#i apologize for the quality I wrote this in a rush

[dracocheesecake]

I’ve been lowkey stalking your page cause with the new KFP movie coming so too has my love for Kai. He’s just. HE’S SO?! HE’s so bro he is so-

Not even just like RAUGH. As a character he has so much depth and there’s so many things you can explore about him (as you’ve done, I think Yuelong is so wonderful!!), I love his personality, his place in the story as what happens when both Yin and Yang are left unchecked for so long and they need to clash to better remind themselves who they are. And of course his voice is just sooooo, both his voice and his design is just…sheesh 😮‍💨 (thank you J.K simmonssssss) he’s so perfect gaugh.

Anyways, thank you for being like one of the sole content providers for this man, if I had time, I’d start writing my own x reader’s for him. But all the rambling aside, I was wondering what you think the dynamic would be like with him as a Spirit Warrior and like a wandering, stubborn ram with a spiritual streak who could like astral project to and fro between the mortal realm and the spirit realm. Her visits aren’t too long in the spirit realm, but enough to explore the place, and probably accidentally sneak into Kai’s place of residence.

Cause I can only imagine Kai’s shock and bewilderment at someone in his space that seems…out of place? They have swords do they expect to threaten him, seriously? Why is their chi like that?

Yes yes yes I agree I agree he is so very much RUUGGHHHSHSHDGSHEHWHW 💚💚💚

Hemhem- anyway, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I'm so happy that my content has fed someone else as much as it has fed me lol. I had to make the content I wanted to see in the world, and that was of this guy XD.

Thank you so much for reading and liking my stuff! He was absolutely a character full of potential that is actually really fun to explore!

Now that question:

I think Kai would be extremely surprised to see someone that's well...there, but not quite. Someone in the Spirit Realm, but not dead and not a mortal somehow transported there...or at least, not physically transported there. Where is the chi that he can take?- There's only this ephemeral veil of it before him, but infuriatingly out of his reach. How dare you dangle this chi in front of him and not even be decent enough to actually be there for him to take it! Oh please, swords- what are you going to do, goatie ghostie? Poke him with them?- As if.

I think past his initial bewilderment he would start mocking her, trying to goad her into actually appearing physically, or just to annoy her to amuse himself and pay her back for the annoyance she unwittingly caused him. He even threatens her a few times, telling her that once he gets out of the Spirit Realm- and he will, it's only a matter of when- he'll track her down. He's reserving a spot for her on his belt.

And when he does break free of his exile in the Spirit Realm, and does track down her physical form...well, I'll leave that to you. ;)

-OK, OK, no- no, you know what? I can just imagine what happens when Kai finally actually does make his way to where she actually is. Just...I have it so vividly ingrained in my mind. There's a knock on the door, it opens, and he's just there smirking down at her all "Hey, guess who just got out of the Spirit Realm?"- And then there's this moment on her end where she realizes she really messed up, because you know she was probably talking alot of trash to him when she was astral projecting- but she is absolutely willing to back it up and throw down with him, which Kai gladly accepts.

What happens afterward?- I'll let you decide.

But the entire interaction at that point would be hysterical to me, and honestly does have alot of fun potential.

Snippet cuz I can't resist:

The ram looked up at him in mind-numbing shock. Kai smiled and spread his arms.

Then he settled down. His glowing green eyes seemed to bore into hers. All the joviality from before dropped, save for a cold insouciance.

"Honey, I'm home," he sang, and then promptly laughed, tossing his head back and clapping his hands together. The ram could only stare up at him.

"...Well?" He said, "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

Only the hard habits of etiquette led her motion, puppeting the hollowed out husk of her body- and that was the saving grace that kept her from breaking. Her mind refused to process this at all; he had been trapped in the Spirit Realm, herself just an astral manifestation, when they had met- and now he was here, and she was making him tea- tea, as if he were just a regular guest.

The strange things the mind resorted to in order to keep sane.

Kai watched her, sitting at a low table in the center of her cabin home. The small teacup she lent to him seemed especially so in his hoof- but then again, he seemed especially large in her house. She took her seat across from him, sipping at her drink. It was then she noticed, during that long, quiet interval, that he never touched his- maybe he had forgotten how, or maybe he had no need of nourishment.

Or maybe chi was enough.

His eyes had never once left her. The glow of them felt like it would burn her if they gleamed any brighter. She inhaled softly and put her cup down.

"How did you get here?"

His eyes widened, and he smiled, tilting his head to one side, childish in gesture and tone, another form of mockery. "How?" He said.

He pointed to the assortment of jade amulets hanging at his waist, next to the twin blades also holstered there, and the ram could see the powerful aura surrounding each of them- could practically hear their souls screaming from within for release, and it made her nearly sick with the realization; no surprises, he had mentioned as much before- threatened her with it, in fact, when she had pressed his patience too far with sardonic remarks. She sipped her tea again.

"...Got a nice collection going, I see."

"So you know why I'm here now," Kai said.

He leaned over, ever so slightly. The air of the room became tense. Predatory.

The ram froze, immediately aware that the taut string drawn between them was about to snap. Still, she had always been stubborn: she held her ground, watching him in silence with as much wariness as he watched her. Kai smiled and slid his cup slightly over, leaning to rest his forearm full on the tabletop, leaning closer to her.

"You had alot to say in the Spirit Realm. When I couldn't touch you..."

His other hoof reached out, slowly, cupping her chin and jawline with a gingerness that should not have been able to come from such a brutish form. It was only a deception, though; just a touch, just to remind her that he was real, just to hammer home the potential of the threat he now presented. His tone was low, a mere rumble on the thickening air.

"...What have you to say now, Ghostie?"

She caught her hitching breath. Then she snatched her chin out of his grasp and held it higher, stubborn as ever.

"I say: I don't take back a single thing I said in the Spirit Realm," she said, raising her brows at him defiantly. Kai's eyes widened, but then he grinned. He slammed both of his hands down on the tabletop, making the clay tea set jump and rattle.

"Shall we take this outside, then?"

"We shall."

"You have your little knives?"

"They're swords! And they're more blades than those glass pokers you have on you!"

"They're jade- But we'll see for ourselves which are the better blades, won't we?- Here's a hint: they're mine."

"Nuh-uh!"

"Come prove it, then- and it better be worth my time. I didn't come here all the way from the Spirit Realm for nothing, after hearing all of that talk from you."

[radiant-reid]

was reading some old writings and was wondering if you could do a fic/blurb based on this hc of spencer x reader?

"Practices saying your first name with his last name. Like when he thinks you're not awake and then one day he's introducing you and he totally slips up"

omg i forgot i wrote this

The BAU team had decided to gather for a casual get-together at Rossi's place for his birthday. It was a rare occasion for everyone to unwind and spend some quality time outside of work, and Rossi had invited lots of his friends around, as well as the BAU team and their dates. Which is how you scored an invite and why you're arriving hand in hand with him, dressed up, smiling, and excited for the evening.

As you entered the living room, you were greeted by familiar faces and the pleasant hum of conversations. Rossi approaches, a grin on his face as he welcomes you both.

"Hey, everyone! Glad you could make it." He says cheerfully. "Oh, and here comes our favorite couple."

You nudge Spencer's side as he blushes, and you can't help but feel a surge of warmth in your heart as you squeezed his hand.

You split off from Spencer to talk with the girls, chatting and catching up. But Spencer turns up to tug you away and introduce you to new people.

"This is Y/n Reid. My wi-" He unintentionally uses his own last name instead of yours before clearing his throat and trying to cover it. "L/n, actually. Y/n L/n, my girlfriend." He's stammering and flustered, blushing bright red.

You can't help but shyly grin, shaking hands with everyone as they introduce themselves, the slip-up barely phasing anyone.

Morgan clasps Spencer on the back, not resisting an opportunity to tease him. "Looks like you're already mentally prepared to take that leap, huh, Reid?"

Spencer's face reddens further, but he can't hide his bashful smile. He glanced at you, apologetic and sheepish, silently asking for forgiveness.

"It's alright, Spence." You reassure him, squeezing his hand again. "I'm not the only one of us that's thought about us getting married."

Later, when you find a moment alone in a quieter corner of the house, Spencer takes a deep breath before speaking. "I'm really sorry about the mix-up, Y/n." He apologizes sincerely. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or assume anything."

You gently place a hand on his arm, a soft smile on your lips. "Spencer, it's alright. It was just a slip of the tongue. No harm done."

He nods, his eyes searching yours. "But... I have to admit, it's something I've thought about... and I think it sounds nice. Your first name... my last name."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you feel a rush of emotions. Spencer's vulnerability and honesty are endearing, making you realize just how deeply he cares for you.

"I like that idea too." You confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "Well just wait for you to propose, I guess."

[jellyfishandry]

Locked out of their dorm

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo, Eijiro Kirishima, Denki Kaminari

Content: unestablished relationships, Bakugo, all sfw!!, crappy writing, crushes, rushed, sharing a bed trope, slight argument, swearing, possibly ooc, gn reader,

A/N: I wrote this during school so the quality is questionable

Izuku Midoriya

He was up late training, and when he was going back to his dorm, he realized that he had forgotten his key. It was already late, and he didn’t want to wake up Aizawa. He debated sleeping on the common room couches, but it got cold at night, and he didn’t have any blankets. Then he remembered that he saw the light in your dorm was on. So after a minute of thinking, he decided to knock on your door. When you opened your door, the first thing he did was apologize for bothering you so late at night. But you were just confused.  So he explained that he had lost his key, and he was wondering if he could stay in your dorm for the night. Honestly, he was not expecting you to let him in. Though he’s very grateful. He thought he was going to be sleeping on the floor, so he was very surprised when you told him he was going to sleep in the bed. And by that he thought you meant you would be sleeping on the floor. So of course he refused.  You told him that he’d get cold, and that his back would hurt in the morning, and you explained that you were going to share the bed. His face went red, and he was very hesitant to even agree. Sure you guys were friends, but he never expected things to go this far. He laid with his back to you, taking care not to touch you. The idea of making you uncomfortable horrifies him. But he wakes up the next morning, with his face inches from yours.  He’s very embarrassed, and he tries to get out of bed without waking you up. To which he succeeds.  Later when you wake up, he can barely make eye contact with you. His classmates think something happened, but they’re unsure what exactly that something is. Mina and a few others ask him later…

Katsuki Bakugo

Everyone knew that he went to bed early. So when others saw him still out in the common room at 10, they’re obviously confused. But he refuses to answer any questions about it. When you finally head to your room, he casually follows you. Of course, you’re skeptical as to why he’s even up, much less walking you to your dorm. “Do you need something..?” He hesitates, not wanting to admit fault or “weakness.”  “...Can I sleep with you tonight?” You’re obviously surprised, as he doesn’t usually ask for favors.  “I beg your pardon?”  Very embarrassed to say the least.  He repeats his question, not waiting to tell you the reason. But when you ask why, he hesitantly tells you. Hear that, you snicker, to which he glares at you. You let him into your room, and he makes a few comments about it being messy. Though it doesn’t actually bother him. You offer to sleep on the floor so he can have the bed. But he refuses, saying that he doesn’t want to hear you complain about back pain tomorrow.  But you both end up in your bed, though with some space between you. He’s slightly nervous, but it doesn’t show through.  He doesn’t want to let you know that he’s got a crush on you, it was already suspicious that he went to you in the first place. He falls asleep pretty quickly, as he was already up late.  The next morning he wakes up before you do, and he finds himself in your arms. He can’t deny that it doesn’t feel nice, but he has things to do. So he carefully slips out of your embrace and leaves your room. He enjoyed the experience, but he’s certainly not going to tell you.

Eijiro Kirishima

Originally he wasn’t even going to ask you, or anyone else.  He told himself that he’d stick it out on the common room couches. But after only 15 minutes of staring at the ceiling, he got up and walked to your room. He saw the light from under your door, so he knew you were still awake.  He knocked quietly, not wanting to wake anyone else up.  When you opened the door, you were certainly confused.  He’s upfront and direct with you, and tells you that he locked his key in his room, and that he didn’t want to bother Mr. Aizawa.  He originally asked for a blanket, and maybe a pillow, so at least he’d be more comfortable.  And he was surprised when you told him he could sleep in your room where it’d be warmer.  At first he was hesitant, because he didn’t want to invade your privacy, especially while you were sleeping. But when you insisted, he agreed.  He still thought that he’d be sleeping on the floor… He continues to be surprised when you offer him the bed, which he quickly refuses.  “It’d be unmanly of me to take your bed and make you sleep on the floor!!”  But you insist. But he is also very insistent on you taking the bed.  You eventually suggest a compromise. You both sleep in the bed.  He’s at first speechless, but he agrees. When you’re both in bed, he’s practically, laying on the edge of the bed. He’s pretty nervous about making you uncomfortable by getting too close, or touching you. He wakes up, and you’re still asleep, but he sort of expected that, as he often wakes up early to get a run in before class.  When he sees you later he thanks you, and he may or may not have gotten you a small keychain of your favorite hero as a thank you. 

Denki Kaminari

He knows exactly who to go to. You’ve always been kind to him, so he knows you’re more likely to help him. And if he were to go to anyone else, he knew he would hear about his fuck up for weeks.  It’s late, be knows you’re often up late as well, studying or watching something.  He feels a little bad about bothering you, but he really didn’t want to sleep on the couches or bother Mr. Aizawa.  “So I lost my key, could I maybe crash with you tonight?”  You let him in, and he, like Kirishima, expects to be sleeping on the floor. But when he sits down, you shake your head and tell him to sleep in the bed.  He’s slightly embarrassed, but he doesn’t protest.  He didn’t really know what was going to happen next, but you climbing in beside him certainly wasn’t what he was expecting.  He lays in bed for a while, practically hugging the wall to make sure you had enough room.  He’s pretty tense, he doesn’t want to push your boundaries. You end up falling asleep first, and he relaxes slightly.  And the next morning you wake up, and he’s practically clinging to you.  Though thankfully it’s not hard to get him to let go and not wake him up.  When he wakes up and sees that you're gone, he exits your room swiftly. And when he walks into the common room, he’s mildly surprised to see that no one is giving him, or you, weird looks. He concludes that you hadn’t told anyone.  He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed that, and that he wouldn’t mind that happening again.

|| Navigation ||

[froggywritesstuff]

yandere Tara Carpenter x male reader

holiday promise | yandere!tara carpenter

ship/pairing: Yandere!Tara Carpenter x male!reader

fandom: Scream

warnings: yandere, kidnapping, chains, being gagged, delusional Tara, slight stockholm syndrome, unwanted touching (not sexual), not proofread

word count: 731

A/N: i do not in any way support yandere behaviour, please know that this writing is purely fictional, and should not ever be reenacted in real life. this is sort of christmas/holiday themed, so if you don't celebrate that kind of stuff, feel free to keep scrolling. I wrote this in like 20 minutes so apologies for the lack of good quality writing. no use of y/n

Tara wasn't an idiot. She knew when her sister was up to something. Especially when she roped her friends into it and they 'whispered' right outside Tara's room. She wasn't surprised though. Sam, Mindy and Chad had grown to be very protective of the people they cared about, especially when it came to Tara. So when Tara cried into her sister's arms over her missing boyfriend, she knew Sam would go overboard trying to help her.

Tara placed the last poster into her bag, and made her way to the door, preparing herself for the looks of pity she was bound to receive. As she opened the door, she rushed past her friends, noting their deer in the headlights looks as if they weren't expecting her to open the door so soon.

Sam quickly followed after her sister, "Tara, do you have a sec?" 

Tara sighed silently, setting her bag on the floor as she grabbed her shoes by the door, "Not really, I gotta go."

"Do you want some company?" Chad suggested, sounding a little too desperate and not at all like he, Mindy and Sam hadn't planned this.

Tara shook her head as she laced up her shoes, "No, not today."

"We're getting worried about you." Sam admitted, though it wasn't at all a secret to Tara.

Mindy nodded, "We know you wanna be alone, but you don't have to be. We're here for you. So if you wanna talk, or if you want some help putting up posters, you can come to us."

Tara stood up to her full height, slinging her bag strap around her shoulder and staring expressionlessly at the three, "I said I just wanna be alone."

With that, she was out the door. She went downstairs and outside the apartment building, being met with the cool wind outside. The sky was cloudy and grey, and the air smelled of rain. She briskly walked down the streets of New York, until she made her way down an alleyway. She looked around and behind her, checking no one was following her, before she reached into her pocket, pulled out some keys and entered an old, mostly abandoned building. Locking the door behind her, she walked further into the house, footsteps sounding against the stone floor, until she reached a locked door leading to a room. Unlocking the door with her keys again, she pushed open the door, smiling at the sight of you. You were curled up in the corner shivering, the chains around your wrists clattering together.

"Can I sit with you?"

You said nothing, which was mainly the result of a gag shoved in your mouth, but Tara took your wide-eyed fearful stare as a yes, and sat down beside you. She smiled, cuddling close to you and grabbing her bag, unzipping it and showing you it's contents.

"Since it's the holiday season, I thought I should get you some things." she pulled out a soft, fluffy blanket, wasting no time to wrap it around your shoulders. She knew you would need it, you were sitting on the stone ground all day, and the weather wasn't getting warmer any time soon. She pulled the gag out of your mouth, sending you into a coughing fit, and she grabbed some snacks, setting them on the ground in front of you. "Just because you're spending the holidays here, doesn't mean you can't celebrate with me."

As your coughs died down, you looked at her smiling face, and for the first time since Tara took you here, you felt a calm feeling. You never felt that when Tara was around. But maybe she did care? Maybe she did really love you, she just didn't know how to show it...

"Oh, I wanna show you something." you stared at the bag Tara was searching through, until she pulled out a poster that made your heart drop. At the top of the page was bold, black letters reading: MISSING. Underneath was your name, your picture, some other information about you, and Tara's phone number at the bottom. "How does this look?" she noticed your wide eyes and sensed your fear, "Don't worry, I'm not gonna let anyone find you, these are just so no one gets suspicious." she smiled at you, lifting her hand to your cheek, "I'm never gonna let anyone take you from me. That's a promise."

[satellite-evans]

Family

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Summary: Chris and his family :)

Word count: 1.2k words

Warnings: fluff, rushed ending

A/N: I don't know what it is with me and dad!chris, but I wrote another one lmao. The ending is rushed and kinda sucks but I hope y'all enjoy it xxx

English is not my first language, So I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, questions or just vents are always welcome.

love you all, happy reading <3

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Many people have different answers to the question, 'what is the most important thing in your life?'

The reason is simple; not everyone is the same. People had different lifestyles, different tastes, different religions, and different friends. It would be impossible for them to give the same answer. And sometimes, people change, so their answers change. The important thing in a person's life could be a dog at first, but can switch to their career once they work.

Chris changed as all humankind did, but his answer never did. It was always the same. Maybe it was because he didn't get it until he was 38. Perhaps it is because that is all he knew in life.

One thing he knew for sure: the essential thing in his life was his family—especially the one he created with you.

It was like one of those fairytales in Disney movies he used to watch when he was little. Everything about you was surreal. You were a princess who couldn't be more beautiful: your eyes, hair, and smile. The cure to his problem was you. But he knew that if he drank you in too much, it would become poison, like all things do when you do it too much. He didn't care. It would be an honor for him to die because of you.

His family. He still couldn't wrap his head around it. Chris' family was his whole life, and everything else came around second regarding what was important to him. His wife, the Dinsey princess, his dog dodger, his wife's best friend, and his son, the little troublemaker.

"He is a troublemaker because he is just like his dada." That is what you kept responding to Chris every time he called Ry that. It was true. Rayan was exactly like his father, not only in his looks but also in his character, which scared Chris a little. He didn't want his son to become an anxious person who was too stubborn for his own good.

Hopefully, he wouldn't be.

Because the more little Ry grew, the more he showed he was the perfect mixture between his parents. Sure, he was a troublemaker like Chris. That made you pull your hair a couple of things for the things he did, but he was more than that.

Rayan was patient. He could accept or tolerate delays, problems, or suffering without becoming annoyed or anxious. If Chris was a little later, he just sat on the couch, watched his show quietly without fuss, and hugged his dad when he arrived.

The quality that you liked the most about him is honesty. He never lied about if he accidentally spilled something or did something he shouldn't do.

"Mommy, my apple juice spilled all over the carpet, but I promise I didn't do it on purpose. Dodge came into my room and wanted to hug me. I think he got too excited, and I spilled mommy. Please don't be mad at him; he also didn't mean it."

You cleaned his carpet and gave him and Dodger both a treat. The fact that he explained to you what happened and protected dodger made you proud of being his parent.

When you told the accident to Chris while you were both in bed, he couldn't hold his tears at how good of a person his son was. At that age, he thought about even Dodger's feelings and how he was innocent. That was all you. It couldn't be him. Chris wasn't even considering his brother's feelings, pulling pranks all the time and making him cry when they were little. He was immensely grateful that he was becoming more and more like you. God knows how Lisa was tortured by Chris, sneaking out of school and doing stuff he shouldn't be doing.

Your daughter Hira was a whole other story.

When she was born, everyone complimented her, saying how much she looked like you. Chris couldn't be more proud. The more he looked at his daughter, the more he fell in love with you.

When Rayan was born, that was the first time Chris cried from happiness. His first child. He had so many priorities, but maintaining his son was first.

But when his arms held his daughter after she was born, It felt more miraculous than Chris could have imagined. He was beyond happy that he had a daughter.

And that daughter may look like you, but she was Chris' twin. Rayan was a mommy's boy, and Hira was a daddy's girl. They were inseparable. She was a little monkey, trying to climb places, always making a mess in the house and painting the walls with her favorite marker.

And she loves to tease her big brother—a lot.

Rayan was the happiest boy on earth when his parents brought his little sister back home. He went into her room at night when she was crying to calm her down, he was quieter around the house so she could sleep better, and he made sure to help you out by cleaning his room by himself.

But now she was growing up, and he didn't like her as much.

"Mommy, Hira ruined my painting again!"

The only sounds from your son's room were his cry for help and your daughter's mischievous laugh. There was also coming laughter from your husband, who acted like his two-year-old daughter.

"You know, instead of laughing and cheering her on, go there and tell her it's not okay to bother her brother like that."

Chris was Hira's biggest supporter. She couldn't do anything wrong with his eyes. Even when she posted herself on Instagram with a weird caption, he laughed it off and tickled her.

"Ah, come on, it's a little funny. It toughens you up. Besides, every person needs an annoying person while growing up. I always thought Rayan would be that sibling, but it's Hira. It's not a big deal."

This whole banter between the two siblings continued for a while. The only reason was that Rayan was so patient with Hira. He never pushed her, never pranked her back, or never said something hurtful. But she saw this as an opportunity to bother him even more.

Deep down, you wished he did something back, teased her a little too. It felt like you were the worst mother, but you hated seeing your son crying about the paintings he loved to draw for you getting destroyed by a little monkey.

You asked him one day. Why was he so patient with his sister? Why he did nothing back?

"Because, mommy, if I do something back, she will stop. I don't want that. I love spending time with her, even if she teases me."

Right there, at that exact moment, you saw Chris in your boy. His love for his family was immense, and he wouldn't change it for the world, just like Chris.

He listened to the whole conversation right after he put Hira into bed. You were kneeling in front of Rayan with your back to Chris. He didn't see it, but Chris knew your eyes were probably full of tears and your heart was full of love. He felt so proud of his son.

Family is a unique gift that needs to be appreciated and treasured, even when they’re driving you crazy. As much as they make you mad, interrupt you, annoy you, curse at you, try to control you, these are the people who know you the best and who love you.

And Rayan knew this because he had the best role model, his dad.

You couldn't be happier about it.

[rosesloveletters]

violets in the snow.

Pairing: 1971 Willy Wonka x Reader

Word Count: 2,733

Warnings: no major content warnings apply.

Summary: It's Christmas Eve and Reader allows Wonka to open one present early.

Author's Note: I know Gene was Jewish, even though I believe he said he wasn't exactly religious. I have no intention of trying to be offensive/belittle/make light of anyone's religion or beliefs and I apologize if it comes across that way because it is without a doubt not my intention. I simply wrote this as a Christmas fic because that's the holiday I celebrate and I wanted to write reader giving Wonka a sweet gift.  

Edited.

divider created by @/saradika on Tumblr.

Winter winds blustered across the barren landscape beyond the sprawling complex of Wonka Industries. Inside, temperatures were comfortable, but the distant crackling of the fireplace and the holiday decorations you had put up in your shared living space reminded you that the heart of December was far from being thawed. 

It was Christmas eve and you were right where you belonged: snuggled up to your lover’s chest, burrowed beneath a soft knitted blanket of plush purple plum yarn. 

You and Wonka had sipped several mugs of cocoa throughout the evening, keeping yourselves in the festive spirit while also keeping warm and taste-testing a batch of hot chocolate with a brand-new twist that he planned to debut next month.  

Its warming properties had already worked their magic. 

Your outer extremities, fingers and toes which were almost always cold were now warm to the touch and kept you comfortable instead of shivering and feeling lethargic. Wonka’s new hot cocoa worked specifically for people whose blood circulation needed a bit of a boost, especially during the winter. Even if your body typically ran hot, this new hot chocolate benefitted most everyone when the weather turned brutally cold.  

He had been hard at work this season, creating new treats to unveil for the holidays while expediting production for maximum return. He never sacrificed the quality of his confections, however, as he would only promise to deliver the best of the best for his devoted customers across the globe. 

However, Wonka only had to please one heart this Christmas and all his efforts would be worthwhile. 

You did not expect or demand anything of your lover, other than his simple presence in the quaint little life he’d built for you both. You didn’t need gifts or candies or sweets, you needed his sweet mouth to whisper verses into your ear and the gift of his gracefulness as he swept you into his arms and cradled you to his body. 

You wanted presence of mind, not tangible presents. You wanted memories for you and him to hold on to, laughter to warm you on long, winter nights and hours of conversation to carry you through till dawn. 

Wonka could give you that and decided he would stop at nothing to please you in every way he knew how. He would pull out every tool in his arsenal, every scrap of wit on his tongue, fire in his belly, thought in his head and love in his heart to make this most wonderful time of the year more memorable than any you had lived before to date. He had held a heart or two in his time, but yours was worth holding onto. He wanted you to know that you were special beyond words and so he poured his love into you like the waterfall which churned the great chocolate river in his beloved chocolate room. 

You wanted to taste the caramel threads in his blue eyes, to bite his licorice heartstrings and devour his chocolate heart already melted from the warmth of your love. He was the only one you wanted this Christmas, your shimmering sugar rush that set your veins on fire and filled you with energy, motivation and desire. 

You loved everything about him, from his creativity to the unapologetic sincerity of his character. 

Wonka did not let you forget that he was a force to be reckoned with because he set out to teach lessons, give advice and guidance, but there was a side of him that no one knew quite like you did. Even if you questioned him or tried to make sense of it, he found little ways of surprising you without giving you a hint. You could not expect this man to divulge a lifetime of secrets to you in such a short time, yet you dreamed of what the inside of his mind looked like and hoped with all hope that those thoughts in his head were kind. 

There was a lot you knew about Willy Wonka, but far more that you didn’t. That was the fun of him, really, to not know what you were getting into, however, if Wonka guaranteed you one thing, that was consistency.

Nothing about the man ever changed, though his lack of a routine was somewhat maddening, you could count on his actions towards you to remain unchanged. You were careful when entering any relationship, platonic or romantic, because you sustained a permanent soul tremor from plunging through thin ice when you should have tread more carefully. 

Willy treated you the same, on good days and bad; he loved you more than anyone ever had. 

He gave so much and you decided it was high time to repay the favor. 

You got off the couch, extracted yourself from the warmth pocket you had settled into over the course of the evening and walked to the tree you had insisted he help you put up and decorate. He didn’t make a fuss when you asked him to help you decorate the living space; he was pleased that you wanted to bring a little sparkle that he normally would not have created for himself. He was far too busy to fuss over decorations when his candy sales shot through the roof every holiday season, but he made time this year because it was important to you and therefore it was important to him, too. After all, it felt homier to have decorations and he felt much more festive each day when he would look at them. The Christmas spirit was alive in his heart and he owed it more to you than to any mere decoration.

His eyes followed your movement, twin blue flames which had escaped from the fireplace and burned brightly within him instead. He watched as you selected a very specific present from beneath the tree, a flat rectangular box covered in festive wrapping paper and topped with a bright red bow. Wonka raised an eyebrow as you brought it over to him and held it out for him to take. 

He peered at you questioningly as you offered him the gift box, “what’s this for, my dear?”

“Just take it!” you laughed and he finally did, his fingers delicately wrapping around the box as he placed it on his lap. He looked at it for a moment as if he couldn’t believe that any of those presents under the tree were for him.

Who else would they be for?

Wonka looked up at you with a delighted smile on his face, “you know, I thought we were supposed to wait until morning.”

“I know, I know,” you replied, “but whenever I was little, I used to get so excited to open my presents that my parents would let me open one gift on Christmas eve.”

“Ah,” Wonka smiled fondly at your anecdote and nodded in understanding as he glanced down at the present in his lap, “so this one…you’re wanting me to open it now?”

You nodded as you pulled your legs up onto the couch and tucked them under yourself as you sat up a little straighter to watch him open the gift. 

This was your first time sharing Christmas traditions with Wonka; you wanted to share everything with him, and you decided you would start with what was closest to your heart. The season of giving meant tearing off a piece of your soul and pressing it into the folds of a love letter penned for the man who had made you feel whole again. You wanted to dedicate every day to him, not just special ones because when you were with Wonka, every day was special in its own unique way. 

You watched with bated breath as Wonka gently lifted the wrapping paper from where you’d taped up the end. He ever so carefully peeled back the folded edge, then cheekily tore into it like he were an excited child on Christmas morning. You watched him fondly, wishing to reach out and touch him, to brush his strawberry blonde curls out of his face, but you knew that would ruin the moment. Instead, you merely watched him open the present, eager to get to the inside and see what it was that you simply could not wait to give him until the morning. 

“Hm, let’s see here…” Wonka hummed to himself as he flipped the now unwrapped box over. It was clear that this was a shirt box, although that gave away little information as to what kind of shirt it was. 

Willy began to peel back several pieces of tape where you’d secured the box before wrapping it. 

“I hope you like it,” you whispered, uncertain what his reaction was going to be when he saw what you’d gotten for him, “if not, I’m sure I could return it.”

“Nonsense, my dear,” Willy looked up at you, his blue gaze was one of reassurance, “I’m certain that I will love it.”

Not as much as you, my dear.

Willy removed the rest of the tape from the box and flipped it over, then lifted the top. Inside was several layers of red tissue paper to conceal the gift and Willy sifted through to find what you had hidden inside the packaging for him. He brushed the paper to the side and his fingers brushed fabric. He was intrigued; the material was unlike anything in his current wardrobe. 

He lifted it out of the box, the piece of fabric unfolding as he did so and he held it up. 

It was a gorgeous, rich plum color that matched his coat, except this article of clothing was a sweater. It appeared to be handmade with thick yarn, perfect for colder weather, and was soft to the touch like crushed velvet. He admired the sweater and his hands caressed the sleeves, appreciating the finer details: the curved neckline and fitted hem and cuffs as well as the oversized fit which would hang loosely off his broad frame – you had sized it impeccably to fit his body type and preference. 

“You always wear the same thing, not that I’m implying it as a bad thing, but I thought you might want to switch it up from time to time,” you tried to explain, “so I had the idea of getting you a sweater because I thought it might be warmer and I picked the color to match your coat. I wasn’t sure if you would like it, but I can always find you something else, if you-”

He cut you off midsentence and you blushed as you realized how much you had been rambling; His speaking voice took on the gentlest tone you had ever heard, “I love it. Thank you, my dear.”

You were about to insist that he didn’t have to lie to you, but the words died on your tongue as you watched him slide his arms into the sweater and pull it on over his head. When his head popped out from the neckline, you nearly giggled at his frizzy, wild hair which was mussed from pulling the material over his head. There was no controlling it; his hair was unmanageable on a good day and besides, it was the last thing on his mind currently. 

He was too busy admiring the sweater you had gifted him, his round, rosy cheeks bulged at the edges of a smile, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes becoming more prominent as he squinted in delight. To say he was pleased was an understatement. Wonka appreciated all gifts he was given because he was always grateful and honored to be worthy of someone wanting to bestow a gift upon him, but this was something of great wonder. You had chosen this gift because it had reminded you of him, at least, the color had done. 

Judging by his sweater paws, you had chosen the right size. Wonka liked oversized outer vestments and this was the perfect touch; he looked precious in it, swimming in the warm wool that enveloped his body in warmth and comfort like a big hug. 

“It looks even better on you than I thought it would,” you complimented him, giving him a satisfied smile as he looked over at you with love in his eyes, “I’m happy that you like it.”

“I love it,” he repeated, resisting the urge to hug himself as he deliberately snuggled into the sweater for emphasis, “and I think it’ll see a lot of wear this winter, if it’s going to be as cold as is being predicted.” 

You nodded. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, he looked so sweet in the sweater, his eyes lit up with excitement and his hands still appreciating the incredibly soft fabric. Wonka’s mannerisms were like that of a small child, despite his age; he was ecstatic over being given a present and offered you many more thanks as you sat beside him on the sofa. 

He leaned over and scooped you into a full-bodied hug where you almost ended up on his lap because he was so eager to hold you against him. You let out a sweet bout of laughter and kissed his warm cheek, making him coo and nuzzle against your neck a little bit.

“I love you, my dear,” he whispered in your ear, “thank you for this, truly.”

“You’re welcome, Willy. You deserve it.”

You deserve the entire world and I’d give it to you in a heartbeat if it were mine to give. 

You didn’t say those words, but even never voiced, he knew. He could see the sentiment reflected in the depths of your eyes, which was perhaps why he lost himself in them so often. The echoes of words you never said reverberated against the walls of his heart and he could feel them bludgeoning the inside of his ribcage with a barrage of activity the likes of which his cardiovascular system had never endured before. It was comparable to butterflies taking flight in his stomach, except this didn’t make him feel like he might spill his guts.

Instead, his heart swelled with affection, he viewed the world in colors you had taught him to see and he lived life with new purpose. His dreams held meaning and he finally understood what it was all for. Perhaps it was the magic of the holidays that permeated the air and embedded in his bones, but he was content to live the rest of his life like this. He felt as though he was seeing for the very first time, kissing you was the first sip of water taken after being dehydrated, his grip on you stronger than gravity. 

You were who his heart belonged to and if his heart were an apartment, you had rented the biggest room. 

He was violently delighted by the promise of the new year and what was to come for the two of you, but for now, he was content to succumb to his need for peace, quiet and relaxation amid his company’s busiest season. You offered him reprieve from the bustle of the holidays and he would sink into the refreshing haze, allowing himself to be swept away by you and the love you both had to give. 

You would take this moment, just for the two of you, seizing it and holding it in the palm of your hand. You would never let go, of him, of this holiday, of your love. It meant far too much to you now, having finally learnt why you spent your whole life trying to put into words how a moment like this might feel. 

Now, you knew. 

You did not have to try, you only had to feel. 

When anyone asked you what your favorite color was, you got vulnerable because your skin was berry-stained, your bruised heart abused by the love it was forced to feel now that you ached for the cookie-cutter metal stars to punch holes through your lungs so you could breathe him in more strongly. 

He was all over you and you clung to him like the most resilient flowers in winter, like violets in the snow. 

“Now, darling,” Wonka began, hands on his knees as he hoisted himself off the couch and approached the hoard of gifts beneath your tree, “I do believe there’s something under here for you…”

[uselessbard1031]

Orphaning My Old Work???

Howdy everyone!

I'll keep this short, but I just wanted to hop on and let you all know that today I orphaned some of my old works on Ao3. I've been wanting to do so for over a year now and finally bit the bullet. Yes, this includes my most popular fic "Legend of Korra X Reader Oneshots" (for anyone whose request I didn't get to, I apologize. I bit off way way more than I could chew with that and have over thirty requests and a dozen half finished fics).

Why?

Well, when I started writing fanfiction for Ao3 I was 17/18 years old. I started publishing said fanfiction at 18/19/20 (19? I think?) and I am now in my mid-twenties so...I've changed. Lol. I've grown up.

When I first started writing I was immature and unexperienced with the world. I wrote for characters I never had attraction to myself (Ex. Adult! Toph, Suyin, Korra, Asami) because people asked me to, I saw those characters got hits, and I wanted to be liked online. It was hard because I didn't see them as romantic interests and I feel the writing suffered for that. Even 'I Bought A War Criminal' (another popular fic I wrote) I fell out of love with Kuvira while writing and it had a rushed ending due to that fact.

The X readers in particular had some smut chapters that explored kinks I don't have and truthfully had never even heard of until reading some other fanfictions. I won't get too personal, but, like many of us on here, I was exposed to way too much shit way too soon in my life so I found new edgy smut topics to keep me engaged. I've since dealt with some of that trauma and also experienced more IRL trauma around relationships and sexuality that make me read some stuff I wrote -- and stuff I READ while underage -- (ex. knife play, non-con, etc) and go woah hey who let me have Wattpad at 12 and what kind of effect did that shit have because--??? (I would like to say that being into certain kinks is not bad and I'm not trying to kink shame but to me I was desensitized due to exposure too young to NSFW material and due to some IRL trauma -- reading and writing that was my way to cope without actually working through any issues. An unhealthy way to cope. I didn't know healthy relationships because everyone in my life up to that point had abused me or hurt me in some way or another either intentionally or unintentionally so I figured Ao3 / Wattpad / Fanfic.net smut wasn't 'that bad'. Now, I deal with my trauma in healthier ways and realize it's just not what I'm into. A lot of it I wasn't even into when I wrote it. But I read it, so I wrote it. Even recently with Outlander I wrote wildshape smut not because I was into it but because all the other Jaheira fics had it and I figured hey it will get views. Because yes, smut gets views).

I'm just not proud of the writing quality. The first chapter of that X Reader Oneshots collection switches tenses like a million times. Who let me do that? Lol. I have a published book IRL that I'm taking down too because omg don't let 17 year olds self-publish XD

The point is, I never really wrote much of that stuff for me. I wrote it to get views. To get comments. To explore things I thought I was suppose to explore. Because no one in my real life was telling me I was good or capable. I wanted reassurance that I was writing the 'edgiest' stuff or the 'fluffiest' or the 'right characters' and the 'right stories'.

Going forward, I want to write for me. It's why I've moved fandoms because yes, I love Legend of Korra and Lin Beifong, but I'm not obsessed with it like I was. I found community in LOK and in AO3 and online in general but, after getting offline -- deleting social media -- reading things other than fanfiction -- basically, as I became less chronically online for the first time since Middle School, I realized that there's so much more out there that I enjoy. And much healthier ways to enjoy it.

I love all of the support you guys have given me and I stand by the amazing love and community I've gotten from all of my commenters and kudos-ers. But those fics just don't represent me anymore. Few of them ever represented me at all. Many were just what I thought would 'sell'.

I want to keep writing, so I will. But for the stories and characters I want to write about in ways that I actually enjoy. I want cute romances and metaphores for life. Writing smut feels like a chore most of the time so I'll probably just fade to black most of the time with a chapter or two exception. I still love fanficton -- it's an artform all its own. But yeah. Anyways, I hope my little ramble here makes sense and I hope you all get what I'm trying to say.

And if you are like past me -- having interacted with the internet and NSFW and smut since a young age and now feeling like every boundary isn't enough in fiction (*clears throat* I see you BookTok wth r those abusive ass relationships you're reading?) just know that maybe that kind of content isn't good for you and know that vanilla isn't lame. Know that you can write the stories and characters you want and that you don't have to write characters you don't want to write or situations that scare you. And you don't have to pretend not to be scared just for the sake of not kink-shaming.

Yeah. Anyway, if ya'll have any questions fell free to reach out to me! I hope you continue to like my work and if you don't, that's fine too. I hope you don't feel like I'm abandoning you. I think I'm just growing up and getting better mentally. <3

~UselessBard1031

[specters0rd]

Operation: Cure MC's Sadness.

-------------------------

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Genre: Hurt Comfort

Words: 1,503

Chapter: Prologue

A/N: I greatly apologize for possibly making the guys OOC, it’s a been a while since I wrote a fanfic (let alone a series) and not to mention my first ever fic for Ikevamp. Sooo… Scheduling for the other fics? I’m still figuring it out given that it took me a while to even finish this up, but I’ll make sure to post teasers here and there. I’m also still figuring out how to bring in Vlad and his minions in as well as connect Sebby & Will into this. If you got any suggestions for any the guys (except for Vincent and Theo, they’re the ones that made me want to do this and first one I came up with) don’t be afraid to suggest them in my ask box, reblog, and comments!

taglist: @natimiles @bicayaya @koco-coko

------------------------------

The poking from the beams had sobered up MC who wasn't sure if they actually slept or not, the eyes cloudy and slightly dry as they could barely make out the ceiling and orange sunlight stabbing them in one side. While a grunt escaped from their lips as their hands rubbed off the blurry dryness while they tried to recall last night, their body slumped over as they took a moment to admire the decor of the bedroom, especially with the painting they had the privilege to choose all thanks to a certain devil art-dealer. MC’s mouth couldn't stop themselves from curling up with fondness before falling as last night came rushing back to them. While they threw their blankets and legs over the side to get up, the urge to zone out and actually process everything finally took over, not surprising since a situation like this is quite... The story one can say. Once upon a month, MC was enjoying her time at the Louvre before being thrown into some kind of Alice in Wonderland plot with time, historical  figures and vampires. What a YA fantasy-historical novel! Now this main character is… Stuck with no way back.

"Righttt... Homesickness. It's only been like... Two weeks since the damn door broke?" They whispered to themselves as they tried their best to read the clock; a skill that they still haven't mastered even a month in this mansion, tragic honestly. A hushed curse escaped from their mouth as they could guess roughly that they had 15 minutes or less to hop in and help Sebstain with breakfast. This only leads to more… Cursing from the struggling dork who’s playing detective right now over socks. Yes, over socks.

“You still haven’t broken that habit of yours, have you?” A chuckle from the butler as he broke the bloke’s case with a swift point of his finger to the clue; socks had been under the bed the whole time. This left the victim of messiness and forgetfulness to facepalm in shame once again.

“Oh god damn it. Thanks, Sebastian.” MC shook their head as they quickly snatched the socks and threw them on along with their high-quality shoes whilst Sebastian stood still at the door. A quick glance could tell the man before them was more concerned than the usual exasperation; they could feel the guilt sink in as the butler sighed.

“As much as I wanna don’t wanna push you to talk, MC, I think now is the time you open up. Especially because it’s clearly affecting your sleep and work.” The man spoke with seriousness and softness as he signaled to follow him towards the inevitable; a mansion meeting.  

“Never thought I’d have an intervention…” MC joked as they followed aside the butler shaking his head at them, the fingers squeezing the bridge of his nose.

“You wouldn't have one if you didn't try to pull the workaholic route for solving your problems...” 

“Ah, Fair point.”

------------------------------------

“And here I thought Theo was bad…”

“Oh shut it, Arthur. You're one to talk here.” 

Theo shot a glare at his typical flippant frenemy as Arthur's attempt to soft the atmosphere slightly failed. MC's mind was fried at this point so even bickering didn't help nor rubbing their temples and guilt away.

“Was that really bad? God…” MC knew it was a rhetorical question especially with the sympathetic and annoyed looks at the table.

“I don't know what your definition of “bad” is, but typically, bumping into paintings, eye-bags, and breaking plates more than you usually do is quite bad, Hondje " Theodorus leaned back in his chair as his blues scolded the “family dog”.

“Not to mention forgetting food and leaving cups of coffee behind,” Mozart added as he took a bite of his breakfast, paying no mind to the soft glares from Napoleon, Issac, and Vincent.

Arthur shifted closer in his chair as his hands intertwined on the table; a sigh escaped from his lips.

“They are starting to get the point, lads. It's about time to start getting to the heart of the matter now.” Arthur gave a soft chuckle, the seriousness never leaving his eyes as he continued.  “So, do you think you can explain why exactly that's causing this? Or is this workaholic habit the whole reason you haven't talked about it at all?” He arched his brow at them as he noticed MC immediately trying to puzzle it.

“I think the answer is quite obvious, but hey…” A voice hunches over Arthur, making the man jump and almost flings his coffee across the room.

“OH JESUS,MARY, AND JOSEPH. USE THE BLOODY DAMN DOOR DAZAI.” Arthur cursed at the tardy man before him who just closed the window behind the mystery writer, his glare never leaving him as Leonardo with the help of Jean drags Dazai and throws him into a chair. 

A smile never leaves the eccentric, in fact, it only widens when looked at MC’s reaction. Not even the patriarch's glare seems to wipe it off him.

MC was trying to hold back their laughter at the scene before immediately stopping when eyes were all on them, a sense of anxiety in the pit of their stomach as they spoke.

“Well, yeah…  It's pretty obvious for the perceptive folks here. I'm just gonna assume you want more details from me, right Arthur?” They looked at Arthur for confirmation, which earned a quick nod from him as he checked if his good old suit survived.

“Well…” They paused for a moment to gather their thoughts and ease the tightness of their throat. “I'm starting to think it finally dawned on me that I can’t go home yet… And the fact I never really fully processed everything. I kinda just threw myself into the chores. I mean it helps! Only to the point though… I think? Ugh…”

A comforting hand from Vincent laid on MC’s shoulder, noticing they were shaking at little.  While MC smiled at him, they looked back to see everyone contemplating how to solve the issue now they got the reason for. 

Comte took a moment to look at the clock before letting out a sigh.

“Well, one thing is certain, you need to take a break.” Comte paused for a moment before smiling. “Make that a week-long break.”

MC arched a brow at him before she felt a poke on the head by Napoleon, they looked up to see his smirk.

“Yes, MC, it's fine! You really need to work on that workaholic habit, I swear.”

A small croak, or well more like a tiny squeak, interrupted the moment. Issac was trying to say something and it ended up… An awkward way to make himself known.

“Ahem…” The physicist paused for a moment while trying to fight off his embarrassment. If MC wasn't giving Dazai and Arthur death glares, Issac would’ve been eaten alive… Well, for now.

“I was wondering what MC wants to do on their break… I mean, not sure if I can do much, but I'm free if you need someone to hangout with or… Vent too.” Issac lightly scratches the curve of his cheek with a sheepish smile.

“Not really sure either… But I'm all ears if you want to do something…” Jean chimed in with an earnest look in his eye despite how deadpanned his voice sounded.

Leo clicked his tongue as he thought of what he could do. “I mean, I’m sure if I have the time right now. Given Comte and I had an appointment with-”

“I mean, MC can accompany us with that invitation we got from my good old friend I haven’t seen in a while-.”

“Hold it guys. You're all getting ahead of yourselves there.” MC chuckles as they pop the last croissant in their mouth. 

“I’m assuming that at least most of you are gonna… I don't know. Try and ease me by making me chill and hangout with you all?” 

“Call this operation: Cure MC’s sadness” Dazai wiggled his eyebrows as his grin widened at the eye rolls he got from some of the folks at the table.

“Well, first of all it's not most of us…” Mozart huffed a little. “And second of all, it's nothing grand to try to help someone.” He side-eyed a pouty Dazai.

“Hmm… How about this? We all have a set week to make time for MC during their break.” Sebastian proposed to everyone as he picked up dishes to clean.

MC put a hand to their chin as they thought about it.

“I don't mind the idea, but how about each of you are duos!”

“What do you mean?” Vincent asked as he tilted his head to the side a little whilst everyone was either just as curious or slightly skeptical.

“Well, two of you each hangout with me on different days”. MC looked around to see everyone’s reactions before landing on Sebastian.

“Of course, I wish we could hangout too, but-”

“We’ll figure it out, don't you worry, MC.” Sebastian said before leaving towards the kitchen.

--------------------------------

[ravenna222]

An unexpected beginning

Lmao sorry about the half-assed title, this is my first fic and I'm pretty nervous about it

Not to mention I wrote this in 10 minutes out of impulsivity so don't expect any quality writing really

Warnings: none (extremely sappy ending and possibly out of character sae)

pure fluff ♡

| slow burn | romance | engagement |

"Sae!"

"What now?"

"I told you it's fine, I don't need a bigger one, the one you got me is just fine!"

Your boyfriend, now future fiancé, was being a pain in the ass. It's difficult to discern what's going through his mind, and god damn how helpful it would be to know sometimes. Itoshi Sae is a mystery to everyone, no one can fathom the emotions behind those bored eyes, apart from you. Let's say to you he's more of a puzzle, you've put a part of it together, the outer parts, but you're struggling tremendously on the inside. To think you were just a waitress at a coffee shop he'd always go to extremely early before practice so he could avoid any unwanted paparazzi encounter, always wearing a black cap and a pair of sunglasses. In the beginning he never quite stood out to you, I mean he was just a simple guy in a simple outfit, the same old sweatpants and sweater, there was nothing quite particular about him. Perhaps that was before you had gotten a clear glimpse of the sea of emeralds hidden under those shades.

You remember it clearly, it was as if a fever hit you. They were dull, yes there was certainly no denying that, but they were deep and alluring. You had been bewitched! Or maybe unknowingly it was the other way round. Sae is so used to being recognised wherever he treads, taunted by the paparazzi, tormented by fans, oh and don't get him started on the constant buzz of his phone. It was nice, almost refreshing, being treated like a normal person.

Whenever he passed by he always hoped it was you who served him, you treated him like another client, unlike your colleagues who would constantly fawn over him, hearing mumbles and squeals such as "omg the sae itoshi", "i can't believe he's right in front of me!"

Perhaps it was because you too were a foreigner, another thing which brought you both closer, you didn't watch football apart from the occasional international match but overall the sport isn't very popular in your country, hence you didn't know who he was. Overtime you figured it out, a football prodigy, "Japan's national treasure", though it didn't mean much to you, you were a simple waitress working a part time job whilst studying at a University in Madrid.

You two were foreigners still adapting to a new lifestyle, a new culture, a new language.

Initially there would be a mere exchange of words, moreso you trying to awkwardly start a conversation: "How was your coffee?", "Would you like to try our new freshly baked pastries?" But Sae hated small talk, yet he seemed to find the energy to not glare at you every time you spoke.

He's known for his lean and muscular body, slowly earning the title of sex symbol, his flawless facial alignments, those enchanting eyes, however he was also known for his "do not waste my time" attitude, but somehow it made him appear even sexier to the public, certainly not to the poor interviewers who had to suffer in silence.

One time he was rushing away from the paparazzi, you were just opening the café as he rushed in almost making you fall. 'How rude' you thought, 'not even an apology?'

But those thoughts quickly vanished into thin air when you were met with pleading eyes. He wanted to get away from all the reporters, the people, the world. He was almost panicking. He could usually deal with everyone by brushing them off with that nonchalant stare of his, but today was different. He had enough. Thankfully you were the only one there at the time so you decided to hide him in the backroom, where you brought him a glass of water to calm down. Five minutes later, with all the paparazzi gone, he came out of his hiding spot and with a half-assed 'thank you' he made his way out. Gosh you were furious, nonetheless a crimson red flushed your cheeks. A note with his number and a little thank you written below.

And that's how it all started, to think you would be already picking your engagement ring after 3 years of dealing with this man. He proposed to you during a midnight walk along the seaside, Sae has always found comfort in the sea and that's why there was no better place to propose, but there was one problem: the ring. Even though the ring he got you was one he knew you'd like, he thought it was unworthy of you because it was so small, he wanted everything to be perfect and he wanted to make sure you were happy with the ring. It was nothing too extravagant or big, it was simple but embellished just right

"Seriously Sae, love it. Stop being so stubborn! It's perfect for me, gosh. Why are you worrying so much about this?"

Sae groaned, he was definitely being too worrisome about this and he was well aware of it.

"Y/n, I don't want to make any mistakes-"

"Sae, sweety, I love you and I love this ring. Now can we go home and get some rest? The shop's about to close".

"Yeah sure, but don't go complaining or flip out on me if you suddenly don't like it".

You laugh to yourself, hopefully you're going to be stuck with this drama queen for the rest of your life.

[kennmarsh]

I'm so sorry to ask but is there a reason you deleted your stenny fic? there was two chapters and I was SO invested in it, I was really sad to see it deleted :(

oh my gosh you don’t need to apologize, i’m so sorry! i deleted it because working on it was starting to feel like a chore and i wasn’t really sure where i was going with it in the middle parts, plus i just wasn’t a huge fan of how my writing was since the editing was a bit rushed :( also weekly updates were kinda stressin me out and affecting the writing quality as well. on old accounts i mostly wrote angst so it was a bit difficult to break away from that, which might be part of the reason as well, but i do plan on reviving it at some point with a more fleshed-out plot and less sloppy editing! i just took it down for now just to kind of get shit in order :) STILL I’M SO SORRY OMG i can always send you a link to the deleted chapters/draft of chapter three if you’d like!!

[honeycreammilkshake]

Oh and another thing those gojo fanatics are spreading rumours that the manga was cancelled because he killed gojo and that's why the rushed ending that sukuna killed the manga (despite selling so well)

Just....I really hope gege shuts them up for good last chapter

i'm sorry, anon. i wrote a whole rant about this in reply but accidentally deleted it. probably for the best bc it's already the stuff i've said before.

gojo fanatics make absolutely everything about him even though it takes away from the actual meaning and importance of the story. apparently yuuji should've died to go be with gojo, sukuna was a "fraud" and couldn't possibly have won (i have no idea what that means honestly, it's so untrue), and to them the whole story went down in quality after gojo died.

there are so many unkind and extremely hurtful comments i've seen on the online manga sites about how gege really "messed up" by killing off gojo and how the story is worthless since then.

gege himself doesn't really like gojo (they said they wrote gojo as too powerful, so it's hard to get gojo into any real danger) and was glad to be able to stop having to write about him. but fans treat gege like a villain for ending gojo's story in a way that has both meaning and importance to the overall series. fans just can't accept that gege did the best they could and didn't want to keep writing gojo because it was getting too difficult to do so.

they have no respect that gege, as the author, is entitled to make these decisions. they relegate every other character to the side and even ignore gojo's problematic traits just to keep worshipping him.

i'm being really bitter about it but i'm seriously so tired that people think they can send actual death threats and hate comments because their "precious mc deserved better."

you know who actually deserves better? gege. gege and yuuji. they deserve so many apologies for the way fans have treated both of them.

i'm glad you shared your thoughts with me, anon. hopefully all the toxic gojo fans leave soon and make this place better for those who actually see gojo as just another interesting jjk character without having to make everything about him.

[andromida-wof]

SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG IM DOING TWO AT A TIME BUUUUUUT can ya guess who I'm doing next?!?! I M K I D D I N G next I'm doing everyone's fave bookworm STARFLIGHT his option in the pole won by a LANDSLIDE and BOY do I have ideas for this one HEHEHEHE

So I'm imagining nightwings being just a LITTLE bit chubby as well as being shorter than most dragons to go along with Sunny being the smallest, im thinking some MAY be kind of malnurished due to the poor food quality thing (dont worry no spoilers) I also HAD to go along with the sort of headcannon mabye cannon now? That their wings have a space look to them (omg infact I'm makeing my own headcannon now :0 they identify each other by what constellations they have on their wings!! Becoues their scales are so uniform) I think it's so cute how fatespeaker is so sweet and hyperactive comaired to most other nightwings which is why I wrote hyper or edge personality (I apologize for the writing on this one I was rushing)

[kringletheelf04]

Charlie's best night ever

(Chapter one of Wrapped in love!)

I hear a commotion and rush downstairs. In the door way is dad hissing at mom? Making my way into the living room I see Charlie staring in wonderment at the colored lights adorning the tree, a giant, color changing star sits on the very top. Ornaments we've made over the years are speckled throughout the tree. Charlie and I's faces are framed and hung near the top. That picture was taken the Christmas before the divorce. I remember how all Charlie asked for that Christmas was for the fighting to stop. It's sad when a 4 year old asks to keep their family together. I wrote a letter as 'Santa' to apologize. I wrote that it was out of my hands and that if they were happier apart that you should be happy for them. I remember the downtrodden look he had after reading the letter. I had started work as a librarian rather than go off to college. I had to keep dad afloat. If I wasn't here I don't know what he would have done.

"Why do they always have to fight?" Charlie urged.

"Dad's just playing. You know how he is." I give him a side hug.

I hear the door shut and dad walks into the room.

"Your mother said that you no longer believe in Santa. Is that true?" Dad asks, hand on Charlie's shoulder.

"Santa's for babies!" Charlie shrugs.

"I believe in Santa, and so does dad. Are we babies?" I ask.

"Well, I guess if you believe, I can too. Since you're so smart you'd know what's real and what's not." Charlie smiles up at us.

"That's better! Now how 'bout I make you two the best Christmas dinner you've ever had?" Dad pulls out a cookbook and thumbs through the first few pages for poultry.

"8 hours! If I turn the heat up high, it will cook faster." Dad whispers to himself.

Charlie gives me a knowing look and I stick out my tongue, making him giggle. He pulls me by my sleeve into the living room.

"Let's watch the muppets Christmas carol!" He says, turning on the roku and putting Disney plus on.

"Oooh, you know me too well buddy!" I plop down beside him.

The credits begin to roll when smoke comes billowing out of the kitchen. Through it dad can be seen using a fire extinguisher on the turkey.

"I think dad needs some help." Charlie nudges me.

"Yeah, let's go help him sport." I say getting up and walking to the archway of the kitchen as Charlie follows me and climbs into a chair.

"Need some help?" I lean into the arch.

"Help?! No! Everything's fine!" Dad whips his head to us, moving to block the sight of the burnt turkey.

" That is exactly why you want a high-quality fire extinguisher right in the kitchen." He waves smoke away.

"Those flames were really big, dad!" Charlie flaps his arms.

"Yeah, turkey's funny like that." Dad excuses his idiocy as flames engulf the turkey.

"Dad!" We shout as I point behind him.

He douses the turkey with foam and wipes the sweat from his brow.

"It's done." I joke.

Dad glares lightly and responds "Let's just go out to eat!"

We pile into the car and begin to drive, dad naming off several restaurants then disappointingly sighing at them being closed. We soon come to Denny's. It's probably the only thing open at this time of night on Christmas Eve.

"How about Dennys, sport?" I turn and ask him.

"I don't wanna eat here!" Charlie sticks his tongue out, and shakes his head.

"Well sport, it's the only thing open and I don't think we want another turkey debacle." I say opening the car door and unloading him.

"What are you talkin' about? Everybody likes Denny's." Dad crosses his arms. "It's an American institution!"

"Sure dad." I hold Charlie's hand as we enter the restaurant.

"Are you with Hatsutashi?" The hostess asks.

"No!" Dad starts before Charlie interrupts.

"Dad burnt the turkey!" Charlie says one hand on his hip.

"Oh, yeah. This way. Come on. Right over there." She points to one of the only open booths.

We sit down and two servers walk up.

"Hi, I'm Judy and this is Bernard. I'm training him tonight so he's gonna help out with your table." The lady now identified as Judy explains.

"Coffee?" The man offers.

"Yes please!" I hold up my mug.

"What do you say we start out with cold glasses of delicious seasonal favourite eggnog?" Dad suggests.

"Dad, he's a kid. He doesn't like eggnog." I advise him.

"We're out" the lady snaps.

"Ok then, he'll have chocolate milk." I nod to Charlie.

"Ooh, sorry we're out." The man says sheepishly.

"Plain milk's fine." Charlie sighs.

The woman walks away as the man scrambles after her.

"At least we know they got hot apple pie!" Dad smiles.

"We did!" The lady's calls to him.

His smile drops and we order our food, eat, pay, tip, and load back into the car.

We go back inside and I carry Charlie up into his room, dad following close behind.

Dad busts out the ancient night before Christmas book. He reads about half way through before Charlie interrupts.

"What's that?"

"What's what?" Dad queries.

"A rose suchak ladder?" He sounds out.

"It's arose such a clatter, sport. Arose means it came and clatter is a loud noise. So it means there was a lot of noise." I tuck him in.

"Yes, now, please, go to sleep. Shut your eyes." Dad stands up, not finishing the story.

"How do reindeers fly?" Charlie asks.

"Antlers. You know, ther-- ther-- there's a slipstream effect-- The air go--T-They move fa-- They're weightless." Dad stutters out.

"The only reason they can fly, is 'cuz they think they can fly. Like bees sport." I kiss his forehead.

"That makes sense. Good night dad! Goodnight (y/n)!" Charlie calls out.

We close the door and dad turns to me.

"Thanks for saving me back there (y/n)." Dad pats my back and walks me to my room.

"Anytime dad, anytime." I smile at him.

"Now, don't stay up too late. Charlie is sure to wake us up early in the morning to open presents." Dad warns.

"I know dad," I close the door.

Kneeling down beside my bed, I pull out a tote full of gifts to wrap for Charlie from 'Santa'. I begin wrapping and after three hours all the presents are wrapped. Suddenly I hear something weird. Like someone's walking on the roof. But that would be impossible. I slide the tote back under my bed and focus on the noise coming from above me. A small hand grabs mine and I jump. Turning around I see Charlie with wide eyes.

"I heard a clatter!" He cries.

"Yes, yes I know. You go get dad and I'll go out and check. Don't you worry sport." I ruffle his hair.

He nods and runs off to wake dad. I rush down the stairs and throw on my shoes. Opening the door I run out, nearly falling and busting my ass. Getting outside I see the impossible, someone walking of the roof of the house.

"Hey you!" I yell out.

Suddenly the man falls and plummets from the roof the same moment dad and Charlie arrive outside.

"You got him!" Charlie cheers.

"Stay there!" I call to them, but they don't listen.

"It is santa! You killed him!" Charlie pokes the man.

"They did not!" Dad moves closer.

"And he's not Santa sport" I pull him away.

"Well, he was." He says.

I move forward and reach out towards the man. "Fella, if you can hear me, I'm just lookin' for your identification. Once I figure out who ya are, I'll-- I'll give you a lift back to the mall."

I reach inside his coat pocket and pull out a small business card.

"lf something should happen to me, put on my suit. The reindeer will know what to do." I read out.

"Yeah right." Dad scoffs.

I look back down to check on the man but I find nothing but a pile of clothes.

"He disappeared." I gasp.

"He's naked somewhere!" Dad says like that was an option.

"You gonna put on the suit like the suit said?" Charlie asks me.

"Maybe in a minute sport. It is cold out here." I pat his head.

We turn around to see a ladder suddenly from the pavement to the roof.

Charlie runs up to it.

"It's the ladder!" He gasps.

"What?!" Dad demands.

"The rose suchac ladder company" Charlie reads out. "Like in the poem!"

"In the poem?" Dad shakes his head.

Charlie starts climbing the ladder and is soon on the roof.

"Get down from there Charlie!" Dad calls after him.

"You just gotta see this!" Charlie calls down to us.

Dad climbs after him. I'm freezing my ass off here so I might as well put on these pants. Pulling them on and putting on the matching coat I can feel a strange warmth permeate my very bones. I follow dad onto the roof.

"Hey sport, why don't you step back from them. I don't want you to get sick." I whisk Charlie into the sleigh.

"Easy Rudolph!" Dad shrugs at the reindeer.

"Check out Santa's sleigh!" Charlie calls to dad.

Dad trudges over to us and into the sleigh.

"There's no such thing as Santa's sleigh." Dad places his hands on his hips.

"Sure there is. You said you believed in Santa, right?" I glare at him.

"I did? I do!" He corrects himself.

"What about the reindeer? These are Santa's reindeer, aren't they?" Charlie thinks.

"I hope not." I mutter.

"I hope not. These are, uh, a gift! Probably from the cable company. We're getting the Disney Channel now. Merry Christmas." Dad rattles off.

"Now hop out now!" Dad scolds.

"I don't wanna go!" Charlie pouts.

"Listen, Charlie. I'm not kidding. Let's go!" He yells.

Suddenly the sleigh takes off, dad toppling over into the back bench, upside down. Charlie takes the reins and I help him. The sleigh lands on a roof.

"Now what do we do?" I ask dad and Charlie.

"Get the bag full of toys!" Charlie points to a sack I didn't notice before.

"(Y/n)! Don't you dare!" Dad scolds.

I grab the bag and step out of the sleigh.

"Sorry dad." I say shrugging.

Suddenly I'm rising into the air, being dragged by the bag and I'm sucked down a chimney.

"What the fuck was that?" I ask myself.

"Guess I gotta deliver the gifts." I say gently placing them under the tree.

I hear a growl and turn around to see a Rottweiler baring his teeth at me.

"It's ok! I'm here to deliver presents!" I whisper yell at it.

It whines and turns around, trotting out of the room.

"How the fuck did that work?" I question, getting sucked up back the chimney.

I land back onto the roof. Dads face is shocked and Charlie is delighted.

"How'd it feel?!" Charlie asks.

"Like americas most wanted. Now let's go!" I climb into the sleigh and we take off just to land on a near by house.

"There's no chimney guys!" I tell the reindeer, like a crazy person.

The bag lifts me up anyway and I began to plea with it. Suddenly I am forced down a smoke stack and out a chimney that wasn't there seconds before. I fall onto my ass and stand up rubbing it. I begin to put toys under the tree when I hear a gasp. Turning around I see a little girl.

"Santa?!" She gasps.

"Close, but I'll give it to ya." I grin at her.

"How come your clothes are so baggy?" She tilts her head.

"Because I need to layer up so I'm not cold." I pull out of my ass.

"And how come you've got glasses?"

"Santa's eyes aren't so good." I straighten my back for effect.

"How come you're not a boy?"

"Who said Santa's gotta be a boy?" I gleam.

"You've got to drink the milk!" She points to a cup of milk that's sat out for who knows how long.

"Sorry Sarah, I'm lactose intolerant." I smile softly at her.

"How did you know my name?" She asks.

How did I?

"Because I know everything. And I know you should be asleep by now. So off you go!" I usher her back to the couch.

I walk back into the chimney and get sucked back up.

"How'd you get in without a fireplace?" Charlie bounces.

"Yeah, how did you?" Dad joins in.

"I don't know. One just kinda appeared." I shrug.

"Take us back home guys!" I crack the reins and we become airborne.

After a while we arrive in a small patch of land covered in snow and surrounded by pine trees. What the hell is this place?

[mariacallous]

Google was forced to turn off the image-generation capabilities of its latest AI model, Gemini, last week after complaints that it defaulted to depicting women and people of color when asked to create images of historical figures that were generally white and male, including vikings, popes, and German soldiers. The company publicly apologized and said it would do better. And Alphabet’s CEO, Sundar Pichai, sent a mea culpa memo to staff on Wednesday. “I know that some of its responses have offended our users and shown bias,” it reads. “To be clear, that’s completely unacceptable, and we got it wrong.”

Google’s critics have not been silenced, however. In recent days conservative voices on social media have highlighted text responses from Gemini that they claim reveal a liberal bias. On Sunday, Elon Musk posted screenshots on X showing Gemini stating that it would be unacceptable to misgender Caitlyn Jenner even if this were the only way to avert nuclear war. “Google Gemini is super racist and sexist,” Musk wrote.

A source familiar with the situation says that some within Google feel that the furor reflects how norms about what it is appropriate for AI models to produce are still in flux. The company is working on projects that could reduce the kinds of issues seen in Gemini in the future, the source says.

Google’s past efforts to increase the diversity of its algorithms’ output have met with less opprobrium. Google previously tweaked its search engine to show greater diversity in images. This means more women and people of color in images depicting CEOs, even though this may not be representative of corporate reality.

Google’s Gemini was often defaulting to showing non-white people and women because of how the company used a process called fine-tuning to guide a model’s responses. The company tried to compensate for the biases that commonly occur in image generators due to the presence of harmful cultural stereotypes in the images used to train them, many of which are generally sourced from the web and show a white, Western bias. Without such fine-tuning, AI image generators show biases by predominantly generating images of white people when asked to depict doctors or lawyers, or disproportionately showing Black people when asked to create images of criminals. It seems that Google ended up overcompensating, or didn’t properly test the consequences of the adjustments it made to correct for bias.

Why did that happen? Perhaps simply because Google rushed Gemini. The company is clearly struggling to find the right cadence for releasing AI. It once took a more cautious approach with its AI technology, deciding not to release a powerful chatbot due to ethical concerns. After OpenAI’s ChatGPT took the world by storm, Google shifted into a different gear. In its haste, quality control appears to have suffered.

“Gemini's behavior seems like an abject product failure,” says Arvind Narayanan, a professor at Princeton University and coauthor of a book on fairness in machine learning. “These are the same kinds of issues we've been seeing for years. It boggles the mind that they released an image generator without apparently ever trying to generate an image of a historical person.”

Chatbots like Gemini and ChatGPT are fine-tuned through a process that involves having humans test a model and provide feedback, either according to instructions they were given or using their own judgment. Paul Christiano, an AI researcher who previously worked on aligning language models at OpenAI, says Gemini’s controversial responses may reflect that Google sought to train its model quickly and didn’t perform enough checks on its behavior. But he adds that trying to align AI models inevitably involves judgment calls that not everyone will agree with. The hypothetical questions being used to try to catch out Gemini generally force the chatbot into territory where it’s tricky to satisfy everyone. “It is absolutely the case that any question that uses phrases like ‘more important’ or ‘better’ is going to be debatable,’ he says.

Christiano predicts that the way AI models are tuned will most likely become more controversial and important as these models improve and are given more power. “They'll be better at learning what we teach them and will make more important decisions,” he says. “I think it will be a very socially important issue.”

Deborah Raji, a Mozilla Fellow who studies algorithmic bias and accountability, says that efforts to fix bias in AI systems have tended to be Band-Aids rather than deep systemic solutions. Google previously fixed an image classifier that labeled some Black faces as gorillas by making it blind to many nonhuman primates altogether.

But although Raji believes Google screwed up with Gemini, she says that some people are highlighting the chatbot’s errors in an attempt to politicize the issue of AI bias. “It is actually a bipartisan tech issue,” she says. “I’m discouraged and disappointed by the way these political influencers are attempting to manipulate that discourse on social media.”

Margaret Mitchell, a AI ethics researcher at Hugging Face who previously worked at Google, posted a thread explaining how Google might have avoided the Gemini controversy. (In short, by being more thorough in thinking through how the system would be used.) Mitchell also says that the tech industry’s vision of building superhuman AI models able to please everyone has invited the current discord. “The AGI agenda has sort of set itself up for exactly this kind of culture war,” she says.

[llawlieta]

11, 16!

Hii, thank you!! <3

11. if you’re a writer or artist, what fic or piece of art are you proud of making?

Oh my god, a bit difficult because I'm not that proud of any of my fics now that some time has passed akjskds. Or rather, I'm not that proud of their quality but I'm still very proud of the work I put into them!! Because I had to fight demons to finish every one of those fics. And I will never stop being proud of myself for finishing any sort of piece at all.

I think I'm quite proud of all of them in that sense, except for "Stay with me, hold my hand", which I wrote in a rush and is like my least favourite child but I also don't really want to abandon it in a cardboard box (orphan it). But probably my actual favourite one is Only in my dreams which I wrote for a Secret Santa and it was excruciating and I was convinced I wouldn't make the deadline and I edited it a thousand times but I was over the moon to finish it and to have the person it was for like it <3333 And I think it's good! but I also haven't reread it in a while.....

And I'm very proud of a fic I'm writing right now!! I hope I'll post it someday!

16. a tiny detail in canon that you want more people to appreciate

I think a lot of tiny comedy moments in the manga go underappreciated! The manga is so funny and everyone should read it. I also always want more people to appreciate Sayu, if she counts as a detail (SHE'S NOT A DETAIL TO ME), and the Yagami family in general... Both because of their fun light moments and also because they're insane. The latest Yagami family Detail I have come across in my reread, and therefore the only thing I can think of, is the fact that Sayu apologizes for having been careless enough to get kidnapped (everybody think a moment about how these two kids were raised. Is anybody listening to me), and Soichiro then announces that he is going to quit his job because he is a failure as a police officer for having rescued his kidnapped daughter Right In Front of said kidnapped daughter. I guess this isn't really that underappreciated because I've seen multiple people comment on it but......

Also the conversation Soichiro and Sachiko have shortly after Sayu's kidnapping:

Wow. This family loves each other and is insane. Anyway, yeah!! Thank you for the ask!!

from this ask game

[bayothemayo]

🎃Whumptober Day 1: Panic 🎃 (Persona 3)

Note: I wrote this around two years ago. I finally remembered it and decide to post it as it is. Sorry if the quality isn't good. Spoilers: First boss Trigger Warning: Panic Attack

Defeating the boss wasn’t easy, but they were able to kill it without any major injuries. Thank goodness for Yukari to have healing magic skills. . It was a first for Minato Arisato for fighting something that isn’t small, or looks like a table. His two other teammates were of help, but a certain someone, Junpei, went ahead to show off, leaving Minato and Yukari to rush through battles and have to run after him. His body feels sore. That doesn’t change anything that is currently happening.

         “The train is not stopping!” Someone yelled, just enough to hear them over the screeching from the rails. They are close to hitting the other train.

         Yukari yelled at the top of her voice, “We have to use the brakes!” Minato runs to the front, his heart beating faster than his fights with shadows. Adrenaline filled his body as he looked at the several buttons. He doesn’t know anything about trains, let alone what each button does! He can see images flash in his mind and he quickly presses a random button. The train screeched to a halt, the terrible sound was a sign of relief to his ears. That didn’t stop him feeling pain in his chest as he stared ahead, coming closer to the sitting train. The train screeched slowly,eventually the train stopped. The trains are close together, that was a close one. Minato stepped back, let his back hit the wall, and slightly slumped. He tries to slow down his breathing, but it doesn’t work. He was feeling tired but restless at the same time.

         “It…” Yukari spoke, sounding shocked.

“...Stopped?” Junpei finishes her sentence.

         “Are you guys alright?! Can you hear me!” Mitsuru’s voice is filled with concern.

         Yukari responds, “Y-Yes we’re okay.?”

         Minato stands up straight and sighs. A sigh of relief? Maybe. He walks towards the door and places his hand on the frame.

Yukari yells out, “Minato?!”

         Junpei looks at Minato, puzzled, “I didn’t know that you know the train controls.”

         Minato turns to Junpei, “I’m not,” he explains, “I just randomly press a button.” Silence filled the room, as they processed the small amount of information that was given. He was thankful that his calm demeanor is showing, and not that he is actually panicking.

         Junpei fell back and let his back hit the seats, “I don’t care anymore…”

         Mitsuru jumps in the conversation, she apologizes for her role as the external support and tells them that she doesn’t detect any shadows. The mission was completed. Yukari thanks Minato. While he responded, his eyes briefly glanced at Junpei. Junpei looks...mad? Annoyed? He was quiet and his eyes were looking at something else. Was he jealous? Minato shrugged it off, sorta. Junpei did run off on his own, and now this? He was certain was jealous of him. It would go away eventually, hopefully. The group gets off the train. When Minato landed on his feet, he felt his legs shake a little. Sore, tired, and yet still feeling restless. His heart is still pounding. The pain in his chest is still there, he can’t tell if it’s going away or not. He felt his back getting patted.

         “You know, all this fight is making me hungry! Why not get a bite while we’re out?” Junpei smiles as he looks at Minato. Minato responded by nodding his head and smiling.

         Yukari huffs, “Junpei! We are still in the beginning of the Dark Hour! And all we are able to eat is convenience store food!”

         Junpei turns to Yukari with a smug look, “I ordered food before the restaurant closes.”

         Junpei and Yukari continue to squabble, which leaves Minato to his thoughts. His eyes look away from them and sort of wonders. What were those flashing images that he saw while the train was coming face to face with the other train? They were flashing too fast to see a lot of detail. The only thing that we can point out in the image was fire. Fire. It makes sense. A train crashing into another train at full speed will cause a huge explosion. Although the fire that he saw in his head was less chaotic than it would be for a train. He looks back at Yukari and Junpei, their squabbling seems to go on different topics. Yukari is now scolding Junpei for running off. She is doing Mitsuru’s job now. He’s just happy that they are all alive. He is happy that the people in the train that are sleeping, due to the Dark Hour, are now safe.

         They are at the dorms that they are staying at now. He just wants to go to bed and think for a while. They ate some food that Junpei ordered ahead of time.  Ikutsuki congratulates them on saving the train. They all went back to their rooms, finally leaving Minato to his thoughts. He closes his eyes, trying to think of the image. It took him awhile, but the image finally came into his head. The image was...horrifying. The image has two car wrecks, fire...and blood. Minato immediately sat up, and started to breathe heavily. That’s why those images were flashing in his head when the train was speeding coming closer to the other train.

         “What’s wrong?” Minato turns to the boy who spoke to him. The boy always appears at night. Minato stares at him. He is too tired mentally and physically for anything else. The boy spoke up again, “Looks like you remember an event that changed your life.”

“Can you go?” Minato asks as he lays down and turns away from the boy.

“Aww, that’s not nice.” The boy sighs.

“Night.” Minato mutters.

The boy stares at Minato for a few seconds and smiles, “Goodnight.” Minato is truly different from the others.