#but if anyone wants to take this idea and run with it all I require is a link drop!!!

[kettlefire]

A Panic in Time (DP x DC)

This is all thanks to the awesome @tkiesai for basically being the foundation of this idea! This is probably going to be long, and probably won't delve that deep into my ideas about this idea. Largely so it's not insanely long. But here I go!

°•°•°•°

Bruce's head felt like it had been shoved through a straw and spit out on the other side. The throbbing was annoying, but it wasn't anything the man couldn't handle.

His mind was muddled, memories of what happened prior to him awaking was blurry and unsure. Bruce knew it wasn't something good.

He vaguely remembered a league meeting, a threat, something looming. It wasn't world ending, or at least that's what Bruce remembered. It should have been something they could handle.

But now, here was Bruce. Waking up in the grass of some random park. He was dressed in casual attire, something he'd wear in public as Bruce. Although last he remembered he was in the Batsuit.

The sun felt too bright in the sky. The sound of families filled the air and children's laughter. No one seemed to blink twice at Bruce as he pulled himself together.

It took a moment to steel himself, to gain composer again. It took a few sweet lines, and a charming smile for a nice mother to slide him a few painkillers. The lies rolling off his tongue like second nature.

To his luck there was a newspaper at the top of the trashcan. He was in some town called Amity Park, and the year... the year was the problem.

It was 1996. Whatever had happened had sent Bruce back in time. There was a few suspects Bruce can think were the cause of this. But something in his gut kept drawing his train of thought to the Flash.

It seemed like each time the League had any time related problems, Barry was in the center of it. Which also leaves Bruce with the question if he was the only one sent back in time.

God, he could only imagine the nightmare if the others were sent back in time. Yes, they can be professional. They understand the risk of changing things in the past.

But Bruce also understands that his team can be less than... intelligent at times.

Despite that, Bruce needed to find a way to get back to Gotham. He might not know for sure where everyone was right now, but he knew Alfred was the safest bet.

A plan laid out in Bruce's mind, a list of people he knew wouldn't be a risk to approach. He just needed to find a way to get to them. He had barely made it to the gates of the park before a shrill cry pierced the air.

There was just one loud outcry, before it quieted down. Bruce glance around the space, spotting a young boy curled on the ground. Tears streamed down the boy's chubby cheeks.

And no one even moved to the boy's aid. Not a single mother spared more than one glance in the kid's directions. No parents came rushing over to the boy's side.

Bruce almost walked away, he really did. This wasn't his time, anything he does can cause immense damage to the timeline. But when Bruce caught sight of blood bubbling from a scrape on the boy's knee, Bruce couldn't ignore him.

Maybe it's just the father in him, but Bruce barely even notices when he's crossing the small distance. His mind zeroing in on a hurt child that needed help. Kneeling before the small boy with a gentle smile, and pulling his handkerchief free from his pocket.

"You're alright there, buddy. It looks like you took a bit of a tumble there." Bruce slipped into the same tone he used to use when his kids were young. Gentle and understanding, as he pressed the handkerchief to the small scrape.

The boy sniffled, tears slipping from his eyes. Bruce was more focused on the way the kid was looking at him. Like he couldn't fathom someone coming to his aid.

That look had Bruce's heart breaking slightly. He's seen a similar look before. The few times he's come to the aid of a hurt child that wasn't used to getting help.

Something no child should ever feel or experience.

"Where's your parents, kiddo?" Bruce asked after a moment of silence from the boy. He had waited until the kid's breathing settled down when the boy's chest stopped pumping so quickly.

Except his question only seemed to bring a new wave of tears to the boy's eyes. The small child just seemed to curl into himself further, ducking his gaze away from Bruce.

And as much as Bruce didn't want it to be true, it was clear the kid didn't have the support he needed. It might not as be as far as some of Bruce's kids have had in the past.

But it was clearly not good.

"That's okay, it's alright. What's your name?" Bruce tried again. The boy's silence was leaving an uncomfortable pit in Bruce's stomach.

"D-Danny..." The boy spoke out his name between sniffles, and Bruce felt a wave of relief hearing the boy speak.

In hindsight, Bruce can see how strange the scene might look. A slightly disheveled man comforting a lone young boy in a park. It wasn't exactly perfect.

But with the lack of reactions from the parents around, Bruce had a feeling the town had an idea who this boy was. The whole situation just didn't feel that right for him.

It took a few more comments before Bruce managed to get the boy to crack a smile. A laugh had felt like breaking a massive wall.

Before long, Bruce had Danny actually like any other boy he's known. Carefree and happy, just like a child should be.

"You didn't tell me your name, mister." Danny had suddenly cut down the relaxed moment they were in. A pout laced the boy's lips as he looked up at Bruce, almost accusatory.

"I'm Bruce. Bruce Wayne." Bruce responded without missing a beat. He knew this might cause problems in the future. He wasn't supposed to be here.

But when his gut is telling him something, he can't just ignore it. He checked his pockets, finding no business cards anywhere. So, Bruce fell back in plan B.

"No matter how long it's been from now, you can come to me for help. Just look for Bruce Wayne in Gotham City, and when you find me... just say Fairbanks sent you."

Bruce wasn't sure if he'll ever see Danny again when he goes back to his own time. Wasn't even sure if this was the same universe as his own. But he couldn't walk away without at least offering the boy help in some way.

When Danny's eyes filled up with tears again, Bruce thought he said something wrong at first. That was until the boy was suddenly clinging to his shoulders in a tight embrace, muttering 'thank you' over and over again.

Bruce felt himself almost close to tears just from that alone. His heart was aching for the small boy. Even if Bruce couldn't help Danny anymore than this, he was hoping the boy would have a better life.

One where he wasn't clinging to a stranger for comfort that family should be providing him.

THWAMP

It didn't hurt, but it did cut their hug short as Bruce suddenly pulled away. Turning his head to see a young girl wielding a wiffle bat, and another young boy standing behind her.

Her purple eyes glared at Bruce like he had done the worst thing in the world. Her grip on the bat was threatening and ready to swing again. Her knuckles white from the tight grip alone.

Maybe leaving this time era might not be as easy as Bruce thought as the young girl probbed him with angry and scolding questions. Not that Bruce could blame her.

He just hoped this hiccup didn't get back to the league. They'd have a field day hearing about how Batman got scolded by a child with a wiffle bat.

°•°•°•°•°•°

Danny wasn't sure if this was the best idea. It's been years since he met Bruce Wayne. So many years. Danny had just been a kid, not even ten, when Bruce had introduced himself.

When he had an adult, actually check in on him. Yet, it was a memory Danny couldn't forget. Maybe it was just the kindness that Bruce radiated.

Or maybe it was when Sam came to his "rescue" near the end. Regardless, it was cemented in his mind. A core memory that Danny cared with him through the years.

Now, here he was, roughly seven years later. Standing in front of a manor that put even Sam's place to shame.

It took a lot of courage for Danny to knock. Barely a second later, an old man answered the door, an accent Danny was certain Bruce hadn't had.

A stuttered explaination of being here to see Bruce Wayne, that the man knew him, barely left Danny's mouth before the old man ushered him inside.

The man, Alfred, told Danny to wait by the door before vanishing further into the manor. It took a lot for Danny to not just vanish.

Being half ghost nowadays had its quirks, Danny could just vanish, and no one but Alfred would know. But he couldn't.

It had taken a lot for Danny to make the journey to Gotham City. He hadn't even thought to look up a current picture of Bruce either. Which was probably a big mistake on his end.

Danny didn't even know if Bruce was offering this kind of help. But Danny didn't have many allies to turn to. He needed help.

Not just for himself but for his family. For Amity Park. He couldn't be afforded the ability to run away. Not now.

Danny felt all the air leave his lungs when Bruce entered the area. The man didn't look a day older than what Danny remembered. Bruce looked a bit more put together, not like he had just jumped out of a moving car, but it was Bruce.

"Uhm... I don't know if you remember me. But my name's Danny... we met when I was a kid." Danny started trying to explain himself before Bruce could speak. He recognized that confused look anywhere, and Danny didn't have the guts to go through with this if Bruce asked any questions.

"You told me if I ever needed help, to come find you. Bruce Wayne in Gotham City... you, uh, told me to tell you Fairbanks sent me?"

That came out more like a question than Danny would have liked. But it did ease his nerves a bit as he watched Bruce's slightly confused expression turn to alarm and surprise.

Danny wasn't sure what this would do. If Bruce could truly help him. But he was out of options. Just seeing Bruce recognize something he said was enough to calm the teen's anxiety slightly.

"I'm sorry, Danny... I don't remember you. But I believe you and I want to help you. Come inside, have a seat, and tell me what's going on."

That response was enough to have Danny's eyes fill with tears. His chest filling with a sense of hope he hadn't felt in weeks now.

Maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

[ozzgin]

The wonderful wizard Ozz. I have had this concept stuck in my head like a worm!

Could you imagine a Darling escaping from their Yan, not to run but just to feel the rain on their skin? I've been consuming this prompt like a heroin addict and I can't seem to get enough!

If I were to expand your prompt, I quite like the idea of a Yandere that can't really go full yandere because Reader is just too willing. He loves yandere content and can very much relate, but none of the escalations can happen if, well, the object of his obsessive affection doesn't protest in the first place. Is it too far fetched from what you'd imagined? Let me elaborate:

Yandere! Male x Willing! Reader

AKA: When you want to be a Yandere, but your Darling unfortunately cooperates.

The Yandere has been stalking Darling for months. Journal entries, walls plastered with photos (and the occasional creepshots), recordings. He just can't get enough of his Darling. He loves everything about you and can barely function throughout the day, fantasizing about your life together.

Enough is enough and he finally decides to make you his. He's been consuming media of similar tropes, with obsessed men pleading for a chance and having to force their way in because of rejection and fear. He's prepared for everything. Your tears, your trembling voice, your hands pushing him away. He finds you, approaches you and confesses his feelings, knuckles white as he grips his fists in anticipation. Your eyes widen for a moment, before narrowing in a smile. "I had no idea! Sure, I'll go out with you." Huh? Wait. This wasn't...this wasn't in the plan. Somehow he'd been certain you'd refuse. He must've mumbled the last part out loud, because you respond with "Why would I say no?"

A very good point indeed. You will change your mind, however, once you learn the extent of his love. You're holding his hand and following along as he takes you to his place, completely and utterly unaware of what you're about to witness. He can't truly be your boyfriend if he has to hide his very nature, after all. You might be disgusted, frightened, offended. He can already hear your screams, demanding explanations. It's all out of love. "It's okay if you don't understand", he mumbles to himself, watching your frozen body as you gaze into his room. You take a couple of steps towards the nearest wall, tracing the hundreds of images with your fingers. "Wow. You never mentioned being into photography", you remark, impressed. "It's like an exhibition! But...you might have to work on your angles", you blurt out, a little embarrassed, pointing to one of the creepshots. "This isn't very flattering. Did you take it in a hurry? It makes my legs look disproportionate." He can only stare, taken aback. "S-sorry" is all he manages.

Okay, but don't imagine your life will continue as usual. You've only seen a glimpse of his adoration. Now that you're officially dating, he cannot allow anyone else to have access to you. You have to understand, he cannot protect you properly if you're not under his watch all the time. As much as he cherishes you, he will have to be rough if needed. That's what he tells himself as he shoves the required tools in the trunk of his car, speeding towards your apartment. Once there, he fidgets on the sofa, considering his speech. You seem to be just as uneasy - perhaps you're predicting what's to come? - casting your eyes down and giving short answers. "I think you should move in with me." He states solemnly. You gasp and throw a hand over your mouth, and tears quickly well in the corner of your eyes. "How did you...how did you know?" You say between sobs. Huh? "I didn't want to burden you with my problems, seeing as we just started dating...but my landlord won't renew the lease. I was so scared I'd be homeless."

He clicks his tongue. This isn't very yandere, more like the average couple experience. You bring the final moving box to his car, fitting it in the trunk. "By the way, what's with all the rope?" you ask. "Just move it aside", he sighs. How can he explain it? He's been training, sweating and bleeding for a marathon and right before the whistle, they handed him the first prize. His muscles are aching for the sprint that never happened. Of course he's grateful to have you at last, but somehow he feels like he hasn't proven his dedication properly. You just don't get it, do you? How sickening his love is for you.

As the days pass, he eases into his role of...how does one even call it? Pseudo-captor? When you found his journal, you blushed and confessed how no one before him put this amount of effort into knowing you. All the male contacts from your phone vanishing? It was about time you cleaned up your acquaintances and it was nice of him to help. The AirTags he's hidden in your bags and pockets? You appreciate his safety concerns. Nowadays, with all these perverts freely walking the streets, you can never be too sure.

One morning he wakes up to an empty bed. He jolts up, dazed. Could it be his wish was finally granted? You must've gotten tired of him and tried to escape. Oh, silly little Darling love. You should've known there's no more walking out once you said yes. He checks his phone and pounces out, ready for the hunt. As he sprints along the street, he finds you suspiciously close to his home. Not very smart of you to...what are you even doing? Your hands are raised up, fingers fanned out under the pouring rain. You notice his presence and turn to face him with a wide, childish grin. "I haven't done this since I was a child. When was the last time you felt the rain on your skin?" Only now it occurs to him he's been running in this downpour and his clothes are soaked. He was too focused on finding you.

"I thought you escaped", he almost whispers. "Escape? From what?" You tilt your head in confusion. He places his cold, large hands over your cheeks. "Do you comprehend I'm very much obsessed with you? I'm not joking around. You're never, ever leaving me. You're stuck here forever. I mean it. I really do. I'd rather kill you with my own hands than let you go. Because I love you." You take a moment to admire the intricate patterns of his irises, pupils dilated in a spiraling madness. By the end of his erratic oration, he's panting and digging his nails into your skin.

"I know."

[suosgirl]

Helloooo! I was wondering if you are taking requests for Wind Breaker?

If yes, can I ask for a story or headcanons about Suo meeting and getting curious (and eventually falling for) a f.reader who is like a princess for Shishitoren?

In my head it would be funny to see Suo challenging and interacting with Choji and Togame (who are already threatening Suo to stay away from the reader). I mean, he can be kind of mean when he wants, and still wear a smile.😆

Thanks for hearing me out!

And let me say, I realllyyyy love the way you write!🩷

Shishitoren's Princess (& Her Guard Dog) | Hayato Suo x Reader

Word Count: 7471

୨ৎ Read me before interacting!

୨ৎ Pairing: Hayato Suo x Reader feat. Shishitoren (literally most of them), Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama, Mitsuki Kiryu, Haruka Sakura, Akihiko Nire

୨ৎ Warnings: mdni, f!reader, manga spoilers, ooc (definitely ooc sorry ah), angst, harassment, swearing, kissing, miscommunication – if I’ve missed one, I apologize + please let me know!

୨ৎ Note: oh my goodness – I'm actually so sorry for how this took me (and how long this is ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა). I loved loved loved this idea so much, and thank you for the sweetest words! I really hope this is somewhere in the ballpark of what you were requesting! Thank you again for the amazing idea! I love you!

You hadn’t meant to cross over to their territory – truly. It’s just that Togame had mentioned that his favorite Ramune flavor had been out since last night, and Tomiyama had been going on and on about this new snack that just wasn’t available at the usual corner store that you guys frequented, so you found yourself with a mission on your mind and your wallet in your hand.

Pretty, perfect, caring adorable you. With a smile that could heal any scratch and a heart that seemed to never run empty. You were the pride and joy of Shishitoren – their mascot in every sense. 

You knew everyone by name. If someone asked, you could name at least 5 things about each person from the top of your head. You could name their allergies, their likes and dislikes, and even their interests – all because you listened to them.

You were attentive and warm – quick to lend an ear if someone was having a bad day or offer advice if they asked.

And it was scary how well you could tell if they were in the dumps – it becomes a running joke that you have some kind of emotional superpower when it comes to them. It takes just one look, one look before you’re bringing them to a secluded corner and asking them if they’ve got something weighing on their minds.

You knew their personalities, knew their stories, knew their hearts. 

The only time anyone avoided you was when they knew they did something wrong – because they knew you’d be pulling them by the ear and scolding them. And, as much as some of them wanted to get mad, they just couldn’t bring themselves to – because having someone care for them so fiercely was a feeling that not many of them had ever experienced, and from the bottom of your heart you truly cared.

After every fight, they knew you’d be the one to patch them up. Bofurin had the townspeople, sure, but Shishitoren had you. You, who would set up tables in the Ori with every inch of space taken up by ointments, antiseptic spray, gauze – the works. Whatever injury they had, as long as not severe, was taken care of by you. 

If it was serious and required hospital attention, you were the one bringing them there – eyes sharp and tongue at the ready to yell at anyone who dared to treat them differently or deny services.

And these boys … they had the utmost respect for you. You, who had nothing but love to give, never expected a single thing back. You cared for them, genuinely, and saw them as your own brothers to fuss over and worry about and love. 

You were family – and honestly, Togame and Tomiyama were just glad to have met you after their fight with Bofurin. 

You’d moved to this side of town just a little after the whole thing, and when you’d gotten lost in the dark alleys with your phone on 1% and tears in your eyes, it was Tomiyama who walked you home. He’d talked your ear off the whole way, of course, but he was surprised at how you were able to keep up with him. You were actively responding to him, asking questions, keeping the conversation going – and Tomiyama liked that. 

And when you’re delivered safely to your front door, you ask if you can exchange contact info. His eyes light up, and he’s quickly saying yes and that he’d love to hang out with you again.

He doesn’t expect you to reach out to him the next day though, asking if you can give him a thank-you present for going out of his way the day before. 

And when you show up to the Ori, with a bag of assorted goodies in your hands, you’re met with more men than you could count, all with eyes staring wide at you.

They expect you to run away, honestly, because they know what they look like. They know that you’re probably a sweet girl, sure, but they were a gang – plain and simple. A gang working on reform, sure, but a gang nonetheless. So, if you were to drop your little goodie bag in fear and run for your life, well, it would probably be the most appropriate response.

Instead, what you do is gasp, point an accusatory finger at Tomiyama, and exclaim, “WHY didn’t you tell me that there would be more people here?”

You quickly hand him the bag, muttering out an “I’ll be back”, and in less than 30 minutes you’ve got your hands full with 5 more bags, packed to the brim with even more snacks.

With Togame, it takes just a little bit longer for him to warm up to you. Not that he doesn’t already like you – it’s just that he’s, well, a bit more reserved and a bit more quiet and observing (a lot more quiet if we’re comparing him to Tomiyama). 

It’s when, during a fleeting conversation, he mentions that he plays Go with the elderly men at the public bath – and he watches you perk up at his words. Immediately, you’re asking if it would be alright to play with him sometime, and while he’s hesitant, he ultimately says yes at the sight of your bright eyes and wide smile.

He admits that he thinks you’re just bluffing, until you actually plan a day to play, and now you’ve got him thinking that maybe you’re good? Maybe, you’re a secret Go prodigy or something? Maybe you’ve got a secret or two up your sleeve and –

He wipes the floor with you. Absolutely demolishes you. But you’re happy about it, laughing at the result, and he’s confused because you didn’t win? Did you … did you know how board games work?

You’re quick to tell him that you enjoyed it because you got to spend time with him, got to know who he is as a person because of how he played. 

You leave him standing on the street, a bottle of Ramune long forgotten in his hand (his prize for winning) and his mouth open in surprise.

And when you notice he’s not next to you anymore, you turn around with a smile on your face as you ask, “Don’t you feel that you know me a little bit better too?”

Yeah, they were glad that you got to see them as they were now, with hopes and dreams and emotions. They don’t dwell on the idea of you meeting them before then – they don’t want to. Because if they thought about it too long, they’d have their answer.

You deserved to be happy and healthy and protected. You, who filled a hole in Shishitoren that they didn’t even know existed. 

And now you were an irreplaceable part of their lives, so precious and so important that they began to understand Bofurin. They had you – someone that they would do anything in their power to protect – to keep safe from harm.

You were Shishitoren’s Princess.

After that, Tomiyama and Togame were stuck to you like glue. Always thinking about you, always concerned, always wondering where you were. 

You’re running late and they haven’t got a text letting them know why? They’re out on the streets, danger flashing in their eyes and prepared for the worst. However, when they see that you’ve been distracted by a stray cat on the road, all they do is let out a laugh and join your side. 

They hear you sniffling and see that your eyes are shining with tears? They’re immediately on you, asking who did this to you, with a promise to make them pay for it tenfold. “You can’t really beat up allergies,” you laugh, before sneezing into a tissue. Immediately, the Shishitoren boys are rounded up, their eyes focused and determined – to get you allergy medicine.

You were everything good in the world, bottled up into someone who could make even the rainiest days seem a bit more brighter and the hardest challenges a bit more bearable – and they didn’t want anyone infringing on their happiness.

So when Hayato Suo, from Bofurin, comes across you one fateful day – they’re absolutely livid. 

You hadn’t meant to cross over to their territory – truly. It’s just that Togame had mentioned that his favorite Ramune flavor had been out since last night, and Tomiyama had been going on and on about this new snack that just wasn’t available at the usual corner store that you guys frequented, so you found yourself with a mission on your mind and your wallet in your hand.

And honestly, you loved them, you did, but the way that they treated you like a delicate little flower sometimes felt a bit too stuffy.

What? Did they think you just patched people up for fun? That you knew how to medically treat someone just short of a nurse because it was your hobby?

You’re too absorbed in your thoughts to realize where the directions on your phone are taking you until you’ve already passed the train crossing border that connects Bofurin’s and Shishitoren’s territory. You’re spit out onto a street that you’ve never seen before, but you shrug it off.

When you find the corner store, you make quick work of your shopping list, even grabbing some items for yourself, before you’re out the door.

It’s when you’ve barely taken a few steps down the street that you feel it – the staring on the back of your head.

While you were in the store, you’d felt their eyes on you, but you’d ignored it, hoping that it was just a fleeting moment of curiosity. Now, you see that it was the eyes of a predator stalking their prey.

You pause, before quickly taking out your phone and sending a quick text to Togame and Tomiyama – they just need one small clue and they can fill in the rest – so you send your location. 

And when you finally turn to face your stalker, you snap a photo of their face. For insurance, you assure yourself. Just in case. 

He’s taller than you, with a smirk on his face and his hands in his pockets. You feel uneasy at his presence, and you look up and down the street to see that no one’s around.

Damnit damnit damnit. 

“You’re really pretty, totally my type. Could I get your contact information?” he’s asking, but the tone that he’s saying it in doesn’t leave any room for objection.

“No,” you reply, simple and straight to the point. Then, you stay standing there, and you wait. 

“Never turn your back on an enemy.”

Togame had said this briefly, once, while the both of you were watching everyone spar.

When the man takes a step forward, you take one back, maintaining the distance between you and him.

“Oh come on – it’s just your number. Don’t make this such a big deal.”

He’s holding himself back and you can see it. You can see the way his hands are twitching by his sides now and the way his breathing is starting to speed up.

“Always keep an eye on your opponent~! You wouldn’t wanna miss anything!”

Tomiyama’s words run through your mind next, and you will yourself to maintain your facade.

You’re starting to get just the slightest bit worried now, though. It really shouldn’t be too much longer, you think. Any minute now. 

But a minute passes by, Togame and Choji aren’t here, and the guy’s got his hand wrapped around your wrist so tightly that it’s starting to throb.

“Please – leave me alone!” you yell out, but it’s going through one ear and out the other. He’s smiling down, dark and sinister, and it’s then that you remember something so crucial that you can’t believe you forgot it.

“Kick them, um, down there. It’ll hurt, a lot. But that’s a last resort type of move, alright princess?”

Those self-defense lessons are paying off, Togame. 

You make a mental note to thank him when he gets here.

You kick the man, hard, and when he releases your arm you step back as fast as you can, but – 

The plastic bag you had once held in your hand, now filled with the sloshing liquid and the broken glass of Togame’s Ramune bottle, causes you to slip.

Your hands shoot out and you close your eyes in anticipation of the fall that never comes because strong, warm arms are holding you up.

You let out a sigh of relief – finally. You’re brought to stand, but before those hands can leave your body, you’re swiftly grabbing them to wrap around your waist and leaning your head on their chest.

“Geez, took you guys long enough –”

The sight of a black jacket cuts you off. Black, with green embroidery.

You quickly push yourself off, eyes wide and cheeks red because you had just initiated a very intimate hug with someone who was a complete stranger.

“I-I’m so sorry! Oh my gosh – I thought you were someone else!” you blurt out, hands covering your mouth – and he looks as caught off guard as you are.

His eye is wide, mouth open just the tiniest bit, and – he’s cute.

“Wow, I don’t get thanked like that too often,” he smiles, and you’re mortified at his playful reaction.

“I –,” You open your mouth to apologize again, but he’s got a hand on your shoulder, quickly cutting you off.

You look up at him, and the smile’s still there, but it’s different now – it’s frightening.

“Would you mind stepping to the side for me? It seems some people just don’t know when to quit.”

You hear shuffling behind you, and you’re quickly brought back to the situation at hand. Nodding, you get out of his way, and it’s as soon as you step past him that you hear a sickening thud and a groan of pain.

When you turn, you’re relieved to see that the man who’d been harassing you is on the ground, and if you were to guess, probably out cold.

“Wow… You made quick work of him,” you don’t try to hide the awe in your voice and Suo finds it both endearing and concerning that you’re praising him.

Concerning mainly because, well, you don’t seem to be the type to leisurely enjoy street fights. 

And now you’re right in front of him, inspecting his face and body to make sure there aren’t any cuts that need to be treated or any injuries that need tending.

It’s second nature at this point — ingrained in your body and soul.

Cute, he thinks, very cute that she thinks he touched me.

“Do you see anything wrong, love?” he jests, enjoying the way you’re so diligently scanning him from head to toe.

“No, I don’t think—”

You are, once again, mortified by his teasing. No one at Shishitoren spoke to you like this, and sure they called you Princess, but to you, it held the same value as sister or friend.

“S-sorry, force of habit… ah, thank you for saving me! I sent my friends a message but —”

You’re cut off by the sounds of two distinct voices yelling "Princess", and Suo’s quick to prepare himself for another fight.

However, when he sees Togame and Tomiyama run around the corner with panic in their eyes and desperation in their voices, he’s just confused.

And when they spot the two of you, with an unconscious body on the ground, it gets even more confusing. Because why are they walking over here and why do they have scowls on their face and —

“Princess, what were you thinking?”

Tomiyama and Togame are all over you, Togame’s hand gently grasping your chin to move your face from side to side, and Tomiyama’s got his hand on your wrist, softly thumbing at the bruised skin.

“I’m okay, I’m okay.”

Suo’s observing all of this, and he’s trying to rack his brain for any information about you. God, he really wished Nirei was here right now.

He’s never heard that name before or seen your face, so this must be a recent development. But with the way they’re fretting over you, you’d think that you’d all been childhood friends or something because the way that they’re worrying over you is definitely not normal.

You try to push their hands away from you, embarrassed that you have an audience, but they don’t let up so all you’re able to do is grumble and huff as they inspect you from head to toe.

“... He hurt you,” Tomiyama whispers, and you grab his wrist before he starts stalking toward the body on the floor.

“It’s okay um – oh, I don’t know your name, but he helped me out! Everything’s fine – really! Please, let’s calm down,” you plead, and all it takes is one look at your anxious face for the both of them to ease up.

Now, Suo really wants to understand.

“Suo … thanks for protecting her. This idiot didn’t tell us she was crossing over into your territory. It’s our fault, sorry,” Togame explains, one hand scratching the back of his neck and the other draped over your shoulders.

Suo takes a moment to respond. Who would he be, after all, if not an instigator?

Because — who were you? You – who could turn the Shishitoren leader and his second in command into mere puppies with your sweet voice. You — who had them running like their lives depended on it. 

“Ah, I’d save a sweet girl like her any day,” Suo says, testing the waters, and he gets the exact reaction he was hoping for.

Togame and Tomiyama stiffen up beside you, as you gasp in surprise at his words. 

And suddenly, there’s a shift in the air – and it’s deadly.

You sense it, of course, because who wouldn’t be able to feel the heightened electricity and the low hum of buzzing coming from Togame’s and Tomiyama’s chests?

And you, ever the de-escalating expert, quickly blurt out, “Ah, wait! I need to go back to the store! Give me like 5 minutes!”

Before they can get a “no” out, you’re already out of their grasp and beelining it for the convenience store.

It’s silent for a moment, with just Suo, Tomiyama, and Togame looking at one another.

Finally, Togame breaks the silence.

“Look, Sakura’s a friend –”

“And Ume-chan too!” Tomiyama chimes in.

 “ – and I hope we’re not stepping on your toes here but don’t get any ideas.”

Suo knows he should stop. He should probably apologize, and let them know it’s not what they think. That they’ve got it all wrong. But … he really can’t help it – not with the way that they’re hissing at him like cats. It’s adorable – and you’re adorable.

He was never really good with holding back his tongue, anyway.

“I think she can make her own decisions, don’t you?”

Togame and Tomiyama do not take kindly to his words, and so it begins – a passive-aggressive verbal war.

“Ha, right. It’s been fun, eye-patch-kun, but we really oughta take her back home. You know, so that we can patch her up,” Togame says, and though there's a smile on his face, Suo understands the underlying message behind his words.

She got hurt in your territory, under your patrol.

Suo smiles back at him.

“Ah, sorry! I wasn’t quick enough to save her, but I’m glad I was able to sort this out before things got out of hand,” Suo replies.

All you guys do is blow things up out of proportion – with violence.

“If we’d been here, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt in the first place.”

“Hm. But you probably would’ve gone overboard.”

“Watch it –”

“Ah, sorry!”

It’s when Tomiyama finally opens his mouth that Suo realizes he’s been uncharacteristically quiet, and when they make eye contact, Suo’s smile deepens – because Tomiyama looked like he was ready to maul Suo into pieces, like a true Lion.

“Ume-chan and Furin are our friends,” he says, eyes darkening with every word, “but she’s our family – I think it’s best if you stand down.”

It’s at that moment that you come racing back towards them, your hands full of goodies and a grin on your face as you exclaim, “I got it! I got it!”

You hand Togame his Ramune, Tomiyama his snack, and … you hand Suo bottled tea.

“Sorry, um, I wasn’t too sure what you liked – but this is my favorite drink! Ah, um, if you don’t like it … Suo … I won’t be hurt. But you strike me as a tea lover so –”

You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands wringing behind your back as you ramble and Suo can’t help the sweet smile and the small laugh that escapes his lips before thanking you.

And as soon as he’s done, you’re being whisked away back to your territory – back to your home.

As you walk through the passing, with Tomiyama’s arm intertwined with yours and Togame’s arm draped over your shoulders, you briefly turn around, just to catch one more glance of Suo.

He’s standing there, smiling as he raises his hand to wave at you. You smile back at him with a glossy look in your eyes before Togame softly flicks your forehead.

Your attention is on Togame now, pouty and dejected, before turning your head indignantly as you begin to lecture him about how you’re supposed to thank someone when they help you, and that it’s the nice thing to do.

In the heat of your lecture, you miss the way that Tomiyama and Togame also turn back to look at Suo.

In the darkness of the tunnel, Suo swears he can see their eyes glinting, and his smile only deepens. 

Their eyes, daring and territorial, only say one thing.

Ours. Ours. Ours. 

He had to admit, he wasn’t expecting this turn of events but he was intrigued now. 

And, it’s only after the three of you disappear that he realizes he never learned your name – your real name.

So, when he volunteers to take over the patrol where the Furin territory ends and the Shishitoren territory starts, who can blame him?

What Suo doesn’t know, though, is that after this little incident, you’re permanently banned from walking alone ever again.

(Of course, you’re not actually banned. But, you are given a scolding afterward – which, in your eyes, is rich coming from Togame and Tomiyama, but sure, whatever.)

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

The next time Suo sees you, it’s when he least expects it. 

You’re in Bofurin territory, with a small first-aid kit on your lap as you tend to the child in front of you. You’re smiling at the sniffling little boy as you wrap some gauze around his ankle, your fingers adept and swift, as if you’d done this countless times before.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it? You’re so strong!”

You ask him how it feels, and the little boy beams up at you, the tears in his eyes long gone and instead replaced with immense gratitude.

You smile down at him, playfully scolding him to be more careful as you pat his head softly.

And then Suo sees you hand him a lollipop — a lollipop — and it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

So, really, can you blame him for sneaking up behind you and whispering into your ear?

“What brings you to Bofurin territory, princess?”

You yelp in surprise, before turning around so fast that Suo worries if you gave yourself whiplash.

Once your blush has gone down and the surprise of seeing him wears off, you explain that you’re here to get some bread for Tomiyama from the Cactus bakery.

He’d been saying that he wanted fresh bread, but there weren’t any in Shishitoren that you knew of. And as soon as he mentioned the Cactus’s Anpan over on Bofurin's side of the tunnel, well, who could blame you for taking that opportunity to not only do something for him but also for yourself?

Which, of course, was to hopefully run into Suo.

“He sent you all the way over here to pick up bread for him?”

“Hm? No, of course not. This is a surprise for him!”

“I see – I was wondering why you didn’t have your guard dogs around…”

“My guard dogs?”

“Oh!” you laugh and Suo thinks it’s the most pleasant sound he’s heard in his life.

“You mean Tomiyama and Togame? No, they don’t know I’m here. It wouldn’t really be a surprise if they knew, right?”

Suo’s starting to see it now – why they care for you so much. But he wants to know more, so he asks about the kid you were tending to.

“Ah — I saw him playing with some kids and he took a nasty fall. I didn’t think it was right to let him go home without care, so I patched him up. I hope that’s okay?”

Suo finds that he really likes talking to you. He likes how expressive you are, how kind you are, and how thoughtful you are. And he finally learns your name. He likes that about you too – it’s cute.

So, naturally, he offers to escort you to Cactus – purely just to keep an eye on you, he convinces himself.

And when he escorts you back to the border, all your goodies in one hand and his arm in the other, well – 

He doesn’t care enough to find justification for his actions. He just really liked you – plain and simple.

When you let go of his arm, he’s already grieving the feeling of your body pressed to his side. 

You were warm, soft, and he’s sure that if he ever got the chance to taste your lips, sweet.

“Let’s exchange contact information! That way, you can be my guard dog when I’m here,” you say as you pull out your phone, and Suo’s so so glad that he ran into you today.

When he adds your contact to his phone, he puts you down as Princess.

When you add his contact to yours, you put him down as Guard Dog. 

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

After that, you and Suo try to meet up. But… well…

You don’t see the point in trying to hide it. You were, after all, your own person. You could think for yourself, make decisions for yourself, and speak up for yourself. You were so open to loving and the Shishitoren boys knew this – so why should you hide it?

And when you had something on your mind, you were determined to make it happen. So, you don’t see why it would be any different with Suo. You had met him twice now, and you wanted to keep seeing him. To keep talking to him. To maybe even date him.

But to Shishitoren, this was equivalent to losing you – and they could never let that happen.

So Shishitoren never lets you see him – and it’s not like they’re barricading you inside the Ori or blocking the entrance to the border (though, they’ll admit that the thoughts crossed their mind in one way or the other).

No. They do it in a way that they know will make you stay with them – by acting like big babies.

The first to fall was Arima – 

You’re about to leave to meet up with Suo when Arima runs into the Ori, cries of pain leaving his lips as he whines at how much it hurts. You drop your bag immediately, texting Suo a panicked text about how something came up and that you’re sorry but you’ve gotta cancel today. 

You have Arima sit down, all your supplies laid out next to you as you ask him what happened and – 

It’s a paper cut.

But he’s babbling about how deep it is and how much it stings and it takes forever to just disinfect it and wrap a bandage around it before you realize that half the day’s just flew by for a minor injury.

Second was Kanuma – when he got a bad haircut.

Third was Sako – when he suddenly, out of nowhere, began asking you for advice about how you would approach someone who you used to look up to but lost respect for, who you vowed to fight and win against, only to lose against them and have them apologize to you (you, obviously, struggled with what advice you could even give him).

Fourth was Tomiyama – when he lost his favorite pair of sneakers.

Fifth was Togame – when he lost an eating challenge for the first time.

“It’s for the good of Shishitoren,” they say as they prepare the next victim.

Eventually, you find yourself tending to almost all of Shishitoren’s wounds, whether physical or emotional, and you just can’t believe that they’re fighting against you and Suo so hard.

But, in between all of that, you and Suo still manage to sneak in hushed phone calls and sweet texts.

Always asking about how the other’s doing, always talking about how your day went. He looks forward to it, he realizes, laying in bed as he hears you start to slur the ends of your words, drifting off into sleep.

And you send him photos all the time – it could be of a cat you came across while on the way to the Ori, or a drink that you tried that you liked – and with each text, with each phone call, Suo finds himself becoming smitten with you. 

You, who would remind him to drink water and to at least eat something small to get through the day. You, who had perfect memory and would follow up with the things that he’d talked about days ago, just because you were interested and curious (he’d mentioned that there was a tea spot that he frequented in Makochi, and it only took a day or two later for you to bring it up again, this time with all sorts of questions and comments like “I looked at what they serve! Which one’s your favorite?” and “I’d love to go there with you sometime, Suo – if I ever get the chance”. He’d only said the name of this tea shop once, but you remembered). 

And sweet, kind, loving you – who seemed to know whenever he had a particularly tough day. You were so attentive to him, which was surprising because all your interactions were never in person, but it seemed that you could understand his mood just based on the extra second it took for him to answer the phone or the way he responded to your text. And the thing was that Suo was great at masking his emotions – an expert, even. But you, who could just sense these things about other people, were giving him the chance to open up if he so chose to. You never pressed, never battered him for an answer. Just a simple – “I feel like there’s something on your mind, but if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay! Just know that if you ever need a shoulder to lean on, I’ll be there for you Suo.”

And, above all, you never stop trying. You never stop trying to escape the clutches of Shishitoren to see him – though you apologize every time your plans get thwarted as if you both weren’t expecting the same outcome.

But Suo doesn’t see you again, for months – not until a huge fight breaks out, and you’re honestly the last one he expects to see rushing onto the aftermath of the battlefield with a backpack filled to the brim with medical supplies and a determined look on your face.

They didn’t know Shishitoren was going to get involved and fight alongside them, didn’t know that the aftermath was going to be this bad. But if Suo had known that you’d be running to meet everyone afterwards, well – 

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

He sees you a mile away, and he’s so relieved that you’re not hurt. That you’re up and moving. That you’re here. But he’s also surprised and caught off guard because – why were you here?

It’s then that he sees your bag, sees the way that you’ve got your hair up and out of your face, and the way that you’re scanning everyone up and down so fast that your eyes never stop moving. 

My little nurse, Suo thinks, rushing to the injured like the sweet princess she is.

Little did you know that as he was fighting, there were only 3 things revolving through his mind – Bofurin, Makochi, and you. He fought to protect those 3 things that were so very dear to his heart, and to be greeted with the sight of you after winning? Well, it couldn’t be anything less but a sign of his hard work. A reward, if you will.

He sees you run up to Umemiya, serious and purposeful, as you open your mouth and wait for a response. Umemiya, though very confused, gives you an answer that you seem satisfied with because you nod, then thank him, and now you’re running towards Suo, and you make eye contact, and he can’t wait for you to dote after him and take care of him and – 

You smile at him, scan his body, nod –  and walk right past him. You never stopped for him, actually. You just kept moving. Just kept walking.

And Suo just watches – he watches as you make your way over to where Shishitoren is laid out, watches as they all let out a sigh of relief when they see you safe and unharmed, watches as they start talking animatedly to you as you start setting up for aid.

And you’re standing there with a pained look in your eyes as you nod at their words halfheartedly, more focused on the injuries that they’re sporting on their bodies than the words coming out of their mouths. You’re going from person to person as fast as you can, and although Suo can’t hear you, he can read your lips as you tell every single person – “I’m here now. It’s okay. Thank you for fighting. I’ll take care of you.”

He watches as you get to Tomiyama and Togame, and sees the way your eyes start to water as they pat your head and tell you that they’re fine – even though you have eyes, you can see how hard they’ve fought. Instead, they’re fondly thanking you for coming all this way just to take care of them.

And suddenly, everything got a bit too real for Suo. A bit too scary.

Because he didn’t realize how hard he’d fallen for you, in between those two fateful meetings, the constant late-night phone calls, and the never-ending texts.

It hits Suo like a train. He wanted to be the one that you search for in the crowd. He wanted to be the one that you’re fussing over. He wanted you to patch him up. He wanted you.

He was in love with you.

And he shuts down – completely.

He goes silent, uncharacteristically so, to the point that Sakura and Nirei are starting to get worried.

“What’s wrong, Suo-san?”

“Suo, what’s the matter with you?”

It goes through one ear and out the other – no response, no indication that he’s even present at the moment.

It’s when you’re patching up the last member of Shishitoren that you feel the heat of an eye on you – and your body reacts before your mind can.

Suo’s name is the only thing running through your mind as you finish up as fast as you can – and you’re off.

You’re making your way to where all of Bofurin is sitting, just barely slipping out of the grasps of the Shishitoren boys.

It’s Togame, with his long limbs, who reaches out and puts a hand on your shoulder and it’s Tomiyama, with his fast reflexes, who has your hand in his.

“Princess, no–”

“Let me find Suo.”

“But you don’t even –”

“Choji, Jo – let me go.”

They hesitate. You’d never spoken to them like this before. Never used their first names before. Never been so cold before.

But they weren’t fools. Even if you tried to hide it, they’d seen the way you sneaked off to talk to him or the way you thought you were hiding your phone when you were responding to him. Anytime they’d bring something up that had even an inkling to do with Suo, you were excitedly adding in your input – all while stumbling over your words as you tried to be mysterious. 

(They’d done a test, actually. All they did was bring up the word tea and you were fighting for your life as you kept accidentally saying Suo’s name when talking about your friend. 

“Ah, Su– AH, I mean, my friend really likes this type of tea.”

“Oh! That’s S– my friend's favorite place in Makochi!”

They didn’t have the heart to tell you because, well – you really sucked at lying.)

And they realize, with heavy hearts, that you were never theirs to lock up in the Ori. You were so kind, so lovable, so sweet, because that’s just who you are as a person. 

You were protected, sure, and healthy, sure, but you weren’t happy.

You, who were the embodiment of everything that Shishitoren was working to protect, had made a choice and they weren’t respecting it the way that you respected them – and they were being, well, selfish.

And when they finally let you go, you sigh in relief. Making your way over to where Suo’s sitting, you yell out over your shoulder, with so much spite, so much anger, and so much love – 

“You act like I’m never coming back – stop whining like puppies!”

Togame’s and Tomiyama’s eyes widen in shock before they both laugh lightly at your words in disbelief.

You really knew how to scold them.

“... she’s talking about you.”

“... nah, she’s definitely talking about you.”

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

When you made your way over to Suo, you were met with guarded and curious stares from all of Bofurin. Too focused and too determined, you brush it off. You knew about the fight that they had with Shishitoren, sure, but you thought that they had patched everything up? And Shishitoren had fought with them for this big battle, so why the curiosity?

If only you knew the real reason everyone was staring at you.

Instead, you find yourself running past all of them with Suo’s name falling from your lips, and when you see him, he doesn’t respond.

You pause, dejected, before repeating his name.

No response. 

Now you’re worried – and scared.

You recognize Sakura and Nirei, based on how Suo had described them briefly, and you immediately begin asking them what happened.

“Sakura, Nirei – is Suo okay? Did he get hurt? Does he need first aid?”

You’re met with silence – and shock.

“H-huh? Do we know you?”

“U-umm – sorry, have we met before?”

You pause at their response, looking at them confused.

You blink once, then twice, then three times – before glancing at Suo.

Unresponsive and unperturbed.

You introduce yourself slowly, giving Sakura and Nirei the chance to remember you – because they must’ve heard your name at least once, right?

They hadn’t.

And now you’re standing there with hundreds of eyes on you, as you come to terms with the fact that maybe … maybe you’d been wrong this whole time.

You clear your throat before timidly asking a question that you fear you already know the answer to.

“Did he um… did he not tell you about me? Uh… about us?”

And suddenly – everything goes to shit.

Shishitoren rises up in arms, walking over to where you are because why did you look so confused and why was Suo ignoring their beloved princess – 

All of Bofurin is staring at you with their mouths wide open, processing the words you’ve just said –

Sakura’s spluttering, desperately trying to form words as he continues to just point back and forth from you to Suo with shaky hands – 

Nirei’s got his notebook in his hand, flipping through it like a madman because how could he miss something like this, and had Suo ever talked about you? – 

Suo’s unresponsive, still – 

And then, to top it all off, Kiryu gasps because he’s finally solved it. He’d seen a text on Suo’s phone, so brief and so quick, but he was sure that the person Suo was texting was – 

“Oh! You’re the one he’s been texting! You’re Princess!”

At Kiryu’s words, you snap. 

And no one, not even Togame and Tomiyama, had ever seen you this angry, this upset, this livid.

You weren’t expecting him to go around screaming your name all over Makochi, but what you did expect was at the very least maybe his friends to know. Was that so absurd? You never tried to hide your feelings for Suo from Shishitoren (They tried so hard to stop it) so why wasn’t it reciprocated? Did he not feel the same way? Had you looked too deep into his actions and created a fantasy in your mind? Did you not really know him as well as you thought? 

Or worse – had he been toying with you? 

Oh, you were pissed – and poor Suo didn’t have a clue.

You go to stand in front of him, eerily calm and sickeningly sweet as you call his name one more time.

“Hayato Suo.”

Now that – that brings him back to his senses. You watch him blink in succession as he grounds himself, before his eye darts to you, to Furin, to Shishitoren – and he quickly puts the pieces together before letting out a stiff laugh.

“Ah – I was hoping to introduce you properly to everyon–”

“Am I a joke to you, Hayato?”

Suo freezes at your words. 

How could you, who had unknowingly wormed your way into his heavily guarded heart, be a joke?

But he realizes now – and he feels, for one of the few times in his life, stupid.

Because you love with your heart on your sleeve, and Suo loves with his heart tucked away.

And really, Suo should’ve known, because you’re you — you who gave Shishitoren something to protect and to hold close to their hearts, safe from danger and harm’s way.

You press on, fighting through the anger and the embarrassment and the fear you feel rising inside of you.

“Tell me Hayato, answer me. Was I? Hm? Did you have fun?”

“No, I –”

“Every call, every text – did that mean nothing to you? Was I just being delusional?”

“Wait I –”

You’re so close to him now, softly jabbing your finger into his chest as your words begin to get more and more shaky.

“Do you feel powerful, Hayato? Making a Shishitoren girl fall in love with you–”

You stop yourself, teary-eyed and vulnerable, and you feel so stupid. Because what hurts more than anything is giving someone all your love, all your time, all your energy – all for it to have been for nothing. You thought he felt the same, truly. But now? All you wanted was to walk away from all of this, walk away from Bofurin, and never ever look back.

He grabs your hand, desperately, as your words sink in. He wants to – no, needs to make sure that he’s not just hearing things. That he’s not just imagining it.

“You … love me?”

You pause, taking the chance to actually look at him. You see hope on his face, and you furrow your eyebrows in response.

“... is this another joke? Of course, I love you, you idiot. You would’ve been the first one I ran to but your leader said you guys were all patched up already so I –”

Everyone’s eyes turn to Umemiya, who shrivels under the attention and wordlessly mouths an “I didn’t know!”

But your eyes are only on Suo’s, and Suo’s is only on yours.

And Suo lets you see him, truly see him, for who he is. He doesn’t shy away from your stare, doesn't put on a mask, doesn’t push his feelings into the box that’s been his safe haven for so many years. 

Your eyes flicker with uncertainty and fear, but you convince yourself to try one more time. Just one last time. 

“Hayato Suo, I really do love you,” you whisper, so slowly, so hesitantly, so scared.

Then, with everyone’s eyes on the both of you, Suo slides one hand to the small of your back, and the other to cradle your face.

He wanted to learn how to love with his heart on his sleeve – just like you.

“… again.”

“… I lov—”

His lips cut you off, and honestly, you’re not even mad. Not when he’s pulling you flush to his body, his hand slipping to the back of your neck, and your fingers grasping at the collar of his jacket.

Black, with green embroidery.

“I love you, too – but I’m afraid there’s too many eyes here for me to show you how deeply I feel for you, Princess – I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Dazed, all you can manage is a soft nod and a flutter of your eyelashes before pulling his lips back to yours.

Suo smiles into the kiss. He was right, you were as sweet as he thought you’d be.

[charredpages]

[Alt text] ten screenshots of text posts by the user themme_fatale on Instagram. The text reads:

(1/10)

Do you remember the exact moment that anti-masking stopped being a far-right talking point

And became advice you were willing to follow?

(2/10)

I try to make the ways I communicate about COVID as compassionate and non-judgemental as possible because I understand that we have all been failed in this and my primary anger is always upwards.

BUT

I also need you to understand - if you are not taking precautions, you are aligning yourself with eugenicists.

The person who actively says “fuck disabled people they deserve to 💀” and never masks, and the person who never masks because “It’s annoying and besides-no one else is” are BOTH devaluing people’s lives.

(3/10)

And that might feel confronting for some of you, and I know the knee-jerk reaction is probably going to be to deflect by accusing me of “shaming people” or whatever.

I’m not shaming anyone though - it’s just uncomfortable to sit with because if you’re the kind of person who follows me chances are you don’t actually want to be engaging in eugenics.

And re-engaging with the idea that COVID is not only still around, but still actively dangerous is asking a lot of you when the alternative is the comfort of denial.

Especially when so many of the tools to keep ourselves and each other safe have been taken away from us. But the thing is none of that is actually a reason not to act.

(4/10)

There are people IN YOUR COMMUNITY relying on you to take precautions so that they don’t d1e.

(5/10)

With love, and compassion for the fact that this shit is hard - ignorance is running out as an excuse. It’s time to do better, and help your mates do better too.

People in your community shouldn’t have to constantly remind you not to put their lives in danger. Surely you can see that’s a pretty fucked up dynamic, right?

(6/10)

We shouldn’t have to push so hard on “it’s good for you to protect yourself too!” Like it still absolutely is, but saving the lives of people in your community should actually be enough to motivate you to act.

It’s genuinely fucked up to be ok with a whole proportion of the population being either being locked in their homes indefinitely or at risk of 💀 on the daily.

(7/10)

It should be considered more socially awkward to engage in eugenics by k1lling and isolating disabled people in your own community than it is to put on a mask

The fact that it’s not should embarrass all of us until we change it.

(8/10)

It should be considered more selfish to put people’s lives at risk than to ask to be kept safe

Your choices can change or reinforce that culture.

(9/10)

Government inaction puts a weapon in your hand

Pretending it’s not there puts us all in danger

(10/10)

Why do you require a mandate to care about other people?

[lets-get-kraken-boys]

💖✨ Just a yandere woman CEO obsessed with her adorable assistant <3 ✨💖

[⚠️WARNINGS⚠️: Not proofread I just wanted to post something because I miss you guys :3, LESBIANS this is a woman loving woman fic! Reader is portrayed as a female, 🔞 gets a little raunchy 18+ near the end with some kissing and touching but you don’t go too far, yandere, some talk of an affair but not regarding Reader or our lovely Ms. CEO]

Imagine an incredibly strict older woman who has learned to leave love and men in the past. She’s been running this company all on her own for several years now, it’s her life’s work and her pride and joy. She’s married to her work since she wouldn’t want to be married to anything else at the moment. Men only disappoint, so what's the point of even trying to form a relationship with one. After all, she's so well known now that anyone who is trying to form bonds with her now is after her fortune or her estate. A waste of time.

Then, she met you.

You came to her agency one afternoon for a meeting of your boss' company and hers, something about collaborating together to build up the value of both of your stocks. Whatever, it wasn't like she needed extra cash in her pocket, but she was willing to listen if he proved to be entertaining.

Though she wasn't really looking forward to creating a partnership with the obviously money-hungry man, her eyes widened when he brought you into the room after their introductions. You were his assistant at the time, and he made sure to get good use out of you. She could tell he ran you ragged from hell and back. You slouched a little and you looked quite uncomfortable in the scarlet red stiletto heels he no doubt required you to wear. However, through the exhaustion, she could see your bright eyes, gorgeous smile, and beauty beyond it all. It was more than beauty though. She felt like she'd seen you before in a dream, like she's known you for a lifetime and more. You're so familiar, yet she knowns she's never met you before.

Despicable. To force such a stunning woman such as yourself run ragged around the town. She could provide so much better for you, she would make you see that.

During the meeting all she could do was stare at you. How you fixed your hair back out of your face as you wrote notes on your laptop, how you answered you boss' questions with hesitancy and a sort of weak tone. She wanted to snap his head off when he barked at you to speak up and "show some respect for your employer". Yet he acted like the perfect, charming gentleman towards herself. She couldn't take this anymore. She called a 15 minute break and said she needed a moment to think over his "compelling" proposition.

As you walked off, she discreetly trailed behind. You headed to the restroom and she made a point to hang outside by the communal coffeemaker. When you came out, she came up to you with a Styrofoam cup and a gentle smile. Just seeing the way your pretty eyes brighten up at the kind gesture made her heart soar, and the shiver that raced down her spin when your fingers brushed against her made her feel electric.

You two chatted for the remainder of the break, and she strategically dropped the question over you and your boss' situation. She provided her shoulder to cry on as you lamented your woes over you boss, how he's...nice yeah right but he can be a little tough at times. The position pays well enough and it's nice to not have to work in the hot sun all day as your income, but it would be nice to not have to run around the town and retrieve miniscule things as his little lap dog all the time.

She simply slipped you a her card and gave you wink (you couldn't help but notice there was a strange, darker look in her eyes as she scanned you up and down) and told you to stop by whenever you felt the urge, but to look at the back of the card when you head out. As she walked off to go deny that selfish bastard's shit of an idea, you looked down at the card. On paper was a date and time for two days from now right below her name and the address of her agency.

~~~

It had been three months since that fateful day and she couldn't be happier.

She held a private meeting, just the two of you she can't wait to start calling these meetings a date, those two days later. She offered you a position as her personal assistant at her company instead of your current employer. When you thought of declining, she passed a piece of paper over to you that read a number with more zeros than you could process. She said this is what you would make a year with full benefits and plenty of opportunity for growth as it would be the base amount you'd make. It was easily triple your current salary.

With little hesitation, you put in your two weeks with your company, and with a swift call on from her side, you never had to go back to that company to fulfill those two weeks. She said he owed her a favor of some kind and he would repay it through letting you be free she actually found juicy blackmail material of him and one of his employees for a scandalous affair against his wife, but she would never tell you that.

In no time, you begun being her little pet. The job was great at first; she treated you with great respect, patience, and the tasks she gave you weren't even that difficult. It was like a dream come true. Then, it begun to change.

Suddenly, she enforced a dress code policy that felt like it only applied to you. It was mandatory for "all women or female presenting" read just for you workers in her establishment to done pencil skirts, sleek high heels, and a blazer that cut down deep into the cleavage. Don't worry about not meeting the dress code, she'll help you out! When you explained you didn't have many clothes of this variety in your closet, she quickly cleared her day and went on a shopping spree with you. Luxury brands, private fitting rooms, tailors and seamstresses all around took your measurements and were sent off to construct a dozen and more outfits for you to wear in the office. All the while, Ms. CEO sat and watched you model the attire. If the skirt wasn't short enough, she'd direct them to hem a few inches higher. If the cut wasn't deep enough on the blazer, she'd come in close and open the blazer to her desired bust viewing. You couldn't help but heat up tremendously as she worked her way around you, staring at your everything, and touching what felt like all of your intimate parts.

After that was done, she took you to a decadent lunch at a high class restaurant where the waiters and chefs seemingly all knew her by first name. She finished her small portion rather quickly, but she made a point to move her chair next to yours and chat beside you. You felt uncomfortable with her being so close and not eating, but she insisted you continue your food, saying she liked to watch you eat as the expressions you made at the exquisite food filled her more than any other meal could. She kept it to herself that it was mostly because it fueled her desire to know that she could provide for you. To feed you and clothe you. It was paradise to finally have someone to spoil.

At the end of the day, she took you back to your home in her private limo with her driver at the helm. She walked you to your front door, thanked you for indulging her and for such a wonderful day, and bid you a good night. She kissed the back of your hand, leaving behind a bloody red mark of a lipstick kiss as she marked you as hers. Her cute little assistant. She couldn't wait to make you her wife, and that joy carried her home the entire drive home.

~~~

One last idea: Our lovely Ms. CEO needs to attend a super ritzy, widely news pressed, gala of some sort, but she needs a partner to go with her! Everyone else is bringing a date, she'd be mortified she's could care less what the press thinks to be sent alone for the seventh year in a row.

So, she asks you to go with her as her sexy arm candy date. You reluctantly agree since you're just that nice and would hate her to feel humiliated going alone. :((

She's got you right where she wants you, darling~

So, you two go. She picks you up the day before, takes you to get a custom dress made personally for you. Skimpy and tight for her to eye fuck you and devour you all night, but still classy enough that you'll be the most elegant person attending.

You two walk in with the interviewers dotted around going nuts for her showing up with a date this year. You flush and make a point to clarify you aren't dating, but she pulls you along with a scoff at the newscasters.

She pulls you inside, and you two mingle, you never being allowed to stray from her side. She takes you over to the fancy bar, and loads you up with drink after drink, saying she wants you to enjoy the evening and have fun. However, with every drink she pushes on you, you realize too late that she's hardly even nursed the first drink she got an hour ago. You feel light headed and are no doubt way past tipsy.

She pulls you off with a grin, coddling you and holding your face, asking if you were alright in a babying tone. After meekly nodding your head, she yanks you over to the dance floor. She pulls you in close, and since she's at least a head taller than you, she makes sure that you rest your head on her breast. She sways you back and forth on your wobbling knees and you feel hot. You can feel every part of her body smooshed up against yours.

You whine at her hand gripping your hips as they drift lower to your thighs and ass. She whispers sweet nothings in your ears, pressing her red lipstick-covered lips against your ear when she nibbles.

You can't stop her as she pulls you away from the crowd and back to her limo. Once inside, she's kissing you senseless and maneuvering one of her hands to keep you shoved deep into her open-mouthed kiss. All you can acknowledge is her tongue stroking yours in a sensual curl and her other hand shimmying up the deep slit in your fancy dress to dance her fingers around your cute white panties.

You're starting to wonder if the money is really worth it anymore.

Can you guys tell I have no idea how big companies or money work? Lol, no, this was in no way, shape, or form meant to be a realistic view of how CEOs or big companies run. I just want a sexy dominate woman to adore me obsessively, pay for my wants and my desire for pretty dresses, and screw me senseless til I see stars.

Teehee~! ✨💖

Love,

Kraken 🐙

[rememberwren]

A Dichotomy of Thought || 6

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts

Johnny and Simon argue.

CW: mentions of dub con/non con; domestic abuse; ableist slurs

-

Just when you settle in at your job he starts showing up at the diner to terrorize you, like an illness you cannot shake or a cloud you cannot outrun. Maybe he knows that that’s where you’re hiding your phone.

Maybe he knows that you have almost two thousand dollars stashed in your locker in the break room.

Either way, there is no rhyme or reason to his visits. He sets a pattern (once a week) and then breaks it, coming two days in a row, and then doesn’t visit for a whole month, until you are constantly off balance, always dreading the sound of the bell over the door.

Today when he comes, he seats himself at the bar where you are required to talk to him. He watches you work, delighting in the way your hands shake while you pour his coffee. You’ve never met someone who feeds off of fear like this, who gorges themselves on your flinches and trembling.

You think about shattering the coffee pot and taking one of the shards to his throat. You long to slit open his bloated belly and steal back all the feeling he has stolen from you. But you are useless, neutered by the fear that still remains, the fear yet to be eaten. One day…

“This one’s new,” he says, nodding to the new girl: young, with hair in a glossy, gleaming braid over her shoulder.

You tell him her name. How long she’s been working there now. That she’s nice. He hums, filing all the knowledge away in his head and dubbing it all useless by remarking, “Pretty.”

Your hand clenches into a tight fist around the rag you are using to wash down the bar. You don’t know why that bothers you. He hasn’t called you pretty since the early days when he was still trying to win you out from under your family’s thumb—like you wouldn’t have gone anywhere with anyone to be free of them, at the time (You’d had no idea that there were worse creatures out there than the ones who raised you). Maybe there’s some sick part of you that still wants to be wanted by him, that still wants to be pretty.

“Where’s Jackie?” he asks. Then, just to make your head spin: “You’ve been texting her more lately.”

Your skin flushes hot and then cold. You want to ask how he knows that, how he knows at all about the contact in your phone you named JACKIE when you keep your phone in your storage locker at work at all times, charging it in the breakroom, never to bring it home.

You hadn’t been stupid enough to save Simon’s number under his own name. No, God might not have given you enough sense to fill a teacup, but He gave you enough to fill a thimble. You just had to hope that would be enough. You had to hope that you could pull Jackie aside the next time you were both working together and that she would be willing to cover for you, should your boyfriend ask her about your ‘texts’. You hated bringing anyone else into the network of your own lies, but wrote it off as a necessary pain.

“It’s her day off,” you tell him.

He hums, doubtful.

The bell over the door rings.

Johnny looks thin and tired, arm crutch in place as Simon holds the door open for him. He’s dressed for the warm weather in a t-shirt and shorts which show the surgical scars at his knee, vivid purple lines in the fluorescent lights of the diner.

Simon spots you first, and a peculiar look comes over his face, one that you hope your boyfriend doesn’t see because you would have no way to explain it. You wouldn’t call it fondness, but it’s one of recognition certainly, a deeper understanding than you can just pass off as having run into each other a few times in the building.

Johnny sees you next and his face brightens. The strangest thought comes to you: I have made a friend. Then his eyes naturally flicker to your boyfriend, and his entire demeanor transforms—into one of such strange, dark, poignant delight, as if he and your boyfriend are old pals who have run into each other after years apart.

It makes your stomach turn over, and you don’t know why.

You’ve been silent too long. Your boyfriend has noticed, his head turning to take in the new patrons. He asks, voice mild and amused: “You know them?”

“They’re our neighbors. 5C.”

He sits up straighter. “No shit? That’s the cripple you almost killed?”

“He’s not a cripple,” you mutter.

“Sure looks like one from here.” Your boyfriend gives a little salute in greeting.

Johnny makes a beeline for the bar, crutch thudding rhythmically against the tiled floor with every purposeful step. He sits in the seat beside your boyfriend, removing his arm crutch and shifting it to rest on his other side against the edge of the bar. Simon reaches out and adjusts it to keep it from sliding over.

Simon slips into the seat beside him, quiet and solemn, looking like a man braced for bad news.

“Hey there, neighbor. Sorry about all that mess in the parking lot the other day,” your boyfriend says. He jerks a thumb toward you. “She never should have been behind the wheel if we’re being honest.”

“Then why the hell was she?” Johnny wonders, accent thicker than usual, rough. His tone is mild, but the grin pinned on his face is like a wolf’s: hungry for blood. Dangerous. It is so at odds with his happy demeanor that it makes goosebumps rise on your arms. For the first time since you’ve met him, Johnny frightens you.

Your boyfriend is no idiot. He senses the thinly veiled malevolence beneath Johnny’s words but doesn’t understand it (and neither do you). Maybe Johnny really is still upset about almost getting squished like a bug beneath your car, but in that case, his anger at your boyfriend is misplaced. You turn away, grabbing two empty mugs, shoulders tensing. Waiting for all that anger to find somewhere to go.

Your boyfriend shifts on his seat, sighing through his nose a little. He doesn’t like to admit this. “I had some trouble a while back. Got my license revoked.”

Johnny coos, condescending and mean: “Bad luck.”

“Johnny,” Simon says, voice flat with a warning. You place the mugs down in front of him and Johnny, your hands shaking. Reaching for the coffee pot, you fill both their cups to the hallway mark, leaving room for sugar and cream. Some sloshes over the edge of Johnny’s cup.

“Stupid. Stupid,” you mutter, reaching for your rag to wipe it away. The three of them pay you no mind.

“We should have you over. I get a couple of close friends together on Saturdays and we play poker. You’re welcome to join us,” your boyfriend says, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

You blanch, rag dropping uselessly to the counter from your lax hand. The idea of Johnny and Simon being in your personal space, in the place where Bad Things Happen is a nightmare. Though you know they wouldn’t, (good people. They are good people), the thought of them taking place in Saturday poker rituals makes you feel sick. Fresh in your mind is your dream from the other night when you had ridden Simon until your boyfriend passed you on to someone new, and the thought of it becoming a reality is—it’s too much.

You leave your body.

“What do you think, baby?” he asks you, smiling. “Would you like to have them over? Would that be fun?”

“Yes,” your mouth answers numbly, because it has to.

“Then it’s settled. First deal is at noon and we play through the evening.”

“We’ll fucking be there,” Johnny says, words sounding adjacent to a threat.

Your boyfriend doesn’t stay long after that. Perhaps a part of him feels threatened by the presence of Simon, or perhaps he’s grown bored with tormenting you, but eventually he places money (your money. It’s your money. It’s your fucking money—) on the bar top and leaves, the bell ringing at his exit.

Johnny turns his blue eyes onto you. The wolf-like quality that had frightened you so much has fled, receded back into the man, no longer needed. But you know it is there. It’s in every man.

His voice is remarkably gentle when he asks you: “Lass, are you alright?”

“Yes,” your mouth says.

“You’re crying,” says Simon simply, reaching for a napkin to hand you. Your hand reaches for it numbly and uses it to pat at your face.

“It’s just something in my eye.” Your hands stuff the napkin in your apron and pull out your pad and pen, hand poised to write, eyes empty and unseeing. “What can I get for you?”

-

“He’s beatin’ her,'' Johnny says mildly. He waits until they are inside Simon’s car, stuck in traffic on the way back to the apartment. The heat is stifling, the AC not yet working after the time the car spent baking in the sunlight of the diner’s parking lot.

Simon reaches out and adjusts the knobs, turning them more toward himself. Johnny doesn’t like the cold much anymore, making Simon dread the thought of winter coming to the city, of snow. He can’t imagine what it will be like to be Johnny then, surrounded by ice all over again. Clearing his throat, he says: “I know.”

Johnny’s head snaps over to look at Simon, and the expression on his face is one akin to absolute betrayal. It’s the deepest of hurts, like Simon has reached out across the center console and slapped him. Johnny’s never given him that look in his entire life, and Simon could have gone the rest of his life without seeing it.

“You know. You know. And just what have you done to help her?”

“Help her?” Simon asks, bracing one elbow against the driver’s side door and massaging at his temples where a headache has been growing for the last two days. “How the hell do you want me to do that?”

“I can think of a few ways,” Johnny says darkly. “A few accidents that could happen to that cunt next door—”

“No,” Simon snaps. “Don’t even think about it, Johnny. Not only are you in no condition, but it’s fucking illegal.”

“So was half the shite we did in the name of Queen and Country,” Johnny hisses.

“We were following orders,” Simon says, hackles rising. “There’s a difference.”

“The difference is that now you’d have to use your own mind instead of letting someone else do the thinking fer you,” Johnny says, anger making him cruel.

Simon grits his teeth together. The car inches forward in traffic, and it takes all of his self control not to slam on the gas and rear end the car in front of him just to end this fucking conversation with Johnny.

He takes a deep breath through his nose, aiming for calm. He tries more sense, even if it feels like pushing a boulder uphill: “We have no resources to help her, and no idea that she even wants help.”

“Of course she wants help!” Johnny cries. “Why the fuck wouldn’t she?”

“Lots of reasons,” Simon says, thinking of his mother. What had been her reason for staying with his father for so long, for always being willing to open the door to him when he came knocking? Children. Money. Her religion. “You’re thinking of it in black and white but it isn’t. Nothing is.”

“Some things are. Some things are just wrong.” And then, voice laden with disappointment: “Yer a coward, Simon Riley.”

Simon feels these words in his chest, like Johnny has shaped them into a knife and jammed them between his ribs. Simon stares at the license plate in front of them until the numbers and letters blur together, until his eyes burn. His jaw aches from biting back so many hurtful things that he knows he could say, that he wants to say, just to hurt Johnny the way Johnny has hurt him.

But that’s just the imprint of his father on him, like a smudged thumbprint on the glass of his DNA. He’s a better man than that.

He knows it, even if Johnny doesn’t anymore.

[miyukisu]

Need Your Lips On Mine .ᐟ

❤︎ | You'd think he'd be more enthusiastic to get his hands on you because of the whole 'secret relationship' thing, but maybe it's time to turn the tables (2.3k wc) ╰ feat. osamu dazai (bsd) x afab! reader

kinktober entry no. 9 | kinktober masterlist

tags - reader works at the cafe, dom/sub dynamics, dazai is mean and annoying, edging, implied mutual masturbation, semi-public smex, toys, light bdsm (he's bound by the hands lol), blowjob, no p in v, p*rn with plot, reader is feisty, profanity

minors do not interact

"Take your hand off... I swear... they're gonna catch us sooner or later."

Your words fell on deaf ears as one bandaged hand kept itself under your skirt and on your ass. "If you keep quiet, then maybe no one will get caught. Hm?"

You let up, settling for nasty side glances at him every once in a while instead. Of course, you were met with Dazai's cheeky smile. This bastard really thought that by having a secret relationship—he could be annoying anytime he wanted as long as it was done in secret.

His job required to keep the existence of your relationship confidential—at least that's what he said. You were the cashier at the cafe located beneath their detective agency's office. Dazai was a detective, that's all you knew and that was more than enough apparently.

A secret is a secret, you figured.

Kunikida was starting to give you weird looks from the booth. You flashed an awkward smile and tried waving at him, failing to look normal.

Well... maybe Kunikida knows.

Why else would Dazai be standing behind you while you were at the register? It was either you were up to no good or Dazai's begging you to forget about his hefty tab.

"Who're you waving at?" he whispers into your ear. You failed to realize how close he leaned down to you.

"Kunikida. He's starting to realize something funny's going on."

"Funny you say?" Dazai repeats before humming in thought. Whatever it was that was running through the detective's head—it probably wasn't anything good or innocent.

Dazai finally lets go of your ass, opting to drape an arm across your shoulders instead. It wasn't anything unusual—surprisingly—because Dazai has been known to be 'friendly' with the cafe staff.

He calls the attention of all the customers i.e. Kunikida, Atsushi, Kenji, and Ranpo who is sound asleep. "I'll be accompanying our cute little cashier on her break. Don't miss us!"

It was highly unlikely that anyone would. Kunikida doesn't even give him the time of day while Atsushi offered an uneasy smile. Kenji was his usual upbeat self and Ranpo—was still fast asleep.

────────────

It felt like an eternity of tongues clashing and breathless whispers blending into each other. Your hands were all over his lanky build while his hands remained firm on your behind. If you were to guess which body part he liked the most on a woman—you'd probably get it right.

Dazai pulled away first—not that he was breathless or anything; he just wanted to see what expression you had on your face.

"Someone's eager," he says in a lilted tone.

"Oh stop it. You disappear for a week... A WEEK!"

He laughs it off—disappearing for a week is business as usual for him. "Shhh... I'm here now though, aren't I? Besides, I find it quite cute how excited you are to get your hands on me."

That earned him a weak punch on the chest from you. "You're so annoying."

Dazai lets out another small laugh, amused by your irritation at him. "Oh, darling. You haven't seen the worst of it."

Knowing him and all the shit he pulls, those words should've made you run for the hills soon as you heard it. Dazai leans in, breath fanning the sweaty skin of your neck. It felt cool against the humid air of the cafe's storage room.

"I've got an idea," he whispers. "Don't move, okay?"

You hear a slight ruffling. Perhaps he was retrieving something from his coat pocket. Then, you feel something cold—something metallic—drag along your thigh. Though, you were unsure what it could be.

The feeling kept getting higher and higher, until it was at a place where you most dreaded it would reach. Dazai smiled as he dragged the unknown metallic object against the fabric of your panties.

"Wanna guess what that is, darling?"

You had a hint, but you decided not to indulge him in his silly games.

"You don't know?" he asks. "Well, I hope this helps!"

Dazai, skilled with his fingers, swiped the fabric out of the way and plunged the vibrator in one fluid motion.

"Good thing you got insanely wet from kissing me huh?"

Your first instinct was to close your legs, but Dazai was quick to put a knee between them. "W-what the fuck are you doing?"

"Thought I'd make things exciting," he says with an irritatingly bright smile. "Also because I have to go now."

Grabbing him by the collar, you pull him down to your level. "The fuck you mean you're going? You're seriously leaving me high and dry after basically ghosting me?"

He gives you a half-assed 'apologetic' smile. "I won't be too long. You can do anything to me once I come back."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

────────────

The rest of your shift was—to say the least—downright miserable. Of course, the stupid vibrator could be controlled by him. You weren't sure if it was purely coincidence or if he was secretly watching you, but the damn thing seemed to turn on whenever a customer would come up to the counter.

On the times you thought you could finally sit down and relax a bit, he'll make sure to turn it up a notch and give you a good surprise.

He gave you no reprieve as his antics continued until your shift ended and it was time to clean up. You were the only employee left because it just so happens to be the day when the most arduous clean up task fell into your care.

Once you heard the bell at the door ring and the familiar set of footsteps, you were ready to yell a certain man's ear off.

"Hey, darling."

"You son of a—"

Turning around, you were met with a smiling Dazai with a bouquet of flowers in his clutches. Normally, any other woman receiving flowers from a lover would be over the moon, but not you. Dazai was quite the unconventional man. Flowers were a tricky thing to interpret.

His smile turned lopsided before he slowly approached you. "I got you flowers."

"I can see that."

He chuckles again. "Can't you at least act like you're happy about it?"

"I don't want flowers," you exclaim.

He sighs, placing he beautiful arrangement on the counter beside you. "What do you want then, pretty?"

"You."

Dazai laughs a little louder this time as if what you said was so hilarious to him. "Me? Little ol' me? My sweet thing wants nothing else but me?"

"You're so annoying."

A large hand pats your unkempt hair. "Yes, I know, darling. You tell me almost everyday."

"Liar. I haven't seen you in a week. Besides—what the fuck is up with the vibrator? Do you know how many customers I've had toda—"

He silences you once more, placing a slender finger over your lips. "You get to do anything you want to me now though. Isn't that right, darling?"

The realization hits a bit too late, but it does, and small smile creeps on your face. This was going to be revenge for disappearing and for the stunt earlier.

You ask him to get the vibe out and he obeys without complaint—the metal apparatus stuffed in his pocket again. You hadn't realized how drenched you were until it was pulled out. But that doesn't matter right now. You were a woman on a mission.

No words left your mouth as you made quick work of his belt. Dazai's eyes never left your hands as he smiled to himself.

"Getting to the good part already hm?" he insinuates. But you don't respond, only silently walking behind him to bind his hands with his own belt. You've learned plenty of things from him and this was one of those.

"Ah hah... we're doing that kind of thing huh?" he says, continuing to talk seemingly to himself.

You walk right in front of him again, grabbing his collar like you did earlier today. With his face closer now, he should understand the situation he's in. "Be a good boy for me, okay?" you say before planting a soft kiss on his chapped lips.

Thrill and excitement coursed through every fiber of his being as you roughly pushed him back against the counter. He made himself weightless and easy to push around because this was entertainment for him as much as it was for you.

But the glint in your eyes tells him this wasn't simply any kind of entertainment for you. You had a plan and him not knowing anything for once gave him a rush he had gotten only in the past.

With the strength you had in your arms, you pried his vest and button up open—albeit you had to carefully unbutton some of the stubborn ones.

"It's kinda hot seeing you take control for once," he says.

Once all of the buttons were out of the way, you were met by his mostly bandaged abdomen. Even you were unsure of what was beneath these strips, but he was adamant to keep them on.

You ran your palms over his body, stopping at his heaving chest. "I've never seen you out of breath before. Are you that excited?"

"Am I? You should feel my dick," he counters.

You try your hardest to stifle a laugh by kissing his bandaged chest instead. The soft gesture seemingly had a soothing effect on him as his breathing slowed a bit and his expression mellowed out—like you had put him in a trance.

Then the kisses went lower and lower—his chest, stomach, until you were just above the hem of his trousers. His adam's apple bobbed, swallowing in anticipation.

"Wow," you mutter, palming at his aching erection. "You weren't lying huh?"

His laugh came out choppier than usual as if his typical air of confidence had been blown away. Dazai tried playing it cool. "Can you blame me?"

"Guess not," you shrug nonchalantly before working on the button of his pants. Thanks to having the belt off, his bottoms came off pretty easily—not that you needed it all the way off.

Palming at his hardening cock after the thin fabric of his boxers made his mouth water and his palms clammy. Even Dazai was starting to wonder what the fuck was going on with him. Perhaps it was the thick air inside the stuffy room or because someone was finally putting his ass in its place.

Whichever it was, it only served to make him exhilarated.

"This looks pretty painful," you coo at him. Dazai would have loved to gently caress your head as you knelt in front of him so sweetly, but alas, his hands were still bound behind his back.

He found it hotter how well you restrained him actually.

"Yeah, looks like you should do something about it no?"

In response, you pull the pesky fabric out of he way, freeing his leaking cock. Truth be told, you weren't expecting for him to be fully hard after all that. Dazai was rather... hard to impress—for a lack of a better term.

You swipe his weeping tip with a thumb before spreading pre all along his length. Looking up at him, you ask the question: "My hand or my mouth?"

"Be serious, darling. You know you need both to get all of me."

"Fine. Be a smartass and you get neither."

He lets out a labored breath. "Jeez. Fine. I want your mouth. Pretty please?"

For as much of a pain in the ass he is, hearing him be so compliant for once made him hard to deny. You rewarded him with a small kitty lick on his tip—to test the waters—before licking the underside of his length.

You've learned to pay attention to those spots. Normally, Dazai was good at hiding things, but it was easy to catch on his sensitive points. In the bedroom, with you, he was an open book.

You watched him—how his eyes were fixated on you—while you went down on him. It made you particularly satisfied seeing him throw his head back in pleasure.

It egged you on to fit more of him and to go faster. You gagged more than once and it was messy—really fucking messy.

Just how he liked it.

He had grown uncharacteristically quiet which was usually a good sign in this case. It meant you were doing good—so good in fact, that it shut him up.

Feeling his dick twitch, you knew he was painfully close. But he isn't getting that orgasm he craves so easily. No way.

Before he could bust his load, you pull away—a string of saliva connecting your plump lips to his reddish tip.

Innocently, you stared up at him as if you've done nothing wrong—as if you didn't blue ball him just now.

"Hah... darling... I was so close..."

He sounded so breathless... so desperate. His heart fell to his stomach when you got off your knees and dusted yourself off. Was that it? Was he going to be left standing there with his dick out and aching?

You turn away from him, walking a couple of steps. He could tell you were fiddling with your uniform, but he was concerned more about his predicament down there.

"Thought you were the only one who could edge me?"

He tries to get out of the restraint while you weren't looking, but that blowjob quite literally sucked the strength out of his body.

But all of his movements were halted once you turned around, blouse open and tits out all for him to see.

"Well, two can play that game, darling. Sit tight while you watch me, alright? Gonna play with myself for a bit. Hope ya don't mind."

You tried copying his sing-song tone, but no matter what kind of lighthearted tone you use, there probably isn't one that can fix the frustrated frown on his face.

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note I'm kinda tired of writing p in v so here you go!! Some good ol' edging and teasing for the soul!!

[rationaliity]

reunion | dr ratio x gn. reader ( 18+ )

this is !! actually kinda cute !! best friends to lovers ! literally its not obvious that they want each other until two paragraphs before the sex, so.. sorry about that, teehee. but i just thought that the bickering was cute and i left subtle clues that they wanted each other. tags : finger-fucking, penetration, pretty vanilla sex, reader's intimate area is only described as a ' hole ', best friends to lovers, mutual pining, loving sex, missionary position. ratio is kind of ooc here but who cares its cute. word count : 3700 on the dot.

everyone has their natural opposite, someone that they involuntarily gravitate towards even though they're so very different. and for dr. ratio, that person who was his natural opposite, his twin flame, was you. you were his best friend, his closest companion, even though you could be.. unique sometimes. everyone within the intelligentsia guild knew your schedule by now, and that you would come down once every three months to spend a week with the guild and veritas, and, for those weeks, veritas would be the most alive that anyone would see him.

" veritas ! " you yelled, running down the ship runway towards the entrance of the intelligentsia guild ship, your luggage in your hands rolling behind you. " dear veritas ratio, i am here ! "

veritas arched an eyebrow, barely surprised at your enthusiastic greeting. he always wanted to maintain an air of indifference, but here he was, waiting for you at the end of the dock anyway. " always the dramatic one, " he says, feigning exasperation as he called out to you, " how delightful it is to see you again, despite the chaos you bring with you. "

you dropped your suitcase mid run as you bolted up to him, wrapping your arms around him and laughing, quite literally running into his arms. " how is my best friend ? how has the guild been treating you ? ah, these last three months have been quite the storm ! we simply must catch up soon, the moment i put my things away in my room ! also... me ? dramatic ? are you sure we're talking about the same person ? i have never been known to be dramatic in the slightest. "

you feigned hurt as you pulled away from him, dramatically clutching your chest as you overdramatized your words, " my dear veritas, you wound me with your accusations. i have never been known to dabble in theatre. i am always and will always be a very serious and put together individual. "

veritas suppressed a sigh, his hand instinctually coming to grab the small of your back as you pulled away from him, keeping you in his hold for a moment longer, although he looked away, pretending to be offended by unable to hide the warmth in his eyes. " you're not dramatic ? perhaps i have to reevaluate my accusations, " he chuckles lightly, meeting your gaze. " your room awaits you as always. "

your free hand reached up to his face, taking his chin in your hand as you tilted his head, examining him thoroughly. " you haven't been sleeping well, " you pointed out, your tone a mix between disappointment and worry. " has the guild been overworking you ? do you need me to have a word with your seniors ? you mustn't neglect your health, you know. you have dark circles under your eyes, and your eyeliner is smudged slightly. "

veritas paused, caught off guard with your concern for him, but ultimately brushing it off as inconsequential. after all, he was taking care of himself, just a little overworked right now. " thank you for your concern, but i assure you, i do not require coddling. however, i suppose i should pay attention to my appearance, for your sake. "

" perhaps you should ! definitely for my sake ! i would simply combust on the spot if i found out my dear veritas was being overworked ! what would i do if you had no energy to enduring my yapping ? what would i do if you could no longer ground me, and allowed me to run amok with all of my terribly genius ideas ? " you pulled away from him while you talked, reaching for your luggage that you had left behind, your mouth running pretty constantly now that you were in his presence again. " why, the world would be turned into a chaotic mess ! there would be no order, only me running around with enough glitter and balloons to send you into a heart attack !"

" as you can see, if you're tired, this is surely the future that will come true. you must keep yourself healthy, for the sake of the world, you see ! " you laughed as you walked with him inside of the intelligentsia guild, your voice echoing in the otherwise quiet hallways.

" i'm certain the world would crumble without me, " veritas agreed, unable to maintain his stoic demeanor amidst your infectious laughter, " an apocalypse brought by your hand.. quite the disastrous scenario. " he shook his head at your antics, subtly grabbing your suitcase from your fingers, although his gesture did not go unnoticed by you. " the universe needs me to prevent such a fate. "

as you walked, a few people nodded to the two of you, each one getting an excited wave from you, as if you were a puppy excited to see so many people you knew within the same area. a member greeted the two of them, breaking the unspoken rule, and unprepared for it. " ah, you're back within the guild ! " he greeted warmly, stopping the two of you in your tracks.

you smiled at him, your hands behind your back as you spoke. " yes ! i absolutely must bring some color to this monotonous guild ! it's a pleasure to be back, as always. however, at the moment, i'm spending some quality time with my dearest veritas, so i will have to cause mayhem around the guild another time. " your words stung, no matter how gently you spoke them. you always prioritized spending time with veritas above all else, even if that meant turning other people's attention down. after all, you only got to see him once every three months, you had to make this time count.

" o-oh ! my apologies, i'm sorry for the interruption, " the man sulked off, embarrassment coloring his cheeks as he left the two of you alone. veritas didn't say anything, already well aware of where your loyalties lay, although it didn't stop him from holding an air of pride within him.

" perhaps we can find a balance between your chaos and my order during his trip, " veritas suggested as you walked, giving you a playful nudge. he opened the door of your room for you, letting you walk in first. as you settled into the room, you collapsed onto the bed dramatically. this room had became your home away from home, a place that you felt truly comfortable in. meanwhile, veritas settled into a chair, crossing his legs, watching you with a discerning gaze.

" ah, it's so good to be home ! " you whined, pulling a pillow from the bed into your arms, snuggling with it against your chest. " i have been running around like a dog ! world after world, to every corner of the universe, it seems ! " you looked over to veritas, unable to hide your smile, although you were trying to act depressed. " but i suppose i can't be too mad at it, since i enjoy it. what about you, my dearest ? how are your students treating you ? have you been letting more than 3% graduate this year, or is your strictness the focus of the class still ? "

with your attention on him, he feigned sympathy for you, listening intently. his lips twitched into a smile at your dramatization, unable to resist poking fun at you. " oh, the hardships of exploring the universe. truly, a terrible fate, " he deadpans, his voice holding no hint of amusement, although you had gotten used to his dry humor by now. he leaned back, his voice holding a hint of his usual demeanor.

" my students always struggle to meet my expectations. however, a diligent student shall always prosper under my guidance. "

" ah ! perhaps i should take a visit during one of your lectures ? i could whip the students into shape, you never know ! " you teased, rolling onto your tummy, your arms folding underneath your head as you looked up at him, kicking your feet.

he chuckled, raising an eyebrow at your suggestion. " i fear your interference might only worsen matters. they wouldn't stand a chance against you, " he seemed to miss the spark in your eyes until it was too late. your hand reached out, gently grabbing his from his spot in his chair, pulling him until he stood up and got closer to the bed.

" sit, veritas, " you commanded gently, patting the bed with your free hand next to you. " you are far too away. " you picked yourself up to face him properly, on your knees on the edge of the bed as you pulled him into a brief hug, which he reciprocated almost immediately after a moment's hesitation. " i missed you, veritas. these last three months have made it feel like forever since i was back in the intelligentsia guild. "

veritas relaxed into your embrace, his arms curling around you, the tension in his body easing. " indeed, the last three months have dragged on without you. your absence is palpable in my life. i'm.. glad to have you back, even if only for a little while. " he pulled away from your hold, his eyes searching yours, the sincerity in his voice unmistakable.

you couldn't help but laugh a little bit, your gaze soft as you admired your best friend. " ah, the great veritas ratio, renowned doctor and scholar of the cosmos, and yet, his best friend is not a scholar, nor a doctor, and i have only graduated once, unlike my dear veritas who's graduated over eight times. we are so different, and yet, he can't ever seem to shake me off of his tail. a pity, really, or is it ? i think i keep things interesting here. you would get bored if i wasn't here to occupy you, surely. "

" indeed, i find myself eternally cursed with your companionship, " veritas quipped, a note of fondness in the jest as his hand moved from your back to your cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb as he held the side of your face. you nuzzled into his touch almost immediately, your eyes closed. " a fate worse than death, no doubt. yet somehow, i survive. "

this is always how it goes: you make it back, and within the hour, the two of you trap yourselves in the bedroom to share in each other's presence to alleviate the stress of being away from one another for so long. both of you yield to the familiar routine, your bodies responding instinctively to the invitation. your world shrinks to the confines of the bedroom, to his arms, and to this moment.

you hesitated, your gaze flickering down to his lips as you looked at him, but you quickly looked back into his eyes, your words soft as you laughed. " ah ! consider me your own personal devil, keeping you forever by my side. "

you were just friends, right ?

so why were his lips on yours before you could recognize what was happening ? and why were you melting into the kiss, your arms keeping his body close to yours, your kiss deepening, his hands finding purchase on your hips, anchoring you to him. you reveled in the fire ignited by your passion, causing you to gently moan against his lips.

" ver-veritas- " you moaned out against his lips, your eyes fluttering closed as you allowed him to kiss you like this, a kiss that started off smooth and gentle, but got rougher as it progressed, more needy, more desperate. until your lips were sloppily smashed together, your hands grabbing at his vest, hands bunching up in the fabric. his robe slipped off of his shoulders and now hung lazily at his waist, just waiting for him to take his belt off so he could take it all off.

veritas took this time to grab you and push you onto your back on the bed, your legs spread willingly, inviting him closer. his assertiveness surprises you, but you welcome it wholeheartedly, the change in situations so swift that it threw you for a loop. had he seen you look at his lips so briefly ? what was getting into this man ? you did not take veritas for the kind of man to lose his control, and yet here he was, hovering on top of you, his body trapping yours.

he calls your name, his voice thick with emotion, betraying his usual persona. he gazes at you, his eyes mirroring his actions, the want in his eyes obvious. " i'm.. unable to escape you, indeed. but it's a gravitational pull that i find myself willingly falling into. you drive me mad. in ways i'm sure you find delightful. " his fingers trail down your sides, lingering on your hips, holding you firmly, his fingers digging into your body slightly. " let me have you. please. "

everything froze for you, and yet, you relented power to him, more than a little glad to be under his command. you were used to being the one in control during your day to day life - you're loud, commanding, and you have a million opinions that you need to voice. you were a chatterbox, and had a penchant for the love of doing stuff a little on the wild side.

there was only one person who could ever properly control you, properly tame you. he was veritas ratio, your best friend. you trusted him with your life, so you knew you were safe in his command. " mm- veritas, " you whispered softly, your fingers working on his vest, pulling it off of his body, your hands now roaming his naked torso, admiring the muscles underneath your fingertips. " you sure do know how to make a person want you, you know that ? " you teased, picking your head up from the pillow to trail kisses down his neck, " or perhaps, it's just me ? "

veritas' breath hitches, a hint of satisfaction coloring his tone. " its you, " he admitted, his hands working to undo his belt, letting his robes completely fall off of his body, the fabric being thrown onto the floor below you, before he started to work on your clothes, peeling off each layer with a haste that left you breathless. his hands roamed freely now, mapping your body with reverence.

" for tonight, you are mine, " veritas whispered, his proclamation of your body left in the air. " in every sense of the word. i want you, i want to lose myself in you. " he leaned down, each word punctuated by a kiss on your collarbone. " just as i've lost myself in countless debates and lectures, you are my focus. my obsession. "

you may be navigating new waters together, but it felt like a natural progression, the passion filling both of you up completely, pushing you past the brink. amidst the laughter and subtle flirtation, neither of you were even aware of the desires building up between the two of you until it spilled over. each touch, each whispered word, carried the weight of your connection. he pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, relishing in the feel of your skin under his lips. " shall we proceed, or do you wish to draw this out further ? "

the two of you were completely naked now, your clothing long forgotten. you were reveling in the rushed, needy connection the two of you shared. you pulled him closer into another kiss, your hips bucking up into his hand as it hovered over your vulnerable hole. " you're the only one i want to do with with, veritas. please, you can.. take me, if you would like. please, touch me. " you pleaded, your voice cracking, showcasing the needy, desperate person underneath all of your confidence. now that you were done with the theatrics, your need for him was on display. you were striped bare, both physically and emotionally.

" please, " you whimpered, your hips bucking up again to meet his hand, hoping for just a little friction. " i need you to fuck me, veritas. i need to feel you inside of me. "

" how could i deny you ? " veritas whispered back, his breath hitched at your plea. he dipped a single digit into your warm and willing hole, his finger moving slowly at first, testing your readiness for him. then, he picked up the pace gradually, adding a second digit as he began a rhythm. you moaned, throwing your head back in pleasure as he finally gave you a taste of what you so desperately craved.

" please, " you urged once more, your pleas falling on receptive ears, although you weren't sure what you were asking for this time. yet, there's no rush in his movements, every caress of his calculated to heighten your desire further. your walls contracted around his fingers, so tight that it was hard for him to even thrust his finger inside of you, your body warm and inviting.

" your reactions make me.. greedy for more, " he admitted, his fingers deep inside of you, drawing another round of moans from you as you felt the familiar coil build up within your tummy. your heart pounds, synching with his rhythmic thrusts as he fucked your hole with his fingers. " you're ready for me, aren't you ? " veritas asked, his voice laced with expectation as you nodded helplessly.

you spread your legs for him willingly, pulling your knees up to your chest, giving him the perfect access to your body. " please, fuck me, veritas. " you begged, giving him enthusiastic consent to continue and pleasure you both, hissing as he withdrew his fingers. he positioned himself properly in between your legs, his gaze fixed on your face, as he guided himself into your hole.

you whimpered, your eyes rolling back as he entered you inch by inch, slowly penetrating you. his cock was so much bigger than your fingers, and it stretched you out as far as you could take it, your walls constricting around him, as if to milk his orgasm out of him immediately. " fuck..! fuck, you feel so good inside of me, veritas ! " you cried out.

veritas holds still for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, fighting the urge to thrust wildly. " relax, darling, " he instructs, his voice firm but gentle, " let me ease into you properly. "

as he finally sheathes himself inside of you completely, you couldn't help but grab at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. " f-fuck- " you cried out, as his hips began a slow roll, each movement calculated, as if he were afraid of hurting you.

" control, veritas, " he whispered to himself as if he needed a reminder, his breath ragged, " don't lose control yet. "

your eyes followed the path of his body as his cock disappeared into you, and then resurfaced. veritas struggled to maintain control, his fingers digging into your thighs, keeping them pressed against your chest and spread for him. " our bodies were made for each other, " veritas' possession of you was clear, and you didn't argue with him, knowing he was right.

each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body as you writhed underneath him, " you fill me up so, so nicely, veritas, " you gasped as he fucked you gently. you knew he was trying hard to control himself, desperate not to lose himself in you, but you had already long gave up control, and you wanted him to as well. " i-i want you to fuck me so hard i'm seeing stars, veritas. please, " you begged, moans slipping from your lips with every thrust of his.

veritas' breathing becomes erratic, your pleas for roughness seeping into his mind, breaking down his barriers. " oh, fuck- " he groans, his voice low and gruff, " what have you done to me ? " without warning, his hips piston faster, his movements becoming more forceful. you asked to be fucked stupid, and he's all too eager to oblige.

" fu-fuck..! just like that, veritas ! " you cried out, your body responding to his new pace, his thrusts becoming sharper. with each thrust inside of you, your moans grew louder, fueling your mutual desires. you felt the coil build up again, threatening to spill over at any moment. your entire body tensed at the prospect of an orgasm, your mind going hazy as you lost yourself in his body.

" does this satisfy you ? " he breaths against your skin, his voice laden with lust, as you nod eagerly, unable to manage a coherent sentence, " i'm almost there, please. just hold on a bit longer. " he could feel you nearing the precipice. your bodies move in sync, your connection electric as you adjusted to each other's needs, learning each other's bodies like you knew each other's minds.

" ready for me, darling ? " veritas leaned forward, spreading your legs further apart so he had access to your face, his lips pressing against yours in a sloppy kiss. " i'm so close- fuck- "

your body responded eagerly, your back arching towards him, and you whimpered against his lips, your mouth open to let him kiss you, drooling slightly. " i- i am too, veri- fill me up, make me yours..! " you couldn't hold on anymore, your orgasm exploding inside of you, causing you to moan helplessly against him, your bodies becoming one entirely. he couldn't control himself anymore, his hips meeting yours as his eyes shut for a moment, his jaw clenching, wanting to prolong this for as long as possible, but he couldn't hold it back anymore.

" i- fuck, " he growled, pulling out of you, his hand dropping from your thigh to his cock, stroking himself for a moment as he milked his orgasm out of himself, his cum splattering all over your stomach and chest, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath, both of you finally coming back down from the high of being with each other in such an intimate way.

" ve-veri.. " you whispered a little, your legs dropping down, hurting from where they had been bent so far for so long. you both knew what this meant, and for the first time in a really long time, you were at a loss for words. you had no idea what to say to him, how to even approach the conversation that the two of you were going to undoubtedly need.

but somehow, you weren't worried. this was veritas, this felt natural. he leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss on your cheek. " let's discuss it after our bath, no ? i believe we have a lot to talk about. "

sure. you could handle a bath with veritas.

[kittymizuki]

i love that mizuki is hyper-cognizant of ena's kindness but just cant accept it... it hurts too much. mizuki doesn't want kindness, she doesn't want gentleness, she doesn't want pity. she hates the fact that she's in a position where this conversation /needs/ to be had. she wishes she didn't have to go through this at all. she just wanted to be herself. she just wanted things to continue like always. she didn't want to be forced into position where she has to explain herself. she didn't want to have to feel this afraid and vulnerable.

i think so much about footsteps... when mizuki says she doesn't want to have to prove anything to anyone but she has to explain. she has to or she's "deceiving" them... now that she lost the chance to do, it truly feels like she deceived them to the bitter end... mizuki recognizing ena's kindness but resenting that kindness and resenting herself even more for resenting that. it's so... frustrating, bc she was happy. there's nothing wrong or cruel or unreasonable for her to want to keep these matters for herself.

she knew from the start that this would be required. that this would be... demanded of her as a trans girl and either forced out or torn out. the fact that "deception" is an idea inherently foisted upon her existence as if she's doing something wrong by just ... being a girl? by being herself? bake no hana. a deceptive flower, a false flower, a bloom that is an inherent existence of otherness...

project sekai understands how painful it can be to exist as a trans girl even in an online space, bc it can feel like being "deceptive" or taking an advantage that you don't have the right to when you don't immediately disclose your transness to others during interactions. she only started being public as a girl after joining niigo. well, she was before middle school hit but she was forced back into the closet... it's bc she joined niigo, bc her sister supported her to do so, that she was able to do this - being a girl online /with them/.

they made her want to embrace her own self once again even in the face of others being cruel, but it's also not like mizuki ever explicitly tells them that she's a girl when they talk in VC for the first time? the others just naturally assume that she is and she runs with it. she creates this narrative where she's a cis girl. her name is feminine, her icon is feminine, so it's... easy. it's nice. even when they see each other in the sekai, there's no question about it.

[peachdues]

COMPASS — TEASER

Bad boy!Sanemi x Reader • Gang AU

A/N: was this supposed to be limited to a “bad boy Sanemi takes your virginity” prompt? Yes. But y’all should know by now I don’t know how to control myself. And I’m going to a show tonight so I figured I’d feed y’all before I left.

Legit hyped for this one because gang member Sanemi is 🤤

Before anyone asks, yes this will end up being a multi-part fic. I don’t wanna hear a THING.

CW: Sanemi being a huge fucking flirt • this fic will be HELLA nsfw so MDNI • like super fucking explicit lmao • Reader runs a bookstore

You’re in the process of double checking delivery logs to ensure all your new inventory has arrived when a large thud against the clerk’s counter startles you.

It’s him again — all ivory hair and silvery facial scars that somehow are less imposing than the irritated sneer he wears.

“This book was shit,” he scoots the novel across the counter to you with distaste. “I want a refund.”

You level his pout with a frosty glare of your own. Wordlessly, you lean over the counter and tap a single finger against a laminated sign duck-taped to its edge.

Return-exchange only. No refunds.

“But it was shit,” he repeats, as though that will somehow spur you to change a policy you didn’t create. “You let me waste twenty bucks.”

“I did nothing,” you rustle the pages of your delivery log in pointed dismissal. “You’re the one who decided to buy a book before checking it out.”

You glance down at the discarded novel. “Figures,” you scoff. “He’s not even an author. He uses ghost writers and takes all the credit.”

“Woulda been nice if you’d told me that before you let me give him my money.”

You hum idly as you cross off the log’s boxes for new releases. “I suppose I was too stunned that you even knew how to read. Guess I wasn’t really paying attention to your shit choices.”

“Oh?” And you glance up to see Sanemi smirking at you. “The Princess has claws, does she?” He leans against the counter, propping his cheek under a loose fist. “So, what are your recommendations, gorgeous?”

“I’m not your Princess,” you snap imbuing the nickname with as much venom as you can muster. “Call me by my name or call me nothing at all.”

His eyes drop to your name-tag, pinned neatly on the front of your sweater. That insufferable smirk of his only widens. “Alright, alright. What are your recommendations, Y/N?”

The syllables sound rich and honeyed and suddenly, you wish you’d let him stick with Princess, grating as it was.

Because your name should not sound so sweet, should not roll off his tongue so seamlessly, as it just did.

You’ve never been one to indulge in rumors. But in this city, as economically fractured as it is, gossip is a currency everyone keeps in their back pocket. And though you keep your head down and mind your own business, even you have heard the rumors swirling around town about the eldest Shinazugawa child.

Rumors that he has ascended the ranks of the same Mob that claimed the life of his deadbeat father long before the bastard was shived in the back for a debt he’d owed (their words, never yours).

Rumors that he holds a unique position within the gang, known clandestinely only as the Corps, and that position requires him to do things most won’t speak about.

But the rumor that screeches to the forefront of your mind has nothing to do with his alleged status with the Corps. It’s his reputation as a flirt; a rumored womanizer, through and through, that is a splinter under your skin.

Determined to pick him out, a wicked idea blossoms. “Fine, here.” You stalk purposefully to the section marked Literature. Your finger drags down a line of titles before finally settling on one. You pull it free with a soft grunt, the book sitting thick and heavy in your hand as you dump it into Sanemi’s.

“Read that.”

His eyes flick between its cover and you, incredulous. “This ain’t a book; it’s a brick.”

“It’s a classic,” you counter. “One that examines age-old question of destiny versus free will, generational curses.” Your head cocks to the side, a challenging smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Love and lust.”

His eyebrow raises and you cross your fingers. If he falls for it and ultimately ends up hating the book, then perhaps he’ll decide your taste in reading material is indeed shit, and maybe then he’ll leave you alone.

Sanemi considers you for a moment but then he takes the bait. “If you say so,” he sighs. “But if it’s shit, I’m taking my refund.” And then he leans in close, so close that you can feel the warmth radiating off his body.

His breath is hot against your ear. “Regardless of your shitty little policy.”

You refuse to let him see how much he’s knocked you off-kilter. “So I can expect to be robbed? Will it be at gun or knifepoint? Just so I’m prepared.”

His chuckle, low and dark sends goosebumps skittering down your arms. “Worse,” he promises before he draws back. His grin is wolfish, all teeth and feral hunger. “You’ll owe me a date.”

He looses a low, appreciative whistle as he steps back and rakes his eyes over your rigid form. “Though, I might just take you out anyway.”

“You assume I’ll say yes — or are you planning on kidnapping me? I’m sure you’re rather proficient at it, given your occupation.”

Something dark flashes across his face, and it’s enough to make you step back, a sudden fear creeping up the back of your spine.

Stupid, you chastise yourself. You never know when to keep your mouth shut.

But the shadows in his features recede as quickly as they appeared, and Sanemi’s mouth eases back into that same, cocky smile.

“You’ll say yes, Princess. You won’t be able to resist the temptation.”

“Temptation?” You force out a laugh. “And what makes you think I can’t?”

Sanemi’s eyes find your current read, open flipped over on the counter, marking your current page.

It’s a mystery novel. Your third of the month, born of a new hyperfixation on the genre.

You want nothing more than to wipe that smug grin of his clean from his face. He gives an affectionate shake of his head as he turns and makes his way toward the door. “Habits, Y/N. It all comes down to habits.”

You should throw it at his head, but Sanemi exits the store before your hand can find its spine.

[boringbones]

A Letter to Talented Creators

I've been part of this community for 20 years, watching artists rise, fall, leave for new journeys, or simply stop playing or creating. We've received amazing content, but we've also missed out on much.

I wonder how many of these artists could still be creating extraordinary content if they had the support of their communities. It’s common to encounter cliques of creators who vilify anyone considering making a living doing what they love. They’ll use every trick to convince you that not only do you NOT deserve it, but that pursuing it somehow taints you.

With every new friend and artist I meet, my first advice is always: FIND a way to monetize what you do. I believe that if you have the chance to make a living doing what you love, you gain MORE TIME to do what you're great at and, especially, what others love.

Besides, you don’t need everyone’s support—just those who, like me and many other players, are willing to contribute to ensure you have the time you need to keep producing and delivering something only you can create. There are ideas that haven’t been thought of and projects that haven’t been started. Life brings unexpected situations, and we never truly know what goes on behind the scenes for each person who shares their art with the world.

Let me tell you, people are willing to support you. In reality, there are more people willing to support a creator than those who aren't. The difference is that those who are willing don’t make as much noise, but they genuinely enjoy helping an artist who continually exceeds expectations.

I know some people think, “If I make money from this, I’ll have to commit to a level I’m not willing to.” And if that’s the case, that’s fine. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. However, I see this commitment as something positive, but I respect those who disagree. As an artist, you want a certain level of "healthy" pressure. After all, art requires it—not too much pressure, but not too little, either.

Criquette, for instance, is one of the best creators for The Sims 2 in my view. He made incredible things that nearly every player has used. He was ambitious on a level I’ve rarely seen. But he’s been inactive for years. I wonder how much more he could have created if he’d been able to monetize his work—cover household bills, put food in the fridge, or handle basic expenses. How much more time he might have had to create and share? How many brilliant things we could have today in The Sims if he were still here? But he wasn’t monetized, and maybe he was never interested in it, and that’s okay!

For every artist who monetizes, there are many who prefer to do it as a hobby. And that’s wonderful. There are many runners who do it for well-being, pleasure, social connections, or the benefits it brings to life. However, there are those who run professionally. They commit to a level an “amateur” NEVER would. They undergo training that a casual or hobbyist runner would NEVER endure. They maintain diets that others would NEVER tolerate. But the fact that some monetize running and turn it into a career doesn’t prevent others from running for love, fun, or enjoyment.

So, what I’m trying to say is: it’s all okay. If you believe monetizing your talent would give you more QUALITY time to sit and produce what you love, give you the chance to take someone you love to a special restaurant simply because you can, or allow you to be BETTER at what you do because it frees you from worrying about adult responsibilities—then do it!

Be prepared for the noise others will make, but remember that those people aren’t your target audience. Even if they make noise, they don’t consume what you produce. And if they do, they might do so in secret—because attacking a creator and consuming that creator’s work is contradictory. But believe me, there’s often more inconsistency than consistency in this world. And that’s okay!

Remember that on the other side, there are many kind people who don’t mind contributing a small, medium, or even significant amount to support a creator they love, appreciate, and benefit from. Keep this in mind when considering monetization, no matter which version of The Sims you create for. If there’s even one person willing to support you, that’s all you need to start.

I am sure that with this, you’ll have more time, more quality of life, more joy, and a healthy commitment to push yourself in a positive way to give back to your audience for the support and love they have for what you create.

If I have time to create and contribute today, it’s because of these people. They’ve changed my life, shown me that I have the chance to live the life I genuinely want for myself rather than the life circumstances might have dictated. They show me daily that I can LOVE what I do and make a living from it, and that monetizing it doesn’t take away my love for it—instead, it enhances it. I hope you consider my words.

In the end, remember this phrase: “Beyond daily life and what others think of you, what do you think of yourself?” Your value is something only you define. People will respect you to the extent that you respect yourself. If anyone says you don’t have a place “here,” remember, we’re always speaking about ourselves.

We can only give to others what we have, what we are. Trust in your talent and find a way to monetize it, whatever it may be—whether it’s making jarred cakes, selling pudding door-to-door, or creating content for The Sims. I’ve done all these things, and if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that our circumstances change according to our sense of worth. When we recognize that every job has value and that there’s nothing wrong with making a living if you’re providing benefits to others with what you have to offer... So follow your heart. Take risks, give it your all, and be the artist you want to be, because there are people ready to support you. You deserve it, and you will succeed. I hope this letter reminds you of your worth.

Never forget that each of your creations is a unique expression, something only you can bring to the world. May that value and uniqueness always guide you and give you the confidence to keep doing what you love.

[biteytiefling]

So I had an idea and it won’t leave me alone so I’m going to post about it if anyone wants to continue this prompt please do

so starting this off with the fact of ghost hunger exist, they feed off of emotions and ectoplasm. This is for regular ghosts though for halfas though they require emotions, ectoplasm, and living meat/ fresh blood because of this all halfas have the air of an apex predator and all halfas are the children of life and death and they all become morally gray because of it also halfas are capable of Shapeshifting

Finally having enough of the GIW Danny and a de aged Dan(10) and elly(5) decide to lay low in Gotham for a while, while plotting how to take down the GIW and run across someone that they instinctually know is their older brother they’re very sickly older brother who calls himself killer croc they decided to stay with him and teach him how to live as a halfa and he teaches them how to live in Gotham they all try to avoid the bats while wreaking havoc

Gotham City and the bats are in alarm as killer croc has found his shapeshifter siblings and they are all causing havoc as they help out rogues and disappearing talons ( taking them to the ghost zone ) and making sure to cause extra destruction in government buildings ( because petty) and even stealing things from museums and private collections ( ghost artifacts ) and the bats are in confusion as they try to catch them ( all the Shapeshifting forms that the bats have seen are dinos, gator person, and Merfolk, I think that Danny Dan and elly would stick to more scaly forms ) 

[mcflymemes]

PORTAL 2 PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the 2011 video game, adjust as necessary

when life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade! make life take the lemons back! get mad! i don't want your damn lemons!

best case scenario, you might get some superpowers. worst case, some tumors.

science isn't about why. it's about why not.

the next test is very dangerous.

before the wright brothers invented the airplane, anyone wanting to fly everywhere was required to eat 200 pounds of helium.

to help you remain tranquil in the face of almost certain death, smooth jazz will be deployed in three... two... one.

please disregard any undeserved compliments.

all right, i've been thinking.

what am i supposed to do with these?

do you know who i am?

oh, i like this guy.

he says what we're all thinking.

you can head on back to your desk.

well, this is the part where he kills us.

hello. this is the part where i kill you.

i know you.

no! i'm not listening! i'm not listening!

you're lying!

you're not just a regular moron. you were designed to be a moron.

i am not! a moron!

now who's a moron?

could a moron do that?

i can't see it though. maybe it fell off.

do you want to go and have a quick look?

are you alive? that's important. should have asked that first.

i'm going to work on the assumption that you're still alive.

i'm just going to wait for you up ahead.

i'll wait one hour.

brilliant! go team!

i think we can put our differences behind us.

hi. so. how are you holding up?

good, that's still working.

here are the test results.

you are a horrible person.

i'm serious. that's what it says.

we weren't even testing for that.

don't be alarmed, all right?

good work getting this far.

i wish i could take it all back. i honestly do.

i'm in space.

if i were ever to see her again, do you know what i'd say? i'd say "i'm sorry." sincerely.

i am sorry. i was bossy and monstrous... and i'm genuinely sorry.

you made it through! well done!

okay, follow me. we've still got work to do.

what's happening?

okay... don't move.

so i've got an idea, but it is bloody dangerous. here we go.

they told me that if i ever turned this flashlight on, i would die.

they told me that about everything.

i don't even know why they bother giving me this stuff if they didn't want me to use it.

look at you, soaring through the air like an eagle.

i'm different!

prometheus was punished by the gods for giving the gift of knowledge to man. he was cast to the bowels of the earth and pecked by birds.

it won't be enough. the answer lies beneath us.

oh, it's dark down here, isn't it?

i'm proud of you.

now we are a family again.

that last test was seriously disappointing.

just work with me.

some of my best friends are actually orphans.

you look ugly in that jumpsuit.

that's not my opinion.

i'll be honest. we're throwing science at the wall here to see what sticks.

no idea what it'll do.

i knew someone was alive in here!

you'll know when the test starts.

oh thank god you're all right.

i thought you were my greatest enemy, when all along you were my best friend.

the best solution to a problem is usually the easiest one.

i'll be honest. killing you? is hard.

i had a pretty good life. and then you showed up.

you know what? you win. just go.

it's been fun. don't come back.

this sentence is false.

to be honest, i might have heard that one before.

you know, i'm not stupid.

i realize you don't want to put me back in charge.

i'm being serious. i think there's something really wrong with me.

we should get our stories straight.

no, we're not stopping!

don't make eye contact, whatever you do.

i feel awful about that surprise.

oh, that's sad. but impressive.

we're running out of time.

you've probably figured it out by now, but i don't need you anymore.

i'm afraid you're about to become the immediate past president of the being alive club.

the square root of rope is string.

okay, what you're doing there is jumping.

you know what? that's close enough.

you saved my bacon.

is this a jailbreak?

the next test is very dangerous.

it's been a long time. how have you been?

i've been really busy being dead. you know, after you murdered me.

you out having yourself a little adventure?

no, don't get up. i'll be right back.

you're unqualified!

what if this hurts? what if it really hurts? oh, i didn't think about that.

get your hands off me!

i can't see a thing! what just happened?

i don't have any bullets.

did you feel that?

you were busy back there.

that's funny. i don't feel corrupt.

i've got an idea! do what it says!

look how small you are down there!

do you have any idea how good this feels?

sorry, fellas. she's married. to science.

let me answer those questions with a question. who wants to make sixty dollars?

yes, all right, okay, this is getting tiresome.

well done. good. aren't you little miss clever. little miss smashy smash.

does it actually make you feel good when you do that?

it's not impressive.

what is this, like a hobby for you now?

i'm beginning to actually take it personally.

it's like an insult to me.

oh, there goes another one.

it's vandalism! it's pure vandalism!

it's just us talking like regular people.

are you going to open this door?

where'd you go? come back!

[cowboy-lover69]

Ghostface's accidentally hurting you during their murders headcanons

(1587 words)

Billy Loomis

--- however, you ended up getting hurt if he was there when it happened, he would panic whether he was in costume or not. It’s a mix of hurting you and fears if hesitates to attack you it might make him look suspicious. 

--- After whatever happened he would urge you to leave town or not go to Stu’s party since he uses the excuse it is a “breeding ground for murder” but since he’s going to the party you called him out for being a hypocrite. 

--- At some point, he runs out of excuses and either drops it or confesses to being Ghostface to you. If he tells you the Ghostface before you can freak out, he tells you his whole story, but it most likely does not sway, you are not really. Depending on how close you were to him, you might have even agreed not to tell anyone or even help. As much as I would like to think that you wouldn't report him to the police you probably would, but you don’t really have any evidence.

Stu Matcher

--- Stu is very protective of you before anything actually happens, but when something does happen however it does, he is very guilty. When you get injured if he’s the one who does it he tries his best to retreat. If he is not, he is the first to you if he's there when it happens.

--- After you are injured, he might not even throw the party or at least he would keep it smaller so you would not know about it, so you don’t come since he and Billy have plans with Sidney that night.

--- Billy would probably not be happy that he was reconsidering their plans because of you. Stu might even back out if he were to back out, he would probably be killed so he probably does not do that. Stu most likely still throws the party, just turns on Billy last minute, or tries to minimize the fallout of the murders for your sake.

Mickey Altieri

--- It was never Mickey's intention to care for you so much no less care when he hurts you by accident during his murders. He starts to fear that his feelings for you will get in the way of his “efficiency” so he tries to find a way to get you out of the way without having to hurt you again. 

--- he decides to take the risk and gets closer to you before continuing the murders, of course, Ms. Loomis is not thrilled but he has a plan, it requires him to be closer to you which he doesn't mind at all since he likes you.

--- At some point, you guys start dating for a while and he takes this opportunity to execute his plan. He confesses to being Ghostface and asks you to join him. Depending on your attraction to murder it might have worked or not.

--- If you do agree you two become partners in crime for the remaining murders and you guys might have even succeeded with the murder plot. Of course, Ms. Loomis would have still probably taken advantage of Mickey, but since you were there, you might have killed Ms. Loomis before that became a problem.

Roman Bridger

--- As soon as you got hurt Roman panicked and started trying to find you a way out of town. Of course, it was not too hard to do that at least for him. 

--- Roman offered to whisk you away on vacation he said that staying would not be safe and a vacation is always nice.

--- Of course, you agreed since you trusted Roman. Of course, later you found out he was Ghostface which probably destroyed your trust in anyone for a while. Therapy will be needed! 

(Sorry I didn't have any ideas for roman)

Jill Roberts

--- When Jill accidentally hurt you during the murders, she had to face the fact that she had to kill you or deal with you in some other way. She was trying to avoid the thought that it was not something she wanted to think about. Nevertheless, she decided to just keep you out of the way, so you won’t be an issue.

--- After the stab marathon was canceled and they go to the Kirby house for the after-party she tries to make sure you won’t know that the after-party is going on since she doesn't want you to be a problem and make it harder for her to execute her plans.

--- you end up showing up since Robbie live streams while he's there and you recognize the outside of the house. You show up a little after Jill kills Charlie. You see Robbie's corpse so you run inside to find Jill and Sidney. 

--- Jill is a very good manipulator and you guys are really close, so she deters you from calling the cops. She tells you to go home instead of staying to aid in her story. Jill loves you but does not trust you to corporate her story, since of how carefully she crafted the timeline to work in her favor and she also didn’t want you getting cold feet last minute. 

--- When the cops ask later you tell them you were not there that night, and they believe you but soon after it’s all for nothing since Jill ends up being caught in the end.

Charlie Walker

--- you're the first person to ever acknowledge him romantically, so when you end up getting yourself hurt during his and Jill's little murder spree he feels guilty.

--- He starts being very clingy I mean more than usual since he wants to keep you safe, he finds that he can keep you safe if as long as he's not in the Ghostface costume he can keep you close, and safe.

--- He still helps Jill but insists that you are not invited to the after-party. First of all, part of the plan was to get romantic with Kibry so that when he is tied to the chair later she will want to help him. 

--- you find out about the after party but just a little late. You show up just as the police do and they find Charlie dead and Jill the only survivor. Later you find out from the news and Sidney that Charlie and Jill were the killers.

Amber Freeman

--- It was never Amber's intention to get you involved, she actually wanted you as far away as possible but it was not working out that way since you ended up in the crossfire.

--- At some point, she realized she had to do something with you, but she couldn't kill you. She didn’t want to, so she made a distraction.

--- she couldn't have you showing up to the party so she slashed the tires on your car and bike so you couldn't leave. She understood after she and Richie finished the job she would never be able to see you again, but she thought that was better for you and her own good.

--- you found yourself walking to the party, but it took a little while and you ended up showing out around the time the police did and you found out what happened with Amber and Richie, and it all made sense.

Ethan Landry

--- Ethan did not like the emotional trouble he found himself in when it came to you. He loved you but he also felt a loyalty to his family, to his father. When you had accidentally gotten yourself hurt in the apartment scuffle, he could not forgive himself but for now, in fear, his father would kill him like his mother, so he kept his mouth shut. 

--- In an effort to try to keep you safe he tried to keep you as far away from the main group as possible since Tara and Sam specifically Sam was their main target it was best if you avoided the group but of course, you didn’t listen since you didn’t know why he was asking you too you thought he was jealous.

--- When he, his father, and his sister revealed themselves at the theater he regretted it almost as soon as he did it, he hated the pain in your eyes. Later on in the scuffle, he turned on his father and sister in an effort to make up for what he’s done. Whether it worked or not is up to how eager you are to forgive a killer because he was pressured into it. 

Quinn Bailey

--- Quinn would get very quickly attached to you in a way that differs from all the others she slept with. She cared for you and wanted to keep you safe from her life as a Ghostface. She didn’t want to have to hurt you, but she ended up doing just that and she knew she had to take greater measures.

--- she would find reasons to keep you far away from her till she and her family were done with all the Ghostface things of course it didn’t keep you away for long. So, she faked her death; you can’t be around her if she was not “alive”.

--- Since Quinn’s “death” you grew closer to Sam, Tara, Chad, and Mindy. It was good for you to have friends while you are grieving, but not so good for Quinn's conscience. You were not allowed into the theater for the Ghostface trap. So, you had to find out secondhand what became of Quinn which was not great for you.

masterlist

(Requests open)

[chukys-mouthguard]

aperol spritz

5.3k words | not proofread

featuring: william nylander x female reader

warnings: sexually explicit content, minors DNI, 18+; choking, spanking, hair pulling, daddy kink, marking, overstimulation, slight degradation, squirting, p in v, oral (female and male receiving) - aka LOTS of smut!

summary: after a shitty breakup your friends take you on a girls trip where they’re desperately trying to help you find a vacay fling, and william just might be the man for the job

note: i have no clue how this ended up where it did, but i hope you enjoy 🙈

You swirled your finger around the rim of your glass, listening intently to your friend as she told you about the interaction she’d just had with some guy at the bar. The music blasting throughout the small club as you’d downed about seven drinks at this point. A good buzz going through your body as you watched the crowd, the dance floor a bit too packed for your liking. Preferring to people watch as you sipped your drinks.

It was night four of your girls trip to Ibiza, and you’d yet to find a nice vacation fling like you’d hoped. Your friends were trying to get your mind off a harsh breakup with the spontaneous trip, and one of their goals to put it plainly was for you to get laid. While you weren’t desperate, something about the idea of meeting a stranger and having one or two amazing nights with them, then never having to cross paths or worry about seeing them again was intriguing.

Your friends noticed you eyeing the crowd, giggling to themselves at how you were trying not to be obvious about wanting to find yourself some eye candy.

“Y/n, at this point if he’s got all his teeth and buys you a drink, I say go for it.”

Shaking your head you rolled your eyes, tossing back the rest of your drink. Not having noticed the blue eyes that had been stuck on you for the last twenty minutes.

A blonde haired man sitting at the end of the bar sipping his drink as he watched you and your friends. Seeing the way you eyed the crowd, as if looking for someone. But only ending up discouraged as you hadn’t found what you were looking for.

“Sorry to say girls, I have a bit more I require if anyone is getting their hands on me.”

They both sighed, hating how picky you were despite the need to be touched by a man.

“Y/n, come on, you just need one night to let your freak run wild and not be worried about ever seeing the guy again. While I understand wanting the guy to be attractive, if he’s got the equipment, I think you need to lower the expectations.”

Sliding from the booth with a laugh, you excused yourself to the bar for another drink.

The blonde haired man saw you get up and knew this was his chance to make a move, hoping that you’d give him the time of day as he could sense you’d be tough to crack. He watched as you looked for an open space at the bar, the only one next to him as he locked eyes with you, inviting you to take the spot.

You offered him a smile as you tucked some hair behind your ear, tapping your nails against the bar as you waited for a bartender to come your way.

“Aperol Spritz?”

You looked to the blonde at your right, a confused look on your face as you watched him sip his drink.

“I’m sorry?”

“I saw you from across the way, I couldn’t help but notice you weren’t drinking what every other girl in here was. So, I’m taking a guess, Aperol Spritz?”

You playfully bit your lip, not sure if that was a bad thing that he’d been able to know your drink order, but part of you didn’t mind either way. A hot guy at the bar, if not the hottest you’d seen all night, appeared interested in you and you would let him guess anything he wanted about you.

“Well, you would be correct. It’s been my go-to the entire time I’ve been out here. And if I had to guess for you.”

Eyeing his glass you smirked as his eyes were focused on you, a slight chuckle escaping his lips as he watched you study his drink.

“Hmm, I’m gonna guess you’re a vodka soda guy?”

He shook his head no as he pulled the glass to his lips, taking a sip before he answered.

“It’s a spin on a traditional mule, some people don’t like it. It’s a little spicy with some lime.”

The drink sounded interesting, and you were inclined to try and see what his taste was like. Still waiting for the bartender as the blonde extended a hand to you.

“I’m William.”

“Y/n, nice to meet you.”

After shaking your hand he held it up to signal the bartender, who immediately came to him to take his order.

“Another one for me, and for the lady?”

William pointed to you, catching you off guard as you were still confused how he’d had the bartender practically at his beck and call while you’d been waiting for minutes.

“Um, I’ll do the same thing!”

You smiled as you’d reached for the stool that sat tucked under the bar, figuring your friends wouldn’t mind you ditching them to have a drink with your new found friend.

“What do you think?”

William patiently watched as you sipped the drink, hoping you’d enjoy it. The taste was just as he described, a bit spicy with the perfect amount of lime.

“Wow, that’s good! I think I like it more than a traditional mule.”

He was pleased that you enjoyed the recommendation, clinking glasses with you as he took a sip himself before asking about your reason for being in Ibiza.

You’d explained it was a girls trip, leaving out the details of your breakup, knowing those details would almost definitely deter any guy from being interested in you.

“It’s been a super fun trip, this is our last night out though so I’m a bit sad about that.”

“Your last night? And I just got the chance to meet you and share a drink? Damn, well, I guess I need to make the most of the time I have with you then.”

He smirked as his chin rested on his hand, looking you up and down as he finger traced over his bottom lip. Something instantly telling you there was more to what he was saying, reading inbetween the lines to hope that he was as interested in you as you were in him.

You took note of his toned arms that were simply covered by a white short sleeve shirt, a gold chain peeking out from under his collar, his pants hugging his thighs pretty tight. Making you wonder how muscular his legs would appear underneath the fabric.

The two of you had downed a few more drinks, your buzz increasing as you felt yourself growing more and more desperate to be closer to William. The way he ran his hand through his hair, his smile as he spoke and the occasional laugh he’d let out. You’d hoped he couldn’t see it written on your face how much you wanted him, but you weren’t sure how much longer you could control the thoughts running through your mind.

“Do you dance?”

His hand rested on your thigh, reaching for your fingers as your hands then intertwined. A smile on his lips as his thumb traced circles over your skin.

“Mmm, I do dance. I can’t say I’m good, especially after so many drinks.”

William laughed at your drunken words, standing up as he tucked some hair behind your ear.

“Well what if I keep a hand on you, to hold you steady?”

You looked up at him with lust filled eyes, playfully biting your lip as you rose to your feet to join him.

“I think you’re gonna have to hold me pretty close.”

“Then I won’t take my hands off you.”

William winked before he took your hand and led you to the dance floor, finding a spot for the two of you as he spun you around before bringing your bodies close together.

Your hands wrapped around his neck, fingers playing with his hair as two moved along to the music. His hands resting at your waist as he felt his heart racing with you so close to him. Trying to control his desire to let his hands roam your body and see how far you’d let him go before you turned him down.

But little did he know you were more than willing to explore his desires. Wanting to feel his hands all over you, to have his lips on yours.

“For someone who said they’ve had quite a few drinks, you’re moving pretty well on your feet.”

William smirked down at you as you rolled your eyes, turning away from him as you brought his arms around your waist, backing up so your ass was pressed against him.

“Oh don’t act like you don’t want to hold onto me.”

He laughed in your ear as the two of you were now grinding rather than simply swaying to the beat. The tension building as you’d tried to not seem desperate to be closer to him, but needing him to know you were open to take this as far as he also wanted.

“Oh trust me, I want to do more than just hold you. Like I said, I’m trying to make the last night of your trip the best night.”

You leaned your head back on his shoulder, smiling as one of his hands kept a hold on your waist while the other moved your hair from your neck. Exposing the skin to him as you felt his lips brush over your skin, his nose tickling your ear causing you to slightly flinch.

“The best night of my trip huh? You think you’re gonna be able to do that?”

William chuckled in your ear, loving the cockiness in your voice, as if proposing a challenge to him. To which he gladly accepted, not willing to back down from you. Wanting to follow through on his promise of making this the best night of your trip.

“I don’t want to sound cocky, but I can guarantee you won't be able to walk tomorrow once I have my way with you.”

His words send a wave of need throughout your body, the mystery of not knowing what would be in store being enough to have you ready to leave with him immediately. Knowing he had you wet on this dance floor solely from his words, the idea of what he’d do to you once he had you in private made you weak in the knees. Glad he’d had a steady hold on your waist, pressing your ass firmly against his crotch which you’d tried not to pay attention to as you felt him growing hard behind you.

“Is that a threat? Or a promise?”

He placed a kiss to your neck, softly biting at the skin before licking over the spot to soothe it. Earning a soft moan from you as you felt chills shoot up your spine at his lips against your skin.

“Why don’t we get out of here and you can find out?”

The invitation was all you needed, taking his hand in yours as you pulled him from the floor. Stopping back at the booth where your friends had been loving the fact you’d finally found someone to hopefully get you laid. Admiring the gorgeous man at your side as you asked them for your bag.

“Don’t wait up girls!”

You blew them a kiss as you quickly exited the club, hand in hand with William as you had no clue where you were headed. You and your friends had been sharing a room, so you hoped William had a room to himself that you two could occupy.

He noticed you looking left at right, appearing at your side as he snaked a hand around your waist. Pulling you into his chest as he began peppering your face with kisses.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get a cab.”

You grabbed his face as you pulled his lips to yours, kissing him for the first time as you couldn’t handle the anticipation anymore. Tongues fighting for dominance as one of his hands gripped your ass while the other held you close to him. You bit his lip as you pulled away, blushing with a smile on your face as he tried to catch his breath. Your hand reached for his as a cab pulled up, William opening the door for you to climb in.

“How long is the drive?”

He smirked down at you, sensing how badly you needed him to touch you again. His hand resting on your thigh, slowly making its way higher to dip beneath your skirt.

“Someone is impatient huh?”

You felt goose bumps covering your skin as his fingers slipped under your skirt, brushing over the fabric of your thong to feel how much you’d already soaked them. A smirk on his lips, loving the idea of how wet you’d been all night just for him.

“Fuck, you’ve been this wet for me all night? I love that.”

His lips crashed back down onto yours while his fingers pulled the fabric of your thong to the side, as he traced along your slit. A soft moan escaping your lips only to be swallowed by William. Your thighs instinctually spread to give him more access, William taking that as his sign to go further. His thumb slowly circled your clit as he slipped his fingers past your folds. A sharp gasp escaping your mouth as your hand instinctively pulled him deeper into the kiss, trying your best to muffle any sounds that were threatening to come from you.

William’s growing erection pressed against the zipper of his pants as he felt you soaking his fingers, loving the feeling of your juices coating his hand. Catching you off guard he suddenly pulled them from you, bringing them to your mouth as he broke the kiss. You gladly accepted his fingers into your mouth, sucking your juices from them as he bit his lip.

“Mmm good girl.”

The cab came to a halt and William handed the driver some cash before he pulled you from the backseat. You were pulling your skirt down as you climbed from the cab, hoping no one was able to tell what the two of you had just done, though also not caring as you were craving more from him.

His hand held yours tight as he pulled through the crowded street up to his hotel, secretly hoping the two of you would get lucky with an empty elevator ride to his floor. William desperately needing to have his way with you, pressing the button to close the doors just as quickly as they’d opened for you.

“Floor twenty.”

He instructed you on which button to press before you felt his hand pull you towards him. Pinning you against the wall you could feel how hard he was, a smirk coming across your lips knowing you’d gotten him so worked up. One of his hands sneaking back under your skirt as the other found its way to your throat, lightly tightening his grip as he stole a kiss from you. His eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation or nervousness, but all he saw was lust and desire.

“You trust me baby girl?”

All you could manage was a slight nod of your head as the ding of the elevator snapped William out of his thoughts. He took your hand as he hurried the two of you down the hall, fumbling with the key as he couldn’t wait any longer to have you all to himself.

Tossing the key on the dresser he pulled you further into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed as you joined him. Straddling his waist as he lifted your skirt up to your hips, your hands tangling into his blonde locks as your tongues fought for dominance.

He let out a low groan at the feeling of you grinding your hips down onto him, signaling his approval with a smack on your ass. The sound echoing throughout the room as you winced at the slight sting, Williams hand resting on the sore spot as if to soothe it.

“You’re so fucking sexy, I hope you’re ready for everything I wanna do to you.”

His voice was low and laced with desire, he needed you in every way possible. Your mind racing at the things this man had in store for you, and knowing you’d do just about anything he asked left you practically begging him to continue.

Normally you weren’t one to explore different kinks or fantasies in the bedroom, your last boyfriend being more on the vanilla side of things. Which was fine, it got the job done. But something about William, his clear want to have his way with you and explore the limits a stranger would let him go, it brought out a side of you that you were ready to explore.

“Oh yeah? Well let’s see it then, I want everything you’ve got.”

He bit his lip at your words, his cock twitching in the confines of his pants hearing you say you wanted everything. And with that stamp of approval, he was ready to give you just that.

“Take these clothes off and get on your knees. Let’s see how bad you want it.”

Quickly you’d stepped out of your skirt, making sure to give him a good view of your ass that was now sporting a bright red handprint from him. William pulled off his shirt, tossing it to the side before resting back on his hands as he watched you strip for him.

His tongue darted out over his bottom lip as he smirked the mark he’d left on your ass, his hand falling to palm him bulge that was painfully pressing against the seam of his pants and needing to be freed.

Pulling your top over your shoulders, you tossed it to the side as you rested your hands on his thighs, finding your place on the floor in front of him. On your knees as he instructed while he looked down at you with eyes full of need.

Standing up from the bed he’d undone his belt with a quick flick of his wrist, then following suit with the button and zipper. Guiding his pants down his legs as you admired his build, your hands running up his thighs as you desperately needed to see what he was hiding underneath his briefs. Though the bulge in them was clearly telling you that he’d be plenty big enough for you and there would be nothing to complain about.

His thumb traced over your bottom lip as a slight chuckle escaped him, seeing how you eyed his bulge knowing you were surely soaked at the sight of his size.

“You’re cute when you’re needy, and I’m gonna make you beg for every inch of me.”

His words had you dripping, the anticipation for what was to come almost being too much as all you wanted was to get his briefs off of him and his length inside of you. But William wasn’t going to make this so simple. He’d finally discarded his briefs, his cock springing free as it lapped against his stomach. You felt your pussy throb at the sight of it, not only the length but its girth. Trying to anticipate the feeling of lowering yourself onto him and how he’d stretch you out. But you knew nothing could prepare you for that.

He slowly stroked himself as he took your chin in his other hand, guiding your mouth to line up with his length as you willingly offered. A low groan escaping his lips as the feeling of your lips wrapped around him, his hands immediately gripping at your hair as he couldn’t help himself. His hips slowly moved to match the rhythm as you bobbed your head up and down, slightly gagging each time his tip hit the back of your throat.

“Fuck yes, I wanna hear you choke. Just like that.”

Picking up your pace his hips moved to match, his grip tightening in your hair but the pain only felt like pleasure as he held you in place as his cock filled your throat. His breath sharp as he slightly twitched, feeling you deepthroat him, your eyes slightly tearing up as your nails dug into his thighs.

He pulled your mouth from his cock with a groan, already missing the feeling of your lips around him as he picked you up. His hands gripping your ass while his lips crashed back onto yours. Arms wrapped around his neck as your nails scraped along his back, making him hiss at the feeling but he loved it. Wanting you to show him how good he made you feel through the evidence you’d leave on his skin.

He laid you down on the bed, eyes roaming your body as he licked his lips with anticipation, stopping to see the wet spot that had formed through the fabric of your thong. His cock twitching at the sight, desperate to be buried deep inside of you.

“Do you always get this wet?”

His smirking face between your thighs almost made you nervous, instinctually pressing your thighs together to hide yourself from him as if it were a bad thing. But William quickly pulled them apart, reassuring you it was nothing to hide from. His fingers hooking under the tiny straps that sat on your hips, pulling the fabric from your body as he was met with your glistening folds.

“Dirty little thing soaking your panties like that for me.”

His lips pressing kissed along your thighs, teasing you as his mouth was covering every inch of you except where you needed him most. Your hips instinctually adjusted as if to give him the hint, though he could tell from your eyes just how desperate you were for him to taste you.

“Talk to me baby girl. Daddy is gonna make sure you get exactly what you want.”

The way the pet name for you rolled off his lips surely had the sheets soaked beneath you. His slight accent mixed with the cockiness in his voice sent shockwaves down your spine as you could hardly wait any longer, his teasing becoming unbearable.

“I want you to taste me, please.”

Your hand gripped at his hair as you tried to guide him towards your heat, your voice slightly whiny as you pleaded with him. But he loved it, inching closer towards you as you could feel his breath on your folds, goosebumps covering your skin as you’d swallowed in anticipation.

“Mmm, please what?”

“Please daddy.”

Your response was almost instant, making William chuckle at how you’d become putty in his hands. But he loved every bit of it, knowing he’d repay you with the pleasure you’d be feeling at the hands of his mouth in seconds.

Hearing daddy roll off your tongue was all it took as you gasped, his mouth immediately pressing to your clit as he wasted no time. His tongue worked wonders as your back arched, hands grabbing at his hair so tight you were sure he’d lose strands.

“Fuck, oh my-shit!”

He chuckled at your reaction, it only encouraged him to continue as he’d slipped two fingers between your folds. His cock twitching at how wet you’d gotten for him, his fingers matching the pace of his tongue as you felt your breath catching in your chest. Breathing heavy as you could feel your fingers tightening around him, eyes fluttering shut as you tossed your head back. Not able to form words as the only escaping your lips were whines and moans as he brought you to your peak, but not backing down.

He could feel you were already close, your hands dropping from his hair to grip the sheets as your thighs pressed tight to either side of his head. Your body shaking as you tried to push him away, the feeling was overbearing as his tongue continued its attack on your clit. Pulling his fingers from your folds, he’d wrapped both arms around your thighs, holding you still as his mouth took over.

The way he licked and sucked at your clit you were seeing black, and William couldn’t take his eyes off you. Seeing how overstimulated you were as you body shook beneath him, looking down at him through half hooded eyes as you bit your lip.

He’d let his thumb take the place of his mouth as he came up for air, kissing your thighs softly as he smirked up at you.

“You wanna cum baby? I can see it in your eyes.”

Nodding your head was all you could manage as your mind was blank, William moving his hand so his fingers could dip back inside you.

“Mmm, fuck. Such a pretty little slut getting soaked for me. How about you cum for daddy and then ride this cock?”

“Y-yes, I need your cock inside me. Wanna feel you stretch me out daddy.”

He loved hearing you dirty talk back to him, the fact that you made sure to tell him what you needed despite the work of his fingers making it hard for you to breathe let alone speak.

“As you wish baby girl.”

William chuckled before his fingers picked up their pace, thrusting in and out of you as his tongue found its way back to your clit. The sensation already close again as he barely gave you time to recover from the previous high.

Your back arched as your moans turned into soft screams, William pushing you over the edge as he made you ride out your orgasm. Soaking his fingers and mouth as he’d managed to make you squirt, catching you off guard as you looked at him shocked.

“Fuck, I-I’ve never done that before.”

Taking his fingers in his mouth to taste you as he cleaned them off he flashed a smile, climbing up the bed and lowering himself on top of you. His lips finding yours in a sloppy kiss as you felt his cock slightly brush against your folds, making you twitch at the sensation.

“It was so fucking sexy baby.”

His lips trailed down to your neck as he slid his tongue along your jawline before biting at your collarbone. Your head falling back only makes him reach up and wrap his hand around your exposed skin, slightly tightening his grip as he whispers in your ear.

“Now how about you get in my lap and we make you do it again?”

William swapped your places, pulling you into his lap as you straddled him, his hand reaching behind you to unhook your bra in one swift movement. Pulling the black laced undergarment from your arms as he threw it across the room. Immediately giving attention to your breasts as he’d been eyeing them all night, never imagining them to be as perfect as they were to him.

While he gave your chest some attention, you took your turn at leaving marks of your own down his neck, hands roaming his muscular chest and arms. Soft moans escaping his lips every time he felt your teeth nip at his skin, always followed by your tongue to soothe the red spots you’d left behind.

Slipping a hand behind you, you took his cock and slowly teased your folds. Desperately trying to make him wait but you couldn’t hold out any longer yourself, sliding down his length as your hands rested on his chest to brace yourself. Expletives pouring from both of you, feeling him stretch you out as his head fell back against the pillow. Hands sliding down your sides to grip at your hips, holding you steady as he needed a minute to compose himself with how tight you felt wrapped around him.

“Shit…”

“Yeah.”

He echoed your reaction as he attempted to guide your hips, urging you to ride him, which you happily obliged. William’s hands moving to grip your ass as you grinded against him, his hips occasionally bucking at specific movements you’d done.

“Bounce on it baby, show me how much you like it.”

“Mmm, I don’t like it, I love it.”

Following his request you leaned forward as your arms rested on either side of his head, bouncing your ass up and down on his cock as he groaned in pleasure.

“Fuck, just like that. Such a good girl, fucking ride me baby.”

A smack of your ass from him urging you to continue, your pace picking up as you could feel yourself already getting close to another orgasm.

“Shit, I’m already close. You feel too good, holy shit.”

William smirked at you before he quickly flipped you over onto the bed, keeping his cock buried inside you as you gasped. Caught off guard by the sudden switch of positions, but loving the feeling as he put one of your legs over his shoulder to have a better angle.

“Think we can make you recreate earlier? Gonna really push you to your limits baby. Can you take it?”

Biting your lip you nodded, fingers gripping the sheets tight as his hand fell to your clit, thumb rubbing vicious circles as your eyes rolled back. His free hand doing his best to hold you in place as you were already shaking.

“Come on baby, let’s see it, be a dirty little slut for daddy. I want you to soak me.”

His words were like drugs to your senses, the only thing you needed to reach your peak. That besides his cock and thumb that was working its magic making you tongue tied as you could barely form a response.

“William, I can’t take anymore, it’s too much.”

He could feel you tightening around him once again, knowing you’d gotten you so close. His thrusts now sloppy as his pace picked up, both with his cock and his thumb.

“Fuck, come on baby, I’m gonna cum for you. You’re so close, I can feel it.”

His voice almost a low growl as you watched his brow furrow, his own climax approaching. Reaching down you pushed his hand away, taking over the assault on your clit and giving him the ability to grip your hips and thrust into you. Hard and fast as his fingers surely broke skin, leaving bruised fingerprints in their wake as your hips bucked against him. Your hand barely able to keep its pace, the warmth building up as your back arched.

“Fuckkk!”

William pulled himself from you as he came, his seed covering your stomach as your own release coated his chest. A cocky grin on his face as he looked down at the mess the two of you had made. Your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to make sense of what had just happened. Vision blurry as you all you could muster was a, “holy fucking shit”.

William climbed off the bed, disappearing to the bathroom before returning with a towel to clean you off. Your body slightly twitching at the feeling of him touching you, you’d definitely be sensitive for an hour or so with how good he’d pleased you.

After discarding the towel he picked you up, ripping the soaked sheets from the bed before setting you back down on the drier surface of the mattress. At this point you didn’t care where he set you down, just needing to lay still and try to recover.

“You okay baby girl?”

He grabbed an extra blanket from the closet, laying next to you before he draped it over the two of you. His thumb brushing over the skin of your shoulder while his lips pressed soft sporadic kisses.

“Yeah, I um, wow. Fuck.”

William chuckled as he wrapped an arm around you, closing his eyes as your breathing finally slowed to match his.

“Told you I’d make this the best night of your trip.”

Playfully rolling your eyes you ran your fingernails along the skin of his forearm, relaxing in his embrace as you tried to imagine how you’d explain this to your friends.

“What about tomorrow, you think you could make that the best morning of my trip?”

[revasserium]

burn

umemiya hajime; 3,307 words; mostly fluff, tiny bit of angst, young/freshman!umemiya, pre-canon events, lapslock, no "y/n", librarian!reader, childhood friends to lovers, vague ref to ch. 152, ume is a dumbdumb

summary: "it's a pleasure to burn" - ray bradbury, fahrenheit 451

a/n: am i writing umemiya now? who knows. this takes place 2 years before wbk manga events (the first year ume&co are in boufuurin) so pls excuse the slightly ooc ume...

001. the art of war

the library is entirely your idea.

“mah… you’d have to be the one to keep track of all the books though,” umemiya says, grinning as he watches you stock the shelves, your hair twisted up into a messy bun, your arm straining to reach the top-most shelf with a bundle of paperbacks with fraying covers and broken-in spines.

“of course i would! it’s not like there’s anyone else here i’d trust with that.” you turn to fix him with a stare that is already too “librarian-like” and he laughs, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh.

“okay then, consider me your first patron! gimme something to read,” umemiya says, smiling wide as you narrow your eyes. your lips twitch up at the ends — it’s a familiar movement, an unconscious gesture, but one that’s plagued his all sleepless nights and most of his endless days.

“well…” you say, drawing out the word as you slowly saunter towards him, propping your hands on your hips as you pull level with the table in front of him, “what do you want to read?”

“anything you’d wanna lend me,” he says easily.

“boo, that’s such a boring answer,” you shoot back, shifting to press your hip against the edge of the table, crossing your arms as you turn to look back at the half-erected shelves.

you don’t see the way umemiya’s eyes flicker down to the bend of your waist, or the way he licks his lips as he tracks the plush of your thigh as you move to hoist yourself onto the desk, balancing on the edge.

he swallows, clearing his throat, trying not to think about the strange, burgeoning signs of growing up pestering you both at this vital juncture (just last week, his voice had cracked so hard you’d laughed at him for a whole hour straight; and the week before that, he’d almost rammed into a telephone poll watching you jog down the flight of stairs that leads to your tiny apartment).

“then maybe reading a few books will make me not so boring, hm?”

you roll your eyes, hopping off the table to comb through the handful of books. umemiya lets out an internal sigh of relief, feeling the heat in his cheeks recede ever so slightly as you disappear behind one of the taller shelves.

“here. let’s start with this.”

you pop out from behind the shelf, lobbing a thin volume towards him; he catches it out of reflex and stares at the cover.

“the art of war…?”

you grin, all cheek and no shame, “yeah. i mean… fits, doesn’t it? aren’t you starting at boufuurin next week?” you blink before turning back to look around at the small, abandoned storage facility, tucked between a ramen shop and what used to be a dollar store. there’s half a dozen dusty shelves, a few cabinets along the walls, and even a small stepladder that touma had dug out of the back closet for you.

at fifteen, you’re probably the smartest person he knows (and the prettiest, but that’s neither here nor there); at fifteen, umemiya hajime is an iron-wrought confluence of teenage ambition with big ideas and even bigger dreams (who doesn’t have time for things like crushes or girls… really).

“yeah,” umemiya runs a finger along the cover of the little book and flips to a random page, his eyes catching on the line —

the greatest victory is that which requires no battle at all.

002. pedro reyes

three weeks later, he stumbles back with two black eyes and a matching pair of bleeding knuckles.

“that book you lent me?” he says, dropping into a chair with a groan, “kinda bullshit.”

you make a half-startled, half-annoyed noise as you hurry over, setting down an armful of magazines to lean over and look at his face.

“what the hell happened?”

umemiya winces as you reach out to wipe a trickle of blood from his cheek.

“couple of fights — tough ones, but… well, i’m still here, aren’t i?” he says, managing a lopsided grin even as you tut, hurrying away to grab a first aid kit, returning with a warm, wet cloth and a scowl on your face.

“i thought you had a plan,” you say, unable to keep the acid from your voice.

umemiya groans as you press the damp cloth to his bloodied fingers, watching as you wipe each one down, the shocking white of the towel slowly darkening until it’s stained and blotchy with red.

“yeah. i did — punch everyone out till i get to the top.”

you tsk, frown deepening even as he shifts forward to let you wipe at the wounds on his face.

“pretty sure that’s not what sun tzu suggests,” you say, dabbing some kind of cooling gel to a cut right below his eye.

“sun tzu’s never had to deal with the guys at boufuurin.”

you roll your eyes, sighing before pulling back, “there’s an article i read today —” you jerk your head back towards the stack of magazines, “about an artist in mexico.”

“yeah?”

umemiya closes his eyes and lets you do the slow, diligent work of bandaging up his knuckles, one by one.

“he took a bunch of illegal weapons the government had confiscated and melted them down — pistols, knives, shotguns — and made them into musical instruments instead.”

the quiet that follows is thick and steady as churned butter. you don’t look up, your eyes still trained on the careful task of bandaging umemiya’s fingers.

he shifts, pulling closer, his breath fanning out warm against your cheek.

“do you know how hot a fire has to be in order to melt metal?” you ask after another brief silence, finally lifting your eyes as you finish with his hands.

umemiya cocks an eyebrow, “how hot?”

“about 2,700 degrees, fahrenheit.”

umemiya whistles below his breath, “sounds hot.”

“it is. at that temperature, you can apparently force a weapon to forget that it’s a weapon, to remake it into something new — something that wasn’t made to take lives… but to give it instead.”

you wrap your fingers around his, your skin contrasted against the dark blossom of bruises.

umemiya feels his smile slash into something jagged, lopsided and sharp.

“then… i guess that’s how hot i’ll have to burn to turn this whole place around.”

003. grey’s anatomy

looking back, umemiya wonders if that’s the night he changed — the night that you’d held onto his hands as if they were something precious.

he looks up the melting point of metal and the story of the artist in mexico. he thinks about what it must feel like to turn a pistol into a flute, to be the one to teach it to hold a note instead of a bullet —

he stares down at his bandaged hands, feels the dull ache in his muscles and wonders.

once, he remembers when the pair of you were still kids, hollow and lonely and full of a childish rage at the indifferent world — how you’d laughed as he pushed you on a neighborhood swing, but cried when he knocked a guy’s front teeth our for asking where your parents were.

and a week later, he’d found you hidden under the jungle gym with a tomb of a book clutched in your hands. the air had been damp with thunder, the sky grey and electric.

you’d looked up at him with bright eyes, holding out a closed fist —

“ume! did you know that the human heart is the same size as a fist?”

he remembers crawling under the jungle gym to squeeze in beside you, elbow to elbow, hip to hip, peering at the opened book, at the page with a diagram of the human body an all it’s labeled parts.

“oh, cool.”

he’d held up his own fist then, and stared, feeling the beat of his heart reverberating through his chest. he wonders if you can hear it when you’re pressed this close; he wonders, if the sky weren’t breaking apart above you, if he’d be able to hear your heartbeats too.

“isn’t it strange?” you’d asked, leaning over to bump your fist against his.

“what’s strange?” he hadn’t pulled away; neither had you.

your hand relaxes then, fingers loosening till he can see the blood rush back into their tips, tinting them pink. you’d turned your hand and placed it over his still-closed one and squeezed.

“that… a heart and a fist are the same size but… they weren’t made to beat the same.”

004. romeo & juliet

“he loves you, y’know.”

you look up from the makeshift front desk.

tsubaki is sitting with their legs crossed on one of the tables, arms propped on either side of their hips.

“library’s not open for another few days,” you say by way of an answer.

“it’s nice,” tsubaki says, looking around, “you did a good job with it.”

“thanks.”

they hop off the table to peer down one of the aisles of books — all the shelves now labeled with your loopy handwriting, the books clustered by a loose combination of genre, authorship, and spine-coloration.

“it’ll be good for us,” tsubaki’s voice is slightly muted by the layers and layers of books, but the click of their heeled boots rings sharp against the smooth linoleum floors, “having a library — the pen being mightier than the sword, and all.”

they’re smiling when they finally come back around the last row, fingers linked behind their back.

“that’s the hope, anyway,” you say, lips pulling into a wane smile.

you glance up and your eyes catch on the bandage at the edge of tsubaki’s lips, the dark stain at the collar of their otherwise impeccable uniform.

sighing, you run a hand along a yet-unsorted stack of books, shaking your head.

“we’re too young to know anything about love,” you answer, finally.

tsubaki joins you, bending down to pick up the first book at the top of the pile, waving it in the air with a rueful grin.

“i think romeo & juliet would beg to differ.”

you bite your lips, “you know that’s a tragedy, right?”

tsubaki shrugs, “sure, but… wasn’t it beautiful while it lasted anyway?”

you don’t have an answer, and instead, tsubaki giggles, tapping the top of your head with the book.

“can i borrow this? i promise i’ll return it!”

you wave them away with a soft smile.

“that’s kind of how a library works.”

005. fight club

“how long have you been here?”

you jerk up, your entire body screaming with the movement after having been still for so long.

“ume —! you’re awake!” you nearly collapse by the hospital bedside, dropping your head into the pristine white sheets.

above you, umemiya makes a choked off sound somewhere between a cough and a laugh, his hand coming up to pat your head. you melt into the feel of him, the weight and warmth of his fingers as he treads them through your hair.

“where’s —”

“they left — all of them,” you say, lifting your head slowly, “takishii and endo and… all of them.”

umemiya frowns, his hand stilling for a second, “what do you mean?”

you shrug, pulling back till you’re curled up in the bedside seat once more, tugging your knees up into your chest.

“after the fight, they just… picked up and left.”

“so… i lost,” umemiya’s voice is soft.

you shake your head, “no.”

he frowns, “but that’s —”

“you knocked each other out at the same time — it was technically —” your voice snags in your throat as you remember the grizzly scene before you, the crimson sprays of blood, the dirt damp beneath them, their uniforms torn into dark ribbons, the rooftop howling with a savage, winter wind.

“a tie,” umemiya says in a flatlined voice, reaching up and covering his eyes with his arm.

“right.”

you clear your throat, reaching for the tall glass of water on the bedside table.

“here — drink,” you hold the water out to him. he takes it wordlessly and drains nearly the entire glass. you watch, silent, as a drop of liquid trails down his jaw and trickles into the bandages at this throat.

your eyes cut away as he grins, smacking his lips and setting the water glass down.

“ah — that feels much better!”

you’re quiet, sitting vulturine still, refusing to meet his gaze.

umemiya finally slumps back to stare at the ceiling.

“you’re mad at me.”

“i’m not.”

“we’e known each other our whole lives, i know when you’re mad —”

“i’m scared, okay?” there’s a thin, unsteady quiver to the tenor of your voice as your head snaps back up. it’s then that he notices your fingers curled into fists at your sides.

“s-scared? of what? takiishi and endo are gone — you said so your—”

“of you!”

umemiya blinks and feels the blood in his extremities going cold, and for a second, he’s not sure if he accidentally dislodged his iv drip.

the look on your face is inscrutable, anger and uncertainty, but most of all — fear. something about that look makes his stomach curdle inside him.

“i —” he tries to find something to say but nothing else comes out. there’s no excuse, no explanation. he searches you eyes for a tether, for a spark of that familiar warmth and finds none.

slowly, you soften back into the seat and turn to stare out the window.

“it’s not like i’ve never seen you fight… and i’ve never liked it but this…” you bite down on your bottom lip, “it was like… you turned into someone else. someone i didn’t recognize.”

“i’m… i’m sorry.”

you swallow, still not looking at him, your eyes flickering down to your own hands, now lying limply in your lap.

“and then i thought — what if i did this? i — i had to go and make that stupid metaphor about the metal and the melting and —”

at this, umemiya laughs, reaching out to tug you closer. the ease with which he does so startles a hiccup out of you.

“you don’t really think i went and fought like that because of an article about a dude in mexico, do you?”

you purse your lips, cheeks going blotchy with heat. umemiya reaches forward to squeeze your nose, making you jerk back.

“dummy,” he chides, grinning now from ear to ear, but his smile falters slightly as he takes your hands in his, “i’m sorry that i scared you. promise i won’t do it again.”

“hn.” you don’t make to pull away, and umemiya takes that as permission to tug you into his chest, wrapping both arms around you. he buries his face in your hair and breathes in, out, in —

“hm… you really think you have that much power over me?” umemiya asks, a wanton sort of amusement underlying his voice as he finally lets you go, if only to revel in the way your cheeks flood with color.

“shut up! i was — i was freaked out and you were unconscious and i —”

“cause you do.”

your words cut off as abruptly as a dropped call.

umemiya chuckles, scratching at the back of his head, ruffling up his already pillow-mussed hair.

“been meaning to tell you but… i figured you already knew — “ and for once, he sounds his age — young and halting and shy.

after a breath that feels like a century, you finally break into a helpless fit of laughter.

“i can’t believe it…” you say, burying your face in your hands.

“can’t… believe what?” umemiya blinks at you.

“that it took you nearly dying for you to admit that you liked me.”

“hey! in case you haven’t noticed, i’ve been kinda busy this year!”

you roll your eyes, “yeah, yeah — had to go save the world first. then you get to kiss the girl, right? end movie, roll credits.”

umemiya cocks his head, “well, i dunno about the world but definitely — wait, what did you say about kissing me?”

you crinkle your nose, “i didn’t.”

“yeah you did.”

“i did not — i was just making a general statement about cliches in superhero movies —”

“oh, so you think i’m a superhero?”

“ume! stop it — mph!”

later, umemiya would recall fondly to anyone who will listen that yeah, he does get to kiss the girl after all.

006. fahrenheit 451

“451,” you say, standing at the door of the newly minted makochi library.

it’s dark outside, and umemiya stands by your side, stretching his arms over his head with a wide yawn.

“huh?”

“451 degrees,” you say again, turning to press a small silver lighter into his hands. he stares owlishly at it before looking back at you, clearly at a loss.

“that’s how hot it has to be for paper to catch fire.”

umemiya stares.

“i was thinking,” you say, turning back to the dark, but pristine library.

“uh-oh — oof — ow!” umemiya makes a show of clutching his side as you jerk your elbow back for another blow. he dodges out of your way with a dopey grin.

you sigh, turning back to the library, “but i was thinking that… there’s gotta be a better way — an easier way, right?”

this time, he stays quiet to let you speak.

“because yeah, it’d be nice to melt all the weapons in the world and turn them all into nicer things but… there’s a better way to do things.”

“yeah? and what’s that?” umemiya turns the lighter around and around in his palm.

you turn and head for the door, locking it behind you. the moonlight washes your skin in a ghostly silver as you turn to face him.

“we rewrite the story,” you say.

umemiya flicks on the lighter and lets the fire dance between them. his breath catches on the liquid gold in your eyes.

“is… that even possible?” he asks.

you reach out a steady hand, letting the tips of your fingers barely skim over the shifting flame.

“sure it is. all of human history is just a story written by the victors. and… 451 degrees isn’t nearly as hot as 2,700.”

umemiya smiles then, letting the lid of the lighter click shut. the fire snuffs out, leaving only a thin trail of spiraling smoke behind.

“sounds a lot more reasonable, too. much less scary,” he says.

you laugh, turning towards the main street. he watches you go for a second before pocketing the lighter and making to catch up. when he levels himself with you, he reaches out to take your hand.

“fires don’t have to be scary,” you say, giving his hand a quick squeeze, “for most of human history… it’s brought people together — over a hot meal or a good story. a lot of the time… it’s the only reason we get to survive.”

umemiya pulls you in to loop his arm around your shoulder.

“hm. i like the sound of that way, way better.”

bonus:

“so… just makin’ sure — you don’t want me to burn down the new library you spent all this time setting up, right?”

“no you dumbass! it was just a metaphor.”

“oh. right — yeah, a metaphor, duh.”