interested in cooking～"

Ghost Chef: That's a nice brother to have. And? What do you think, now that you're taking the class?

Idia: I get it now, after actually standing here and doing this. It's so inefficient to cook for yourself.

Idia: Just eating's a chore, so cooking on top of that's just a waste of time. Yup, nothing can stand up to those pre-packaged complete nutrition meals.

Ghost Chef: Oh no, did this Master Chef course just backfire!? Oh but, hey look, there's been a ton of recent advances in cookware, you know!

Ghost Chef: There are even pots that'll finish cooking for you if you throw in the necessary ingredients and seasonings!

Idia: Eh… If a pot that useful exists, then why's it necessary to learn how to cook from scratch?

Ghost Chef: No, no, you still need to cut the ingredients, or measure the seasonings yourself, obviously.

Idia: Why's that the only thing that's still gotta be done by hand, then? We can rely on those cooking appliances even more, I'm sure!

Ghost Chef: Do you think so? I think it's already pretty amazing.

Idia: If we're going to have "automated cooking," then it's be great if it'd at least also prepped the ingredients and measured the seasonings.

Idia: Like, just throw everything in the pot, cover it with the lid, wait a bit, and then ta-da, all you gotta do is put it on the plate, that'd be great.

Ghost Chef: If there ever is such a pot, then that might put me out of a job.

Idia: If I were to create an Idia Shroud Cooking Appliance (name pending)… First, I'd make sure to spell out what a "pinch" of something is.

Idia: And to do that, I'll need to collect more data on the actual cooking process.

Idia: And if I'm going to make something to collect that, I'd rather have a pro craft it for me…

Idia: Chef, I'm going to collect the necessary data in order to put together my own cooking appliance, so can I have you finish up the dish?

Ghost Chef: Of course not! I'm pleased that you're starting to get fired up, but you need to finish what you started!

[Kitchen]

Master Chef ― Idia Version ～Let’s Make Stuffed Peppers 2～

Ghost Chef: Once you lightly dust the inside of the bell pepper with cake flour, you'll fill it with the stuffing you made earlier.

Ghost Chef: You can also use other types of flour for this, but… That will impact the result, so try to follow the recipe as much as possible.

Idia: Ahh, yeah, that's pretty much the same principle behind how it's okay to use whatever compatible part and the machine'll work fine, but it's best to use genuine parts. I totally get it.

Ghost Chef: Compatible part…? Genuine part...? Fufu, I suppose it's my turn to not understand your turn of phrase.

Ghost Chef: Now, take the meat stuffing in your hands. Stuff as much as you can tightly inside the bell pepper so there's no room for movement.

Idia: Eek… It's cold and sticky and the meat is just all over my fingers…!

Idia: Th-This is yet another part that they don't give me a set quantity for. I'll have to adjust the amount of stuffing that'll go inside based on the diameter of the pepper...

Idia: Is there no other way to collect the proper amount of grams needed but to do this same task over and over again…?

Idia: …Haah, I've finished stuffing them all.

Ghost Chef: Alright then, time to cook them up. The key here is to wait until the frying pan is at a high enough temperature before putting the peppers on.

Ghost Chef: Don't forget to spread oil in the pan before heating it up. Set it to medium heat.

Idia: …Uh, what's "high enough" temp? What is the proper evaluation criteria for deciding whether the frying pan is at the right temp?

Ghost Chef: Hold your hand over the frying pan, and it if feels warm, then it's ready to go.

Idia: There it is, just randomly having to use a hand again! That difference between warm and hot'll be totally different person to person…

Idia: There's just more and more data that I have to collect for this, now…

Ghost Chef: I'll check for you this time, then. Hmm… Yes, this should be about the right temperature. Idia-kun, you check now.

Idia: It’s kinda warm, kinda hot…? Ch-Chef… I want to measure the surface temperature of the frying pan…

Ghost Chef: Hmmm, that kind of tool does exist out there, but we don't have any in this kitchen.

Idia: I guess I should've expected that… Oh well. I'll give up this time and just cook it, then. Here goes.

[sizzle… pop!]

Idia: GYAAAH!?

Idia: The oil is splashing… Eeek! Don't come this way!!

Ghost Chef: IDIA-KUN, DON'T LEAVE THE PAN!! PUT THE REST OF THE MEAT STUFFING IN THE PAN AROUND THE PEPPERS!

Idia: No way, the oil is splish-splashing everywhere, there's no way I can get any closer!?

Idia: I need some protective gear… Or some kind of shield! What can I use as a shield around here―

Idia: Aha!!! What do I spy over there…?

Idia: It's a pot lid… wait no, the frying pan lid!

Idia: This is like the kind of thing you'd get at an early level, but it's better than nothing! I equip it to one hand and shoot forth!!

[sizzle, sizzle]

Idia: Mission to put the rest of the meat into the frying pan accomplished. Now I can take a quick breather…

Ghost Chef: You need to flip the first pepper you put in the pan, or it'll burn! Here, take the spatula!

Idia: EEK, I DON'T EVEN GET A SHORT REST!!

Idia: Whew… I finally somehow finished everything…

Ghost Chef: Well done. The judges should be making their way here soon, so it's time to bring the food out.

[Cafeteria – Judging Venue]

Cater: Ah, so Idia-kun made my dish, huh. Looks like Cay-kun's your judge～♪

Idia: Eeek! His cheerfulness is way too bright…! I'm so unlucky today…

Cater: I think it's a bit of a nice change of pace to get something home-made from one of my classmates. I can't wait to try your stuffed peppers～!

Idia: Ugh, he's just heaping on the pressure even before I got the food out…

Idia: Yeah… Uh… Th-This is… the dish…

Cater: Thanks～ Woah! It looks so good! It's so colorful and cute, and it's kinda shaped like a flower!

Cater: Can I snap some pictures before I eat it?

Idia: Eep… S-S-Sure… D-D-D-Do whatever…

Cater: Okaay!

Idia: What, is this how my shoddy dish breaks containment and gets spread over the internet? It's not even cool or anything…

Cater: …Photo shoot complete! Okay, now I'll dig in!

[bite, chew, chew chew…]

Cater: …Ooh, it's good!

Idia: Eh!? Y-You can't ignore the fact that it's overcooked in some places, and even burnt in others, though…?

Cater: Sure, there's a few blackened parts. But it's definitely better than being undercooked ♪

Idia: Is this just how an optimist placates? Or does Cater-shi's palate just have a wider strike zone than others…?

Ghost Chef: Good job, Idia-kun. Looks like you got a passing grade.

Idia: Siiiiiiiiiiiiigh～～～～～ …Well, whatever, hooray…

Idia: Woulda been great if I also got an announcement of "Passing Marks, Program Completed!"

Idia: Guess I'll just have to make it through the rest of this by thinking about how I'd design the Idia Shroud Cooking Appliance (name pending)…

Idia: Ahh, seriously, I JUST WANT THIS END ALREADY～～!

Requested by @rotattooill.

[dorimena]

I seriously love Bakugou and Todoroki. Especially Bakugou in his tight winter costume in S5. And I love Dom reader and femdom more than a sub. Can I pleaseee request Todoroki or Bakugou where the reader is recording them playing with a vibrator or dildo but get overstimulated because they can't cum from the cock ring because it's their punishments since they forgot their anniversary so reader also forget to stop the toys even if they beg reader to stop in the camera.if you don't mind the request

I don’t mind~ May your sin be forgiven with this prayer (˘⌣˘人) This sounds really, really sexy, so I had a blast imagining and putting this into words.

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; bakugou katsuki & todoroki shoto

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 2.1k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; fem!reader, sex toys (dildo, vibrators, cockring), overstimulation, cam sex (recording), exhibitionism, semi-public, dom!reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; balcony sex (?), threesome, whiny Bakugou, weeping Todoroki, punishment, orgasm denial, aged-up characters, Bakugou and Todoroki are both 20+

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; Unravel Me by Sabrina Claudio and Fuck Love by XXXTENTACION ft. Trippie Reid somehow helped me piece this together. Sorry if there are any typos! It’s not proofread.

𝕯𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊 𝕿𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊

“I-I-”

“W-we! We-”

You watch as both men struggle to speak, trying to ask for forgiveness, once again. It’s the fourth time this hour, the way Bakugou tries to open his mouth wide enough to not slur his words and Todoroki tries to correct Bakugou while keeping himself coherent.

It’s cute how the smartest guys in your life seem to fail miserably in having a decent human conversation

Well, you can’t blame them either, not with the way you keep toying around with the intensity of the vibrators taped to their dicks, cum drying on the toy enough to show anyone who looks up on the balcony that these two men, with such stature and muscles, are easily falling apart.

“Speak better, sweethearts. Can’t have you guys sounding so dumb on camera, right?”

Oh yeah, and you’re even recording them, in case anyone else would want to watch the rising proheros break.

You’re not actually going to show them to the public, but maybe to their friends. Maybe Kirishima would like to watch? Kaminari? Sero? Or maybe Iida? Midoriya?

Heck, the girls might even ask some day.

But you know what makes you curious about showing this video to their friends?

The way both Bakugou and Todoroki are presenting themselves beautifully, as if they’re pro porn stars saving the wanks rather than proheros saving the day.

It’s cute, how Bakugou’s puffing his muscular chest in the air as if they were the juiciest tits ever, which they are, and how Todoroki is somehow sensually humping the air with every buzz against his furious red tip.

Your eyes stay on the screen, making sure the lighting is entering nice enough to make it seem like they’re glowing, other than their post-orgasm glow.

How many times have they come by now?

“Babes, how many times have you cum?”

They both shake their heads.

Of course they wouldn’t know. They just take what they’re receiving. They’re making up for their mistake.

You still pout, tapping the touchable screen to even out the weird lighting as another cloud covers the sun, again.

Maybe giving their punishment out on the balcony wasn’t such a good idea.

As you look down to the floor below them, seeing the once growing puddle of cum slowly be pushed by the wind to trail off towards the side of the balcony, seeping through the small opening and probably dripping feets below is what keeps you positive, happy knowing people will eventually look up and wonder ‘what the fuck is going on?’

Well, either the drying cum gives away your dirty activities or it’s Todoroki’s wailing as an orgasm is ripped out of him forcibly.

Pity nothing comes from his tip, not since some time ago.

They both thought they deserve to cum and be satisfied?

Maybe you should’ve put the cock rings on them before making them come the first two times, but their reactions and frustration with how little some cum leaves or how their body reacts with the dry convulsions makes you giggle in pride.

Pretty babes.

“Todoroki, shut up. You’ll make the neighbors look over- oh! Oh, that’s what you want? I understand.”

And poor Todoroki is just shaking his head way too fast, enough to give him whiplash, but you just snicker as you reach over to a white box.

An unfamiliar white box.

Bakugou’s eyeing Todoroki in pity, wondering what the other will have to endure as he keeps trying to fight off his orgasm.

How he’s doing it, he has no clue. But god his dick hurts.

He’s been wanting to cum for the past 30 minutes, but with the way he resents this stupid cock ring, he’d rather not humilliate himself in front of you and figure out how else to please you.

Maybe he should offer to eat you out?

The way his body is super tense and his breathing is shallow doesn’t escape your attention, less how much pity is showing itself on his face as he shakes his face in disapproval with Todoroki’s recent dry orgasm.

Good thing you invested in this double dildo.

Neither of the boys take notice with how you’re lubing the dildo that looks like it’d belong to you. It’s quite pretty, long and thick enough to hopefully please your boys.

Even if they won’t get to cum.

“Bakugou,” you start, smiling as you watch his once bright eyes suddenly darken as shock takes over his face.

What the

“Fuck is that?!” He yells out, accidentally letting his body relax as it finally submits to the vibrations of the toy, his yell turning into an unbroken series of high-pitched moans, his hips losing control with how incredibly close he is.

“A double dildo, baby. Look! It even looks like if I’d be fucking you two, isn’t that fun?”

Bakugou shakes his head, gasping ‘no, no, no!’ before he falls forward, balancing himself with his palms as he sobs through his first dry orgasm. Maybe he shouldn’t have held back for so long, not with the way his body unforgivably goes through waves of pure unsatisfied pleasure.

Todoroki, meanwhile, is nodding eagerly, eyes welling up in happy tears at the idea of getting fucked, in getting more pleasure and love from you, even if this is meant to be punishment.

But, why are you exposing them like this?

They forgot your anniversary.

Your 3rd anniversary as a throuple, the anniversary Bakugou swallowed his bite and pride to confess to you how much he loves you and how he’s falling in love with Todoroki too; the anniversary Todoroki finally let loose the dam of emotions and even if a bit tipsy, agreed he too was falling in love with both you and Bakugou, how he hasn’t ever felt so understood, so loved, so safe.

So, yeah, how dare they forget?

But if they wanna be dumb, you’ll help with that.

It’s been a while now since you’ve turned off the vibrators and since you’ve prepped them well enough to take the dildo together.

The scene in front of you is gorgeous, ethereal, sublime.

You just want to ruin them like this everyday.

“Aagh! Ugh! F-fuck! Sl-slow do-own! Haaah~”

“S-sorry! ‘m s-sorry! Ca-an’t! Nnah…”

It’s cute watching them argue a bit, how Bakugou can’t take how fast Todoroki is fucking himself back on the dildo while also pushing the toy deeper into Bakugou. And Todoroki doesn’t actually look sorry, not with how his eyes keep crossing everytime he manages to get the toy to hit his sweet spot.

He’s trying so hard to win your forgiveness by putting up with this, but it’s kind of sad knowing you’re not going to stop anytime soon, or take off the cockrings.

Not like they know anyways.

Bakugou might’ve known, might’ve noticed, with the way he’s trying to keep this dragging as slow and steady as possible; with the way his precum is struggling to escape the confines the cockring gives; with how much his red and miserably hard dick keeps jumping with every push Todoroki’s ass gives him.

You’re lounging about, resisting the urge to get off to the scene in front of you, or else they’d start begging to let them please you as apologies, and knowing how sentimental this day is for you, you know you’d immediately give in.

But this is punishment for their forgetfulness.

So, as the cherry on top of this cum covered balcony sex sundae, you’ll also forget about them.

It lasted for a while as you got bored with how neither of them seemed to be reaching another orgasm.

If only the dildo had a vibration option.

But the vibrators still taped on their dicks will have to do.

So you turn them back on, and oh would you look at that! The cockrings could also vibrate.

The pleasure-filled scream coming from Bakugou and the cute, drawled whine of your name Todoroki lets out makes you feel grateful for thinking ahead, kinda.

Now both boys are writhing against each other, different ways to let out their desperations and dying need to properly cum manifesting in either rapid fucking on the dildo to simply submitting to the minstruations of the other party.

To put it in better, shorter words, Bakugou took the reigns in fucking the dildo in such rigor and strength that made Todoroki lay on his chest, ass still up as he simply took everything Bakugou kept pushing into him, mouth opened as hiccups and drool escaped. His eyes settle onto your form, watering as more tears gather on his waterline before dropping to the ground his face is resting on.

It feels so good, so, so good he can’t believe this is punishment. Even if he hasn’t been able to properly cum for some time now, he still thinks you’re being nice with them. Must be because of the anniversary that you sadly reminded them of.

He’s trying his best to push back on the dildo, wanting Bakugou to feel just as good as him, just as fucked as him.

And everytime the toy hits him just right, Todoroki sees stars, feels an all too familiar tingly sensation as he tries to grab his dick, but when you turn the vibrator up even more, his hands just lay on the ground, nails raking as he tries gripping on something, anything.

He really, really, really needs to cum. He wants to cum.

Keep being a good boy for you.

But all he gets is a choked sob of your name leaving his mouth as his eyes roll to the back of his head, eyebrows furrowed upwards as the strongest orgasm takes over his body, he’d be convinced there’s an earthquake happening. Small whimpers of how much it hurts leaves his mouth soon after, his dick twitching pathetically as it slowly becomes purple, barely a dribble of cum managing to escape.

Bakugou is in no good shape either, loudly moaning and crying out how good you’re fucking him, how he’s taking your cock, how good he is being, to please, please, please let him cum.

But actually cum, to let him contaminate the floor even more with his sperm, to let him taste it even, if that would make you happy and forgive him.

He’s close to wailing by now, hips going impossible faster as he forgets all about poor Todoroki riding out his high.

And the moment you turn on the vibrators intensity, he gets dizzy, breath getting stuck in his throat as his brain tries to process the spiraling of his warm, hot orgasm growing too much, burning him everywhere as if it were lava.

Small sparks sound on his fingertips as he howls and gets hurled into his own orgasm, back arching and head thrown back as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

He didn’t even notice the tears rolling down his cheeks, not with how his mind only cares about how good yet bad this orgasm feels.

Not even how loud his high-pitched wails of how good it feels, how much it hurts, is enough to alarm anyone near the radius of this defiling act.

Both boys are left shuddering or twitching through their intense dry orgasm, the way their bodies react with the built up cum in their dicks, with how hot and how wreckless they’re becoming with their quirks.

Still connected with the dildo, neither move, unless it’s some pathetic hump to help drag the orgasm a little more before they try to even remember what letter your name begins with.

Bakugou’s whimpering.

Todoroki’s crying silently.

Both blinking the haze out of their vision as they remember about the buzzing, about the relentless feeling on their really, really sensitive dicks.

Bakugou’s crying now.

Todoroki’s just busy mewling like a slut by now.

And when they both turn to look at you, they gasp so loudly one of them begins choking on air and the other with saliva.

Where’d you go?!

Come back!

And ‘come back’ and ‘forgive us’ is the only thing anyone could possibly hear for the next few hours as they fuck the dildo and let the vibrators do their job in milking more and more orgasms out of them.

If only they’d look closer, they would’ve seen a post-it note stuck on the tripod of the camera telling them you went to the kitchen and that they better come crawling.

Oh well, you’re enjoying the view anyways as you sip on some liquor of your liking, turning off the vibrators as you slowly walk to the balcony.

The sun’s beginning to set. You’re not that cruel in letting them fuck each other in the cold.

The bedroom is much better, and comfier.

Perfect for you to finish the job and let them finally, finally, get their deserving orgasms.

You’ll be sure to milk out

Every.

Single.

Drop.