#i meant to have this finished for his birthday but its a little late now... oh well it still works for halloween

[monarchamos]

"Good evening, O moonlit night, The stars sure are beautiful tonight!"

Did you know that Edogawa Ranpo from Bungo Stray Dogs invented October for himself?

[hyunnie04]

muse

hwang hyunjin x reader, fluff | m.list

wc: 2.1k

synopsis: you can't decide what to give hyunjin for his birthday. a/n: very self indulgent theme/fic!! i like to draw myself so i thought i'd write about it for his birthday :> i apologize for being a bit late, irl obligations have been kicking my ass lately i'm sorry my hyune but i hope you guys like it! T-T

march was a month full of new beginnings. the year was only starting, january and february flying by like a breeze. remnants of winter still clung in the air and on the branches of the trees, pillowing them with the softness of white snow. it was also getting warmer, the chill no longer having its harsh bite and welcoming the inevitable pinks and greens of spring to come. and for you, new beginnings also meant taking on projects that you never thought you would be able to do. 

hyunjin's birthday was only a few days away, just a little less than a week from now.

you've spent the entire afternoon in a panic after the realization, racking your brain for any ideas, thinking what you could possibly do for his present only to come up empty handed. buying a gift for him is certainly the easier option and there was absolutely nothing wrong with it, seeing as hyunjin was the type of person to appreciate whatever you give him, be it big or small, expensive or not. it was just the matter of wanting to surprise him with a gift that he most likely doesn’t already have.   

you sigh and rest your head on the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling in thought. your eyes silently wander towards the painting that hung on the wall of your tiny apartment.

it was painted by hyunjin himself, a bouquet of your favorite flowers that he had given you for your own birthday. you always loved staring at it, earning a place in your favorite corner of the room.

you often stare at it, delving into the intricacies of each brush stroke, how the colors come together in harmony, the symbolism and sentimentality behind it all, and just how much love was poured into making it. hyunjin truly had a talent in capturing the likeness and essence of his subjects, even the simplest ones.

it was almost tradition, how he makes his closest family and friends paintings when it was their birthday or when there was a special occasion. he used his oil paints that you've become familiar with, the dozens of tubes and pots of color messily strewn all across his little studio back at his dorm.

it was a such thoughtful gesture, painting that was. taking his time out of his day to make something out of nothing, showing that he truly cared about the person. whenever you would visit him on his days off, he was always immersed in his craft. adept fingers swiping over charcoal, hands dipping into paint, a sight you always love seeing. you still remember the photo you took secretly of him in his studio, blissfully painting the night away.

you drum your hands on the arm rest, returning to brainstorm for ideas, still in deep thought. and then it all suddenly clicked. 

you have always admired hyunjin and his work, so why not make him one in return? 

he was always giving others gorgeous pieces of art, he certainly deserved to have his own. you were no picasso and certainly no hyunjin, but the act of gift giving has always been your favorite way of showing your love.

you had a basic grasp of how the medium was used, having watched hyunjin more than enough times. the techniques he had taught you during one of your art sessions together might come in handy as well. the one and only problem was that it left you with such little time to finish it. oh well, it was better to start late than never.

the next day, you picked up and gathered the necessary materials from the art supply shop you knew hyunjin frequented, recognizing the different kinds of paints, sizes and types of canvases, and brushes that he likes to use. you laid them out on your living room floor upon arriving home, finally starting on your little project. 

the remainder of the days leading up to his birthday were spent awake during ungodly hours into the night, full of endless trials and errors, scrapped ideas and tons of caffeine. your living room became your makeshift studio, a tarp laid down the center to catch the unavoidable mess you surely would be making. learning a completely different and unfamiliar medium from what you were used to was difficult, but you were determined and your mind was set.

-

hyunjin was getting worried. it had been a few days since he last saw you, nonetheless heard anything. he understood that the two of you were quite busy people, not always finding the time to talk. but after five missed calls and maybe a dozen texts over the span of two days and no reply? he was ill at ease.

maybe he was overreacting, but he knew that you would've at least sent something to acknowledge his texts. he decided to ask his friends about your whereabouts, asking if anyone had contact with you, only earning head shakes in return.

"have you tried going to their place?" chan asks the ravenette, leaning his back on the dance practice room���s mirrored walls. hyunjin huffs, mouth forming into a slight pout, shaking his head no. practice was getting more challenging as the comeback and schedules started to pile up, his attendance becoming crucial.

"you can go later, we don't have anything scheduled for tomorrow." his hyung removes his cap, fluffing his curls underneath. hyunjin breathes out a sigh of relief, sending him a quick thank you.

the older of the two nods in understanding, reaching a hand out to hyunjin upon standing on his feet. back to practice they went.

it was the night before his birthday. getting stubborn paint off your brushes was the worst, is what you've learned these past several days of non-stop painting. even with the appropriate solvent, the paint can and is still clinging stubbornly onto its fibers; leaving you in the bathroom sink to scrub them tediously under soap and some warm water.

your hands start to ache with all the scrubbing, perhaps growing tired as well from the painting, but you'd like to think that the momentary pain was worth it. the composition of it was finally starting to come together. the work flow became easier once you figured out a concept and a theme you were happy with, inspiration and motivation coming in effortlessly now. it only needed some last few touches, you could only hope he would like it as much as you ended up liking it too.

after the brushes were cleaned to the best of your abilities, you pat them dry, leaving them on the counter for the time being.

"y/n? are you home?" your hands still at the sound of the front door opening. it was undeniably hyunjin's voice. 

you and hyunjin lived apart despite dating for quite a long while. it was a mutual agreement that it would be more convenient for the two of you to live separately, his job requiring him to live closer to his place of work. you gave him a spare key so he could come by whenever he liked, but you didn’t expect him at all to drop by today.

you originally thought nothing of it for a moment, even brushing it off. but then the panic started to set in. he would see it right away, the canvas sitting right in front of the living room with no cloth to cover it. if you go out now, you might have a chance of covering it up before he finds out.

rushing out of the bathroom after wiping your hands dry, you've quickly noticed how it had suddenly gone quiet. you peak around the corner, seeing him standing idly in the middle of your living room, still unaware of your presence.

it was too late. you see the familiar ebony locks greet you upon arriving. his mouth practically hanging open as he stares at the easel facing him, winter coat slung heavily on his left arm.

"surprise?" you flush upon seeing his head whip towards your figure, leaned against the arch of the doorway. it was also a little embarrassing, not having the time to clean up. 

"is...that me?" he says in quiet disbelief. you can’t quite decipher if his reaction was good or bad but you nod, coming up to stand beside him. he stares at the canvas once more, no doubt taking in the details of it. you start to feel a little anxious under his gaze, silently wondering if he likes it. 

"it's not done yet, that's why it looks a little rough." you pause, hesitation lacing your voice. he would eventually find out, having already seen it. “it was supposed to be your surprise birthday present.” is what you ended up saying, speech meek and low, barely audible. 

his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he turns his eyes back to you. a noticeable redness staining his cheeks.

“wow,” he breathes out, tilting his head closer to gaze on the finer details. hyunjin pauses for a moment before replying. “this is beautiful.” his voice light, feathery. his fingertips, slender and lithe, hovering above as if to trace it. relief washed over you hearing him say it, your nerves easing and cheeks warming in return.

“you think so?” you purse your lips before smiling gratefully at him, noting the masking tape still plastered on its borders and small parts of it still unblended but thank him earnestly nonetheless. 

“i figured since you always make people art on their birthday," you took to move to the couch, the ache in your body starting to take its toll. "i thought i'd give back and make you one too." 

hyunjin was, in short- moved. the portrait was of him sitting in his art studio, the sun falling and spilling on his form peaking through the windows. although his elegantly curved back was turned and it was impossible to see his face, it was unmistakable that it was him.

he was truly not expecting anything, he was just happy with the prospect of just being with you on his special day. the thoughtfulness, sentimentality, and affection that came with making gifts with him in mind, he didn’t think it was possible to love you more than he already did. his eyes are lost in yours, the contours of his handsome face highlighted by the dim lights of your living room.

“i know it's bad but-”

hyunjin doesn’t let you continue, pulling you into a sudden kiss, throwing his coat on the couch haphazardly. your immediate response was to wrap your hands around his neck, hands wandering up and towards his hair. you could feel his smile on his mouth as he kisses you, grabbing the nape of your neck to steady your form. the kiss is intoxicating, feeling the love upon his soft movements, his warmth contrasting the chill from outside.

when he parts from you, he’s giddy, and jumping around like the happiest ferret you’ve ever seen. the wisps of hair fall to his temple, framing his beautiful face. “thank you, darling.”

“even if it’s not done yet- i love it,” he presses another kiss to the side of your mouth. “so much.” you could only laugh in response, completely flustered and enamored by his reaction.

hyunjin pulls you towards his chest, both arms locking around your shoulders. you could smell the perfume he always likes to wear. “is this why you weren’t picking up your phone?”

“my phone?” you pat your pockets in search, only to find it missing. your mind must’ve slid away, not knowing at all where it was but you could search for it later. “oh, yeah. m’ sorry.” the apology is muffled by the fabric of his shirt. he hums, his worries fading. you thought he was going to let you go, but he retaliates by resuming to press more kisses into you.

“okay, okay! thank you. i’m glad you like it.” you untangle his long arms from your body in order to stand up while hyunjin watches you do so, curiosity in his eyes. you already miss the warmth he radiated. 

“but, technically-” you start by grabbing the easel and placing it near the wall and out of his view, grabbing the stray tubes of paint off the floor and putting them away in their basket. “it’s still not your birthday.”

his plump lips form into a pout as he continues to watch you clean up. “and i’m not quite done with it yet so you have to wait.” placing a quick ‘boop’ to his nose, you head to the bathroom to freshen up for bed.

hyunjin checks his wrist watch as he follows you suit, his white teeth poking out. his arms catch you once again, wrapping you from behind. "it's 12."

amused by his antics, you let out another laugh before turning around in his hold to face him again, pressing a kiss on his soft lips.”in that case, i’ill finish it as soon as possible and-”

"happy birthday, my dearest."

-

please reblog or leave a comment if you like my work! it motivates me to keep writing ♡ all works are written by hyunnie04, please do not repost on other sites.

[auraisereigh]

"Blades to celebrate"

chapter thirteen part I

Brennan Sorrengail x Riorson reader Blurb: It's stars birthday but she has other plans than to celebrate. wc: 4.7 ☆ SPOILERS FOR THE EMPYREAN SERIES. Not much honestly. Uses pronouns: she/her. i use Star as a nickname as y/n sounds weird, and i'm awful with names.

Masterlist ☆ Dragon guide ☆ Star's story ☆ Empyrean guide ☆ Support me

It’s still dark when I make my way out of my room. To my confusion, Xaden continues to sleep on the couch instead of his own bed. Last night, noticing his habits, I spent some time trying to make the couch more comfortable—extra blankets, some pillows, even the blanket Mom made for him. Though he hasn’t touched that one.

Thanks to the kitchen staff from the mess hall, our fridge is finally stocked with actual, edible food. I grab some bread and make myself a simple ham and cheese sandwich, eating quietly at the kitchen table as I go through an old book I found tucked under my bed two days ago. It’s one of the many books Viscount Tecarus gave my father, a collection meant to help identify the source of my magic, its nature, and its potential.

Going through it now feels like a joke. Nothing in here has helped. Well, unless you count the insane amounts of love spells.

Once I finish eating, I clean up quickly and make breakfast for Xaden. I place the plate on the coffee table next to where he’s sleeping. But as I turn to leave, his hand wraps around my arm.

What the—

"Happy birthday, little sister," his sleepy voice rumbles.

My heart stutters. Those are words I didn’t want to hear. I wasn’t going to celebrate. It didn’t feel right—not when the people I want most around me aren’t here and never will be again. The wound is still raw, still tender. Celebrating anything feels wrong.

I give Xaden a small, reluctant smile. "Thank you, but you don’t have to say it. I’m not celebrating," I say softly as his eyes flutter open. His brow quirks, a silent question I’ve seen countless times. He doesn’t need to ask aloud; his expressions do it for him.

"I’m fine, truly. I’m just not in the mood to celebrate. Besides, I already have plans for today—something I’ve wanted to do for a while. I think I’ll manage to enjoy myself," I assure him.

His eyes drift shut again as he mumbles something I can’t make out. Good. He needs the rest.

I throw on one of Dad’s old shirts before heading to the forge. It’s been a long time since I’ve been here—too long. The last time was when Garrick’s father taught me how to craft my own weapons. Now, I’m finally going to do it myself.

I made sketches ages ago, outlining everything: the design, the weight, the materials, even the runes I’d use. I wouldn’t be working alone; the forge’s smith offered to assist if needed.

As I step inside, I quickly braid my hair into a simple but traditional Tyrrish braid. Last night, in my rush to meet Brennan, I’d brought my sketches here and left them on the worktable. I was already late then, so there hadn’t been time to linger.

The forger approaches with a polite smile. "Good morning, Princess," he says with a small bow.

"Good morning," I reply, matching his politeness.

"Do you know how to make weapons?" he asks, a valid question.

"I’ve seen it done," I answer, keeping my tone light. "I have sketches of what I want, but there are a few adjustments I’ll make to the design."

He nods, studying the papers I hand him. "From what I remember, your father once requested swords for you—thin, light, and easy to wield. I assume you’d prefer a similar weight now?"

I nod again, though the mention of those swords stings. I still have them, but using them feels like bringing up ghosts. Memories of training with Garrick’s father or my own threaten to overwhelm me.

"I’ll get you a triangle-tip mold for the blade," the smith says, pulling one from the shelf. "I remember you asked if molten alloy could be added to the blade. It’s possible. Both the steel and alloy are ready to pour."

He sets the mold next to the molten liquids, then continues, "After you pour the mixture, you can work on the handle. By the time that’s done, the steel should have hardened."

I glance at the glowing cauldrons of molten metal, nerves tingling. Logically, nothing should go wrong, but doubt lingers, the kind that creeps in when trying something for the first time.

"I have conduits with runes that respond to my magic," I explain hesitantly. "Would it be possible to insert them into the blade? That way, I wouldn’t need to touch an enemy directly to cause internal damage."

He pauses, studying me. Not many people outside Riorson House know about my magic.

"If the conduits respond to you, it’s possible," he says at last. "My advice? Pour a thin layer of the alloy into the mold first and let it cool slightly. Then, place the conduits carefully—balance is crucial. A single misstep, and the blade could be completely off-kilter. Once the conduits are set, pour the rest of the mixture on top and let it dry."

Relief washes over me. I nod in understanding and get to work.

I pull out a second mold to craft twin swords, placing them side by side on the worktable. After slipping on a pair of gloves, I grip the large ladle and pour a precise, even layer of molten alloy into each mold. Once the initial layer hardens slightly, I carefully place the conduits, ensuring they’re perfectly balanced. With that done, I pour the remaining alloy over them, filling the molds to the edge.

While the blades cool, I turn my attention to the handles. I’ve chosen a sleek black design with a red swirl that will spiral up to the base of the blade. Each handle will also feature a red stone that lights up in response to my magic.

By the time the stones are secured in place, the blades have hardened. I remove them from the molds with care, admiring the way the metal glints in the light. Sharpening and shaping them is the next step, and I lose myself in the steady rhythm of the work.

That’s when I feel it—a presence behind me.

At first, I think it’s the smith and ignore it, focused on the blade in my hand. But the presence lingers, unmoving. Setting the sword down, I remove my safety glasses and let them hang around my neck as I turn.

It’s not the armorer.

It’s Brennan.

☆

Taglist: @honethatty12 @smashee0789 @awkardnerd @randomperson1234sblog@bangtanxberm@hyperactive-bookworm-0@littowl@thebreadisthetruevillian

[lewkwoodnco]

june gloom - anthony lockwood x reader

“Look,” he bites out, “if you don’t want me here, say the word and I’ll leave.”

“No.” She looks positively alarmed and places a hand on his elbow. “Please. Don’t go. I like having you here.” Her lips twitch like she’s holding back a smile, but the dead look in her eyes only makes Lockwood even more uneasy. “I like seeing you like this. Thinner. Paler. I like watching you watch me.” She tips her head, considering him. “I like watching you look at me like you can never get your fill of me.”

june gloom, tule fog, I might as well say meet me in Montauk

a/n - help I can’t rmb how I used to format these I hope this is (mostly) correct 😭😭 uni is rlly steamrolling me frfr like I have so many WIPs which I planned to finish up first but inspiration struck for this one instead, for some reason?? And I imagine this to pick up where we left off from chapter 3 (the ntwdt fic) so this would be Ch 3.5 but could also be read as a stand alone I think? anyways enjoy a very autumn coded gloomy kind of angsty fic hehe (also do NOT smoke i am not promoting smoking ❌❌)

tropes/warnings - angst, estranged friends, veryyy very mild allusions to cheating (arguably. personally i didn’t write it that way but i guess I could see some ppl interpreting it that way)

word count - 1.6k!

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 3.5 | Ch 3.75 | Ch 4 | Ch 5

Finding an apartment to rent in central London was a bleak affair any time of the year, but something about late October seemed to make it even worse. While she looked for a place of her own, her parents had very kindly agreed to put her up for a couple of days. It was at their kitchen table that she had been pouring over apartment listings one barren, gloomy morning, when she peered out to see a familiar car pulled up outside.

Lockwood didn’t know what he was doing. He had just pulled up to her house five minutes ago, of which he spent four of them sitting in silence with the engine turned off. He dragged his palms across his jeans. He isn’t sure how he ended up here, or why. Lockwood & Co. had been handed the privilege of one miraculously empty weekend without any cases. Its employees had decided to indulge themselves, be it through a long bubble bath or a little tinkering on some model train set. A certain special someone’s birthday was coming up. If Lockwood had half the sense he ought to, he’d be spending the weekend with her. Instead, he got in his car and started driving aimlessly, meandering through slick roads that took him to the outskirts of the city.

Maybe it had been some subconscious desire to see her again that led him here. He hadn’t stopped thinking about their brief crossing of paths from a week ago. He had spent months convincing himself that he thought of her less and less as the days went by, enough to delude himself into thinking there was nothing to regret. After all, how could a guy hung up on an old friend find love like he did? But all it took was one glimpse of her again, and it was like they had spent no time apart at all. It was like he was still the sulky, stubborn boy from that last night months ago, smarting from the words unsaid and the pain in his shin. Sleepless and sick with the want to hear her slip back in, for them to make up by the morning, for them to act like it never happened.

He could pretend to have moved on all he wanted, but the sorrow buried deep into his chest and never quite left. He could feel it now, sitting motionless in his car under a dull, overcast sky.

He should’ve asked her to stay.

He jumps when he hears a tapping on the passenger window. The kind, weathered face of Mrs. L/N peers through, clad in gardening gloves and a wide-brim hat. Lockwood instantly becomes aware of how intrusive his visit must be. He hurriedly unbuckles his seat belt and steps out.

“I’m really sorry Mrs. L/N, I meant to call ahead -“

But she was already waving away his effusively apologetic words. She turns towards the house. “Oh, Y/N, it’s been ages since you’ve seen each other. Wouldn’t it be nice for you to catch up?”

He looks over her shoulder and follows her gaze to the house. There, he sees the hazy image of Y/N standing a few steps down from the front door. The slight fog obscures her expression, but there’s something rigid in the way she has her arms wrapped around herself.

“What Mum said. We’d lo-ove to have you.”

She stretches the word out in an exaggerated London drawl. It almost feels like she’s mocking him. But she’s too far for him to get a close enough look at her face, and by the time he makes his way up the winding driveway, she’s disappeared inside.

It helps that Mrs. L/N joins them. Once she’s set out some tea and scones, she prattles on comfortingly like she doesn’t notice the tension weighing in the air. Save for the occasional nod or one-word answer, they stay mostly silent, occasionally sneaking glances at each other. A part of him likes that they’re in the same house again, with her sitting across from him, fiddling with her mug, laughing a little too loud in a not entirely unpleasant way. But he doesn’t recognise her sweater, and her hair’s different, and her pinched face matches her raw, bitten nails.

Occasionally, she makes some seemingly innocuous remark which sounds a little too much like a jab at Lockwood. He hesitates, like he isn’t sure what to say, but then her lips painfully stretch into what is a sardonic smile at best, and the conversation changes. Still, every few seconds his eyes flick back to her face, of which she takes no notice.

But there’s still only so much Mrs. L/N can fill the silence with, and she eventually excuses herself to return to her gardening. The two of them make it for a grand total of 30 seconds of painful silence before she stands up and murmurs something about stepping out for fresh air.

After a minute, Lockwood leaves the kitchen table himself and goes looking for her. He finds her smoking in the backyard, standing at the fence, staring blankly at the treeline a short distance away.

“It’s a filthy habit.” She pauses, dropping the cigarette from her lips, but refuses to turn around. He walks down to the fence. “I thought you got rid of it.”

“How’d you find me?” How’d you know where I’d be?

Lockwood shook his head slowly, eyes unfocused, staring vacantly at the sparse trees reaching for the blank sky. “I didn’t…I wasn’t looking for you.”

She gives him a curious look. If she finds him unconvincing, she doesn’t comment on it. She takes a long drag from her cigarette. The silence starts to become a little more bearable.

“How’s Luce?”

He gives a stiff sort of half-nod. “Alright. Still more violent than she ought to be.”

“George?”

“He’s good.”

“Head still in the books?”

He frowns. “It’s only been three months. He’s not a different person.”

She shrugs. He can’t stop staring at the grimy cigarette in her hand. Her fingers tremble ever so slightly, finally giving the impression that she wasn’t nearly half as calm as she was trying to seem. “He could’ve…taken up water polo, or something. I wouldn’t know.”

The resentment in her voice was apparent - this was definitely a dig at him. For the first time since she’s left, it crosses his mind that she’s left behind a family. Still, it wasn’t like he had kicked her out.

“You chose to leave.”

“You didn’t give me much reason to stay, either.”

“Because - “

“No.” Her subdued, nonchalant attitude dissolved now that he had gotten a rise out of her. “You don’t get to stand there and judge me for leaving when I was miserable and you did fuck all about it. You’ve been this…this fog in my head since June.“ Her clipped voice burns through the cool air harshly. “You have no right to come running back now that it’s finally starting to clear up.”

Lockwood wonders whether the cigarette might be easier to reason with. His gaze wanders over to his car rusting in their driveway. Coming here was a mistake.

“Look,” he bites out, “if you don’t want me here, say the word and I’ll leave.”

“No.” She looks positively alarmed and places a hand on his elbow. “Please. Don’t go. I like having you here.” Her lips twitch like she’s holding back a smile, but the dead look in her eyes only makes Lockwood even more uneasy. “I like seeing you like this. Thinner. Paler. I like watching you watch me.” She tips her head, considering him. “I like watching you look at me like you can never get your fill of me.”

Lockwood flinches, pulling himself out of her grasp as he reels back, suddenly overcome with a surge of revulsion. There’s something malicious, corrupted, unrecognisable about her. He scoffs as he turns back to the house.

“If she’s so amazing, why are you on this side of town?”

He pauses with his hand on the doorknob. Her voice cuts through the air, jagged and bitter. He turns and sees her grinding the cigarette with the heel of her shoe. She straightens and pushes her hair back with a steady, measured hand, a far cry from the klutz whose stumbling around and whispered shrieks guaranteed to drag a smile on Lockwood’s face. Even now, she doesn’t acknowledge how he hasn’t taken his eyes off of her for more than half a minute all day.

“Happy couples,” he starts, a little half-heartedly, “don’t need to be joined at the hip.”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t give me that.” She walks up to the house too, and when she pauses by him, he punches down the urge to step back.  

“What are you trying to find out?”

She looks at him dismissively, like she already knows the answer and finds it unimpressive. Then she’s disappeared back into the house, the cold is stinging his face, and his heart’s thumping hard enough to break free of his chest.

He exhales shakily and feels his heart shutter itself away from the rest of the world. He still doesn’t know what he came looking for, but maybe it was to remember what he has clearly forgotten.

Always a problem. They’d always be a problem.

TAGLIST: @neewtmas @midnight--raine @ahead-fullofdreams @how-to-stuff-and-things @cielooci @mohinithoughts @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @elenianag080 @avdiobliss @houseoftwistedspirits @mischivana @dangelnleif @mitskiswift99

[sabraeal]

If the Mind Is Willing, Chapter 6

[Read on AO3]

Written for @claudeng80, who has been waiting longer than a month now for this birthday fic, and who has indeed beta'd this birthday fic as well, for we long ago passed the point where we pretend with each other that our final drafts are our first drafts. And though she cannot and will never see those first drafts because that is a layer of vulnerability on par with peeling off my skin to show off my bones, she can at least see my seconds drafts. Where she will then promptly tell me that I am missing a crucial word in a sentence, and maybe I should consider a comma or maybe a whole ass period, or possibly learn to spell words the way the god or at least the Oxford Dictionary intended. Because that is what friendship is all about 🤣

The problem is: it feels like too much.

The suitcase had been a given, of course; Chizuru only had the one, a gift from Father on her twelfth birthday, meant to be used on the single vacation he’d set aside time to take her on. Even after six years, the flower decals still looked like they’d been applied yesterday, pink a vibrant cherry blossom, only the dint on one corner to serve as proof it had ever been used. Disney World might have only lasted two days before a work emergency had them hopping the next flight back home, but at least the Orlando baggage carousel had left its mark. It’d been a happy reminder of better days when she’d been living out of it for those few weeks, unsure of where she would land— or whether she ever would.

It’s only— she hadn’t thought it would be full. Chizuru wouldn’t call herself a light packer by any means, but the event’s only three days, at a hotel that is possibly twenty minutes door-to-door, at least when school’s in session. It hardly seems like the sort of thing that calls for a suitcase filled to the brim. Above the brim even, if she were gutsy enough to take Kimigiku’s costume out of the garment bag— which she isn’t. It’d been heart-pounding enough putting Sen’s paper-wrapped kimono in there, let alone something with parts and pieces and things that could very easily scatter under her bed skirt and be lost for eternity.

Which brought her tally to one suitcase (over laden), one garment bag (to be treated with care), and the small travel pack she’d slung over her chest (overstuffed), gone over a half dozen times each, pared down to the barest bones, and still, still—

She can’t possibly take up this much space. Even in Shinpachi’s Range Rover, it’s too much. Maybe if she tried again, this time—?

3:15, her lock screen reads, a little snowflake sitting beside the 33°F below. Haah, with a four o’clock check in, there’s no chance of her whittling her luggage past the basics. Not unless she want to be late, and if she’s late, then—

Then everyone will be waiting for her. All of them clustered at the bottom of the stairs, watching the time tick down as she tries to decide if she really needs an extra pair of underwear or another package of hair ties. Just the thought threatens to have her break out in a full-body rash.

With a steeling breath, she adjusts her travel pack and rolls out to the hallway. A proposition that would be easier if not for the wall-to-wall carpets in the hall, but Chizuru manages to steer her suitcase competently enough, drawing up to the stairs with enough confidence to survive the six sets of eyes sure to turn her way—

Only to find two instead. Not waiting on her either— no, Yamazaki’s got his head bent close to Hajime, hands shaking with emphasis as he hisses, “I don’t care if he’s done hours before anyone else, I’m not getting in a car with him.”

“I was not insinuating that I would make you,” Hajime intones with weary patience. “I merely wanted to mention the likelihood of Souji being the first of our companions to finish with his preparations.”

“And I’m telling you that I’m not—”

It’s not on purpose; between fight or flight, Chizuru’s legs have chosen freeze, and she’s perfectly resigned to stand statue-still up here, silent and just out of sight. But her suitcase chooses to make it known to everyone in the major metropolitan area that one of its wheels is not perfectly situated on the landing. It tilts, the aggrieved wheel letting out a plaintive squeak— and that’s all it takes for Hajime’s eyes to narrow, slanting up to the top step.

“Good afternoon, Yukimura,” he says, oddly pointed. “It seems you are ready to head to the hotel.”

“Ah…” Her suitcase clunks down the next step with her, wheels spinning. “Yes. I just, um…”

Have to survive these stairs, she swallows down, gritting out a smile instead. She tries to lift her case and garment bag all together, but—

“Yukimura.” Long, well-clipped fingers wrap around the side handle, quite literally taking the weight out her hands. “Would it be alright if I handled this for you?”

“Oh.” Yamazaki’s not a tall man, not by any measure, but in the dim light of the stairway, he looms, and it— it flusters her, free hand fluttering uselessly between them. “I-I can’t possibly ask you to—”

“You’re not.” Hajime hovers at the bottom of the banister, a strange sort of lightness in his voice. If Chizuru didn’t know better she might call it…bubbly. “He is.”

“O-oh.” She stares down at the hand still clenched around a handle, willing each finger to release knuckle by knuckle, so slow it feels like someone else’s hand entirely. “Then…thank you, I guess.”

Yamazaki spares her a nod and a terse, “No problem,” right before he lifts her suitcase and—

And rams it right into the floral wallpaper.

“Nice,” Hajime hums, appreciative.

Yamazaki’s still flushed when he glares down, snapping, “I don’t see you helping.”

“And get between you and serving hime-sama?” Hajime’s not one to smirk— honestly, he’s not much on smiling either, save by millimeters— but a corner of his mouth trembles as Yamazaki tromps down the last few stairs, stormy as one of their winter squalls. “I would never.”

His jaw doesn’t so much open as fall, working, as if he needed a good running start to get his next words out. Chizuru simply slips around his side, asking brightly, “Have you been waiting long?”

“We were just discussing who we thought would be next in finishing their preparations,” Hajime tells her, not really answering her question. Experience tells her that means ‘a long time.’ “Although Shinpachi could fit the seven of us in his vehicle, we would more comfortably divide into three and four amongst two cars, and since I have a perfectly serviceable sedan”— Chizuru’s confusion must show her face, since one look at her has him hauling to a stop, coughing to clear his throat— “I mean to say, we were waiting for our third.”

“Oh.” She blinks, glancing between the two of them. “I guess that’s me?”

“So it seems.” There it is, that tremble at the corner of Hajime’s mouth, threatening to curl. For a moment, she’s certain it will, but he turns his head away, casting a speculative look down the hall. “Should we wait to take on another passenger, or—?”

“Better not risk it.” Hajime half-turns toward Yamazaki, disappointment palpable, and he adds, “Oh come on, Nagakura has the bigger car.”

“That doesn’t mean we should—”

Whatever Hajime means to say is lost in the tangle of boy and bag clattering down the stairs, the struggle so loud Chizuru’s ears still ring even after it’s over.

“Oh hey,” Heisuke says, cheerfully emerging from the tumble. “You guys haven’t left?”

Yamazaki blinks. “Not…yet…”

“We were just discussing if we should wait,” Hajime says. “Since Shinpachi’s vehicle might be preferable to the remaining passengers.”

“Nah, those guys are gonna take forever to get ready. Sano has a whole bag just for his freaking hair! And not only that, but him and Shinpachi have been fighting for the last ten minutes over who owns this styling gel or whatever, which like, who cares? But still” — Heisuke stops to catch his breath— “You got room for one more?”

Yamazaki and Hajime exchange looks. Just what exactly they’re saying, Chizuru can’t even begin to guess.

“Well,” Hajime hums, bemused. “That does handle one problem.”

“Fine.” Yamazaki sighs, hefting a bag over his shoulder. “Let’s just go already.”

*

Despite all her fretting, her suitcase fits easily into the back of Hajime’s Elantra, slotting into the last spot in the trunk with little more than a twist and a lift. It helps that all Heisuke has is a duffel, crammed into the corner with all the care of a dirty sock being returned to the hamper.

“Don’t you have costume parts in there?” Yamazaki manages around a grimace; one that only deepens at Heisuke’s shrug.

“It’s fine.” He gives the bag one last good shove, wedging it firmly against the side. “I just threw it together. And Sano says he’s gonna bring all the sticks or whatever—”

“They’re boffers,” Hajime interjects, “technically.”

“Yeah, that.” Heisuke claps him on the back. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. Hotels have those iron thingies, don’t they?”

Both eyebrows hitch up to Hajime’s hairline. “You know how to use an iron?”

Heisuke’s face crumples in confusion. “Well, no. But how hard can it be?”

Plenty is the answer, though Chizuru’s in no mind to give it, not when she’s preoccupied with trying to hang her garment bag on the hook over the window. Yamazaki and Hajime had made it look easy, but hers just keeps sitting wrong, taking up too much space and—

“You can take the front.”

She blinks up, half spilled out of the back seat, right up into Yamazaki’s concerned frown. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, if you wanted. It’s probably, er, nicer than having to share the back with—” his gazes darts over her head, to where Hajime patiently coaches Heisuke in the proper way to treat his personal items— “anyone.”

Her hands fly up, waving between them. “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly! I can’t have you sit back here with my bag in your way.”

“We have bags back there too,” he reminds her, leaving the ‘and we’re definitely making Heisuke deal with it’ unspoken. “It’s only fair for me to make the offer.”

“Ah, I suppose…” She runs her fingers down the seam of her garment bag, considering. “But really, I’ll be fine. I’m sure Hajime would prefer to have you as his copilot!”

His mouth furrows, the perfect counterpoint to the storm brewing on his brow. “Yukimura—”

“All done!” Heisuke bursts onto the bench seat beside her, quivering with the same energy as a dog wagging his tail. “We gonna get this show on the road soon?”

Yamazaki’s mouth pulls too thin for a sigh to slip through; instead it all rushes out of his nose, coming to an abrupt halt when he glances down at her. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to change seats?”

 “Hey! What’s up with this thing?” There’s not a lot of Heisuke, but what there is stretches across the seat, reaching out to give her garment bag one good tug. It’s like magic— one minute it’s shoving a shoulder across her seat, and the next it’s tucked into the handle, laying flat against where the door would be. “There, all set.”

He settles back, utterly nonchalant, as if he didn’t realize he’d done anything exceptional at all. Chizuru fails to stifle a laugh.

“Yes,” she says, giving Yamazaki one of her brightest smiles. “I think I'll get along just fine.”

*

“Woah? This is the place?” Heisuke jabs a finger toward the glass doors beneath the portico, duffel slung over his shoulder. “You sure?”

“Of course it is.” Yamazaki steps into the revolving door, suitcase clattering at his heels. “Haven’t you seen the campus hotel before?”

“Well, like, not up close,” he admits, following him through. “But this is nice. Like nice-nice. Are you sure they’re gonna give us discounts on a place this swanky?”

Chizuru has to admit, she’s thinking the same. From the outside, it didn’t seem like anything much— just another brutalist building squatting on campus, only with better parking access— but on the inside…

“Is this marble?” she murmurs faintly, nervously mincing across the floor. A hundred dollars for the weekend seemed like a steal when she’d thought it’d have the same level of amenities as a Holiday Inn Express. Now it’s practically highway robbery. “And the chandeliers…?”

“Satsuma Estates has been very kind to our organization since it started,” Saito informs them as he emerges from the door, his own suitcase coming to rest at his heels. “Most of their meeting spaces are influenced by traditional Japanese aesthetics, which meets our standards for a desirable location, and on their part, we are regular, respectful customers who—”

“We hold our biggest events during the part of the fiscal year where there isn’t much in the way of guests.” Yamazaki’s mouth slants, almost sly. “Spending New Year’s Eve on an empty campus in the middle of nowhere isn’t exactly on anyone’s bucket list.”

“So we get to have this place all to ourselves?” Heisuke eyes a vase that could have been just as at home in the Forbidden Palace as it was in a hotel lobby. “And they don’t have a problem with us running around in our costumes? I mean, with the swords and everything?”

“Boffers,” Hajime reminds him at the same time Yamazaki sighs, “They’re just foam.”

There’s a look that passes between them; a weary one, at least for Yamazaki’s part, though Hajime…well, Chizuru could hardly pretend to be an expert on the minute changes that marked a shift in his moods. But if she had to hazard a guess, she might say…amused.

“The more regular players typically bring foam or rubber replicas, with little intention to use them outside of aesthetic accuracy.” Hajime nods his chin toward a plastic pipe leaning against the front desk, both ends thickly padded and wrapped in what looked like duct tape. “New ones or the more…martially oriented roles usually elect to use boffers. Regardless, any weapon paraphernalia is inspected and registered at check-in.”

“They are also not allowed to be drawn outside the designated bounds of a scene,” Yamazaki adds, not a little stern as he surveys the crowd. “Personal combat sequences usually require advanced warning as well, since they have to prepare an area especially to accommodate—”

“Hold up. ‘Personal combat sequences?’”

“Duels,” Hajime clarifies.

Heisuke’s eyes pulse wide. “Duels? Really? We can have one of those?”

“As honor demands.”

“Woah.” There’s a new level of respect in Heisuke’s eyes as he scans the room. “And everyone follows the rules?”

“Yes,” Hajime says as Yamazaki grunts, “Mostly.”

Another look slings between them, though this time Chizuru doesn’t mistake the censure in Hajime’s stare.

“They say we’re better behaved than a regular convention,” Yamazaki allows, begrudgingly. “Or at least, we smell better.”

Heisuke blinks. “Smell better?”

He huffs out something in the neighborhood of a laugh. “You don’t want to know.”

“Should we get in line?” Chizuru eyes the crush creeping toward the front desk, barely contained by the black tape borders. “It seems like there’s already a bit of a wait to get through…”

“Jeez! That’s a lot of people!” Heisuke startles, like he’s only just noticed. “I thought this was supposed to be small?”

“Our usual group is around twenty to thirty members.” Hajime casts a speculative look over the lobby. “But for our weekend events, it can easily double.”

“Dude, this is definitely more than double—”

“Why don’t we check into the event first?” Yamazaki juts his chin toward the hall past the lobby, tightening his grip on his bags. “If everyone’s out here, then there can’t be much of a line there.”

Heisuke’s mouth clicks shut with a shrug. “Sounds like as good a plan as any.”

*

The event’s check-in is down the hall from the real one, just inside the first exhibit hall they come across— nearly empty, just like Yamazaki said, the number of people loitering around denser behind the tables than in front of them. For the two boys who are best known as the only ones in the roommate agreement who possess some sense of caution, there’s no hesitation, no moment for them to take in the currents of the room and pick the best course— both beeline straight for one of the tables, lining up with all the ease of habit. Chizuru follows after them, not on their heels, like Heisuke, but taking in the size of the room, in how there’s a few people clinging to the corners, their conversations hushed but curious as they pass.

There’s a mountain of a man in front of them, made larger for how the seams of his button down strain at the shoulders to contain his hunch, and she can’t shake the feeling that it’s familiar. Especially when he stands, unfurling head and shoulders taller than all of them and—

“Yamazaki.” The man doesn’t so much speak as rumble, like far away thunder, turning to them with a warm smile. “I see you did bring your friends after all.”

“M-Mr Shimada,” Chizuru gasps, heat flooding her cheeks. “I didn’t even—?”

Recognize you, she nearly says, but he’s wearing the same button down and slacks he does behind his desk, looking every inch like the professor he is. Or at least, will be, once he’s made the jump from adjunct.

Think you’d be here is more accurate, but the longer she considers the idea, the less improbable it seems. He’s a history professor after all— the kind that keeps replica swords mounted on his office wall, right above the pictures of his wife and kids. An active kendo instructor at the campus gym too, plus a dozen other martial arts she can only half remember the syllables of. She’d already seen him do demonstrations with live steel at the freshman orientation fair, dressed up in a kimono and hakama. And when she thinks about it like that, it’s honestly more surprising that he’s the only one from the department here.

A chill shivers up her spine. He’s the only member of the department she sees. That doesn’t mean he’s the only one in attendance. Her eyes skitter out over the hall, searching for stiff shoulders or the lingering scent of Marlboro—

“He’s brought quite a few friends this time.”

Chizuru startles, but it’s not an expletive that’s been dragged over gravel— no, it’s the reedy voice of the man behind the table, a wide smile pulled across a face as dainty and delicate as a doll’s. And yet when those large eyes fix on her— not the same shocking green of Souji’s, but something softer, mossier, more natural— there’s no innocence behind them, just the ceaseless churning of a great machine.

“Though I see not all of them have made it yet.” He rises, half out of his seat and hand outstretched. “I take it this is…?”

A narrow set of shoulders steps between them. “Heisuke!”

The man blinks, impossibly long eyelashes batting against porcelain pale cheeks, but his smile doesn’t lose any of its shine. “Ah, yes, of course, Heisuke. How nice that you’ve decided to join us. I’m Keisuke Ootori, one of the game masters.”

“Thanks for having me,” Heisuke says, so easy, and— and it would be nice to be like that, to be so confident of being welcome that pleasantries don’t turn oddly personal; that saying hello doesn’t come off as desperate. “It’s my first time doing this whole LARP thing!”

“You don’t say.” Keisuke’s mild gaze slants toward Yamazaki, mouth hitched at a corner. “Well, any friend of Hajime and Susumu’s is a friend of ours.”

“Su…Susu…?” Heisuke blinks, rolling his eyes to stare at Yamazaki. “…Mu..?”

“Don’t start.”

“Now, you were playing…?” A finger runs down the binder in front of him, stopping with a victorious tap. “Matsu Yoshitora, the beastmaster.”

“He’s lion clan!” Heisuke leans over the table, practically quivering without a tail to wag. “Because that’s my fursona.”

“Oh.” There it is again, that little wobble at the corner of his mouth, that dart of his eyes to where Yamazaki stands, hands clapped over his face. “Isn’t that nice.”

“I don’t know him,” Yamazaki says through his fingers, ears blazing bright red. “He just followed us in.”

“What Heisuke means,” Hajime interjects with beatific levels of patience, “it that the lion is his favorite animal. At least out of the options presented in the player’s guide.”

“Ah, I see.” Teeth peek through his smile when the game master turns back to Heisuke, fingers knitted over his binder. “You know, one of our other players has a whole functioning tengu suit. I think you might get along.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Yamazaki grumbles, but it’s too late, Heisuke’s already nodding his head, saying, “I have no idea what that is, but it sounds cool.”

“It sure is. Technically impressive too. Now, if you have weapons”—his hand sweeps out toward the table cozened up to his, and the girl behind it— “Marie can take care of their registration.”

“They’re not here yet,” Heisuke hurries to tell him— and as an afterthought, her. “They’re in the other car.”

“If you can describe it, we can get the process started.” The girl— Marie— smiles, but it doesn’t have the same warmth as Keisuke’s. It’s perfunctory, precise, and certainly satisfies Heisuke, since he slides right over and starts trying to gesture dimensions. But still, Chizuru can’t quite shake the feeling that there’s something cold beneath that polite smile, something pointed about the way her eyes avoid anything past the midline of the tables—

“Now, you”— Keisuke’s angles sharpen, teeth flashing behind his smile— “must be Hime-sama.”

Conversation careens to a halt, even the restless murmurs from the corners of the room pressed into silence.

“Ah…um…yes.” Chizuru shuffles a hesitant step closer. “Chizuru. I mean, I’m Chizuru”— he only smiles wider at her blush— “I’m playing Doji Kaoru.”

“Ah, a pleasure to meet you, Chizuru.” He presses a gallant hand to his chest, a sparkle lurking in the corners of his eyes. “And Kaoru. We’ve been waiting a long time to do something with Hime-sama…”

“O-oh! Really?” Her stomach knots itself before hurtling to her throat, bile sour on the back of her tongue. “I’m sorry— it must be so much trouble to— I can always play someone else if it’s going to ruin—”

“On the contrary, Chizuru! You saved us quite a bit of trouble. Especially poor Marie here.” He jerks a thumb toward where she sits, studiously ignoring their conversation. “But on that note— once we’ve wrapped up with check-in, I’d like to talk to the three of you.”

“U-us?” Every hair stands on end. “Are we in…in trouble?”

She could pass out just considering it. Her name’s barely gotten crossed off the list, and already she’s being called in to the principal’s office to explain herself. If only—

“No, no, not at all. In fact, the opposite”— he laughs as he leans in, lowering his voice to a stage whisper— “we’d like you to raise a little trouble.”

“O-oh.” She clasps her fingers to keep them from trembling. “Okay? I guess.”

“We’ll discuss it in a bit.” He settles back, tilting his chin toward the table next to him. “Now if you have any weapons to register, you can—”

“I don’t.”

His words grind to a halt. “You…don’t?”

“No.” She blinks, fingers clenching painfully tight. “Is that…bad?”

“No, no.” He shakes his head, the warmth still radiating from his smile— but there’s a sharpness to it too. An edge an unwary finger could cut itself on. “That’s perfect.”

*

“Hey, Shinpachi! Sano!” Heisuke bolts like a dog let off his leash as they round the corner to the lobby. There’s more than a few people that stand head-and-shoulders above this crowd, but no-one besides Harada shines bright apple red under the light, hair so glossy and soft Chizuru wonders just what he uses for conditioner. “Look! I got this cool bracelet.”

His wrist thrusts out right under their noses, fluorescent green so close their eyes nearly cross just trying to look, but Shinpachi just pushes it out to a visible distance and grins. “Sweet, bro! Where do I get myself one of these babies?”

“Around the corner.” Heisuke puffs out his chest, free hand hooking onto his hip. “There’s a girl handing them out. Look, Chizuru’s got one too, and—”

“Do they really think I’m going wear that?” Souji doesn’t so much arrive as appear, gone one moment and holding her wrist the next, like the neighborhood cat that only winds itself around her ankles when she’s throwing out old chicken bones. One finger slips beneath the pink band, tugging like he hopes it’ll give. “I’d rather cut my wrist off.”

“If you’re not having fun,” Yamazaki sniffs, “you can just go home.”

Souji’s sneer hones to a point. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, nerd.”

Yamazaki’s jaw works, breath so heavy Chizuru’s half worried it might steam, but before he can manage to marshal anything beyond ‘you—’ Hajime replied, “Yes, the bracelet is required. It marks us out as participants in the event, as well as informs security at a glance that any weapons on our person have been registered and approved by the game masters.”

“Wow, really?” Shinpachi blinks, prodding at Heisuke’s band. “Is there some sort of chip in there or something? RFID or whatever?”

“Er, no.” Yamazaki scratches at the back of his neck. “It’s just the color. Green means he’s only got one registered.”

“Blue is two,” Hajime offers, flashing his own wrist. “As I wear both tachi and tanto.”

“Oh!” Chizuru blinks down at her pink band. “What about mine?”

“You do not possess any weaponry,” he tells her, tone taking a surprised lilt. “Either visible or concealed.”

“What?” Yamazaki catches her wrist up in one hand, long fingers feather-light across her pulse, and he blinks at the band like he’s never seen a red paler than fire engine. “You didn’t bring anything?”

“I…” hadn’t known that would be an option. “Is that bad?”

“Ah, no.” His eyes meet hers, pulling wide before his fingers flinch, both hands and gaze skittering away from her. “Just…unorthodox, maybe.”

“I just thought…Kaoru is a courtier.” She shies beneath a shrug, cheeks flushed. “That means that she would put more weight on her words rather than, er…”

Hajime nods. “A good character choice, Yukimura. One that may also have complicated consequences, depending on the sort of story the game masters would like to tell.”

“Oh.” Her throat squeezes, the first prickle of tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry.” A hand falls gently onto her shoulder, fingers tightening in the barest squeeze when she dares to glance up. Yamazaki may not be one for smiles either, but there’s a faint one clinging to the corners of his mouth now, both amused and— and something else. Fond, maybe. “You’re with us, Yukimura. Experienced players live for complications.”

It’s warm where his hand presses to her, even through her coat, and her tongue tangles trying to find the right word, to find the compromise between thank you and I’m sorry, but—

But Souji saunters right up between them, flicking the band at Yamazaki’s wrist. “Hey, if all these colors are supposed to have some meaning or whatever, what’s with the lame ass purple?”

Yamazaki snatches his hand off her shoulder, cradling it against his chest. “What if you just—?”

“It means that he keeps up to the event maximum,” Hajime informs him mildly. “Concealed.”

Harada frowns, considering the band. “And just how many is that?”

“Five.”

“Woah!” Shinpachi takes a half step back, Heisuke quick to follow suit. “That, uh….that’s pretty impressive. Do a, uh…lot of people do that, or…?”

“No, it’s special dispensation,” Hajime clarifies casually. “Only a handful of players ever display the responsibility and mastery of play to earn the right.”

“No way!” Heisuke suddenly no longer shrinks from but stretches toward Yamazaki, an eager grin tugging at his lips. “Dude, are you like, really cool?”

Souji sniffs. “Only if hell has frozen over.”

For once, Yamazaki doesn’t rise to his bait, merely shaking his head. “No, no. It’s really not that big a deal—”

“Uh-huh.” Harada crosses his arms, one corner of his mouth curling toward a smirk. “And just how many people have a band like yours?”

He hesitates— too long, since Hajime is quick to offer, “Three.”

Yamazaki flushes under the sudden spurt of attention turned his way. “Saito would have one too, if he wanted it! It’s just— shinobi carry knives!”

“Lots of ‘em, apparently,” Shinpachi mutters, impressed.

"That's not--!"

“Ah, hey, Chizuru…” Harada turns to her with a sheepish look, rubbing at the back of his neck. “You know, the bunch of us already checked in here, so uh, why don’t you guys go on up?”

“M-me?” She blinks, on hand resting against her chest. “B-but…”

It’s habit to turn to Yamazaki, to leave space for him to air his own thoughts, his own opinions drawn from forethought and experience, but—

But he’s too busy stumbling under the hand Shinpachi claps to his back, looking like he’d like the carpet to swallow him whole.

“Ah!” Her fingers squeeze tight. “Um, yes. Sure. I’ll…get on that.”

*

The line’s smaller than it was when they first arrived; no longer a crush of people and garment bags and boffers, but a more subdued queue. It’s in no way quick— it moves along, but there’s time to idle between their forays forward, Heisuke pressing Hajime about clans and combat and conspiracies while Yamazaki surreptitiously checks his phone. Never for long, just a click on and off of the screen, like he’s waiting for something, and—

“Next, please.”

“Yukimura,” Hajime intones, utterly serious. “It is your turn.”

She jolts up from her suitcase, eyeing the open desk. “O-oh! Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you all from—?”

“Next customer, please!” another clerk calls from further down as the cluster of people in front of her walk away, polite smile already tacked in place. “Please approach the desk when you’re ready to check in!”

“That’s us,” Yamazaki says, skirting his suitcase wide as he steps around her. “We’ll wait for you when you’re done.”

“Don’t look at me,” Heisuke says, even as she does. “I’m just here for the company. Sano and Shinpachi already handled my room.”

“A-alright.” Hand wrapped tight around her suitcase handle, she rolls forward, knees barely trembling. “H-hello. I have a reservation?”

The receptionist smiles down at her. “Can I have your name?”

“Chizuru Yukimura?” She rises onto her toes, neck craned to watch the woman key her name into their computer, as if that might somehow help her find it. “I should have a single—?”

“Single…? Oh, hm.” The receptionist sits back in her hips, stymied. “I’m actually seeing one of our queen suites?”

A chill races down her spine. “Ah, no, but I— it definitely was supposed to be a single.”

At least it was when she booked it; it was the only thing she could afford, even with the discount. And even then—

“Oh! I see.” A couple clacks across the keyboard brightens the receptionist’s smile by a couple of watts. “It seems you’ve been given a free upgrade to one of our deluxe suites!”

Nothing good comes for free, Father’s voice blares in her ear, they only want to hide a cost you would hesitate pay. Her stomach twists, cold seeping up her throat. “F-free? I don’t have to, er, sign up for anything, or…?”

The receptionist relaxes with clear relief. Chizuru wishes she could do the same. “Yes, completely for free, at no extra charge!”

It’s impossible to swallow past the lump in her throat. “W-why? Did I do something…?”

“It doesn’t say on the reservation.” Her shoulders offer up a scant shrug under her blazer. “We must have run out of single rooms.”

“But…” It’s worse this way, she wants to say, the words clawing in her throat. Because I didn’t earn it. “I…”

“Yukimura.” Yamazaki steps up beside her, furrowed brows already aimed over the counter. “Is everything all right?”

“A-ah, yes!” Chizuru drops her heels, shuffling back from the counter. “It was just…something with the room…?”

“Ms Yukimura received a free upgrade to her reservation,” the receptionist replies cheerily. “Give me one moment, I’ll activate your key.”

“Free upgrade?” He blinks down at her. “Is there something wrong, or—?”

“No!” It’s ridiculous how much of a scene she’s making— anyone else would have just received it with a smile, happy to have gotten the extra mile out of their money, but here she is, half faint, making a mountain out of a molehill. “It’s fine, really.”

The corners of his mouth bite deeper into his cheeks, unconvinced. “Are you sure? One of us could always—?”

“Here you go, ma’am— 1204.” The receptionist hands over a small envelope, two keys nestled inside. With one glance at Yamazaki, her smile slants, angle all-too knowing. “Enjoy your stay. Next customer, please?”

He frowns, knuckles blanching where they grip his bag. “Yukimura—”

“It’s fine!” Her teeth grit down in a smile. “Really, it is. Let’s just get settled in.”

*

The elevator doors ding in distress as Harada wraps his whole hand around one side of them, refusing to let them slide shut. “Are you sure you don’t want one of us to come with you? It’s not that far out of the way.”

It’s four floors at least— her twelve to their eight— and with how the halls stretch across this landing, the lobby central to the rest of the rooms, it’s impossible to say how far of a hike. “No no, it’s fine. I can handle finding it myself.”

“We’re not worried about your sense of direction, Chizu.” Shinpachi crosses his arms over his chest, forbidding. “But what if someone gets weird with you while you’re wandering around up there?”

“Of course that’s your problem with all this,” Souji snorts, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Chizuru gets an upgrade and suddenly you’re all acting like there’s lions trying to split the lame gazelle from the herd. What’s the problem, think someone’s going to make eyes at her getting ice if she doesn’t have at least three of you to scare ‘em off?”

“This is serious,” Shinpachi spits. “There’s a lot of people in this place right now—”

“A serious waste of my time.” With a desultory wave of his fingers, Souji stalks off down the hall, calling over his shoulder, “Chizuru’s already said she’s fine. Call me when it’s time to eat.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Harada hums, his too-kind eyes looming over her. “If you don’t feel comfortable, it’s fine for one of us to—”

“No, I’m okay, really.” Chizuru lets her mouth pull wide, hoping her smile is more confident than she is. “You guys need to get your stuff settled. We can meet up later for dinner.”

Harada hesitates, struggling against another distressed ding. “I don’t know…”

“You have your phone, don’t you?” Yamazaki drags his glare from Souji’s back to where she stands, softening. “You’ll call if you need to?”

“Ah, yes!” It takes a moment to fish her phone from her bag, opening and closing zippers as Harada slowly, by inches, loses his struggle against the doors. “Right here!”

She waves it, lock screen bright in the car, and Harada loosens his grip. “As long as you’re sure…”

“I’m sure.” The words echo behind closed doors, her stomach rolling as the elevator lurches upward. She glances down at her screen, just in time to see it flash 20% at the corner before going black. “I think.”

*

It’s the toots that startle her as she creeps down the hall, suitcase wheels rattling across the close-textured carpet, the loudest noise she’s heard since the elevator doors closed behind her. Her grip tightens around her garment bag, weight shifting back on her heels, ready to turn tail and run, but—

But it’s her. The tooting, that is. Or rather, her phone. Embarrassing how long it takes her to think of it, really, but she does, slipping it right out of the pocket she’d tucked it into. 15% it reads now, but that’s not what draws her attention, not when there’s a notification with Sen’s smiling face beaming beside it. did you make it?

The breath rushes from her lungs, half-sigh, half-laugh. Two steps away. Thanks for asking.

It takes an improbable amount of minutes to manage those two-steps, however. Maybe Harada could have made it in one— or Shinpachi, even— baggage all happily come to heel, card in hand, but Chizuru has to trip over hers first, juggling garment bag and suitcase and half-unzipped travel pack until she realizes she can just put her phone away to free up that critical hand. Even still, there’s rustling and shuffling to trade one flat slip of plastic for another, the envelope half bobbling out of her hands before she manages to prise one of those little cards free.

And then, with a wave of her hand— well, a couple of waves, trying to figure out just how to place the card before she just presses it to the pad at the handle— she’s in. Except—

Except it’s not a bedroom. No, it’s a small living area, couch and TV and a half-wall of a kitchenette, a few chairs scattered around. Chizuru toes off her shoes, parking her suitcase neatly beside them, and peers into the next nearest door— bathroom, the glass enclosed shower tucked into one corner and a huge tub beside it, big enough to fit at least three of her inside without touching. She pads her way across, tiles cold even through her socks, and opens the other door, leading out into—

The bedroom, finally. The queen suite with what has to be the largest queen she’s ever seen.

Her fingers fumble her phone from its pocket, flicking past the lock screen straight to the camera—

Only for, anyone swallow their tongues yet?🤭 to flash right across the top of the screen.

There’s no costumes tonight, only a dinner! Tomorrow will be our first opportunity to be in character Though I don’t think anyone will be swallowing their tongues when I’m dressed as a boy 😅

Chizuru clicks back through to the camera, tapping the screen to focus, but—

“Are those leaves?” She blinks, first at the screen, and then, as she lowers it, the bed covers. Which, as she suspected, is littered with…some sort of nature. She steps close, pinching one velvety piece of detritus between her fingers and murmurs, “Petals?”

Well, she can’t have that.

boo have some confidence!!! you look super cute in that jinbei i bet *someone’s* heart will flutter at the very least

Her neck swivels, this way and that, trying to find someplace— anyplace— where it’s safe to put down her phone, hopefully close to hand, and— ah, there it is, the bedside table. She sets it down, turning back to the bed with a shake of her head. To think, in a hotel as nice as this one, they had just let someone track in half the outside with them.

It takes her a moment to find the trash can hidden beneath the table, but after that, it’s just a matter of goading all the plant stuff off the cover and into it. A bit more work than she thought she’d be putting into settling it, but it’s worth it to have a clean place to sit when Sen asks, is your room nice?

Very!!! I reserved a single, but it seems they had run out of them, so they gave me a free upgrade 😱 The room’s huge! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bed this big!

With a proud grin tugging at her lips, Chizuru takes a quick picture of her newly cleaned covers and sends it off.

omg LOOK at that 😱😱 a real princess bed for hime-sama

Ah, she hadn’t thought of that. Her heels hook around the bed frame, knees cradled up against her chest, and— and Yamazaki might find that funny too, wouldn’t he? Hime-sama having her own palatial accommodations. It’s nothing to flick open his thread and attach the picture, thumb hovering over send—

the only question is who is going to warm hime-sama’s bed 😏

Heat floods her cheeks. What do you mean?

i hear what happens in feudal japan stays in feudal japan you have any idea who you’d like to share with 😏😏😏

I thought princesses didn’t have to share beds

😩 you’re killing me

It’s not new, being teased like this— about this even, not when she lives in a house with six men and a solid half of them only begrudgingly allow themselves to be clothed. But Sen won’t be placated with a blush and stuttered denial— no, once she gets a whiff of romance, she doesn’t know how to give up until she’s got it clenched between her teeth. And unless she wants to pick out one of the guys as her, er, target, well…

It’s funny though! When I got here there was stuff all over the bed

Distraction is the only way out.

stuff?? like…fluids??? gross ��� pls tell me you called housekeeping

No, no fluids thankfully! Just some leaf stuff I handled it myself! It took me a while, but I finally got all those little petals off 💪

leaf stuff? petals??

A knock startles her, enough that she finally sees 8% hovering in the corner, her screen flicking over into power saver mode.

“One minute!” she calls out, rummaging through her bag until her fingers catch on the charger cord, tugging it out—

And half of her travel bag. The knock comes again, no more insistent, but Chizuru’s sure it sounds impatient.

“Ah, just another minute, I just have to”— miss the outlet at least twice before she gets it seated— “do this—”

Her screen lights up, the charging icon taking the place of the percentage, and it immediately toots with, where are you staying again?

She has just enough time to dash off, Satsuma Estates, before the knock comes again, and she yelps, “Coming!”

She hurries over, nearly tripping on the corner of her suitcase, but she gets the door open.

“Good evening, Chizuru,” Hajime says, once she does. “It’s time for dinner.”

[astraymetronome]

Ahhh if youre still doing requests/discussion of ideas lol, then i would be INDEBTED to you if you could write some platonic bakudeku vore with pred Bakugou? I think hed be SUCH an interesting pred specifically to Izuku cause he’d be protecting someone who he has such a complicated relationship with u know? Probably would be a lot of mixed feelings there

If not either way i just wanna say its really cool to see someone with the same hyperfixations as me! Mcyt /and/ Mha fans are RARE 😵‍💫 And also happy late birthday!!🎉🎉

Hey! Sorry this took so long to get out, like this ask is months old lol, I've been trying to think of an idea for this but something cute and simple seems like the best goal.

Anyways- here's a little fix of your platonic bkdk vore~

Izuku was pretty used to getting caught up in his projects. He wasn't a support course student but Mei helped him realize that he actually really enjoyed tinkering and working with his hands. It was fun to take some circuits and solder, combining with code and other forms of metal components to create his ideas when he couldn't get them into words.

His latest project has been consuming all of his time as of late since he can't manage to figure out what's causing the code to break. The teen was tempted to bother Mei and have her look over his work, but he also knew she'd be eager to take control over the idea and he didn't really want that. Midoriya was proud of his projects and he liked to make sure they worked on his own before sending them out to be considered by Power Loader as a part of his, or his muse's, costume.

As of right now, he was burrowed into a project for Uraraka. It was supposed to register the amount of oxygen surrounding the person attached to it. She's threatened to float people into the sun enough times that he actually considered it happening if she had a quirk accident or something similar.

The idea was if the level of oxygen lowered to a certain point, the mechanism would trigger a release of a quirk canceling substance. He wasn't sure if it should be a mist, an injection, or some kind of ointment but the idea was there. This would basically cancel out her zero gravity and drop them. Of course this was paired up with a parachute system and he'd gotten that to work fine, the problem was the oxygen.

He couldn't get it to recognize when the air quality was unsafe. He'd tried all sorts of different ways and he's gotten it to trigger once or twice but not reliably. He needed to trust it would trigger in a proper test so that Power Loader would attempt to make a better model, and he just can't figure it out.

Izuku had been toiling over this thing for weeks now! It was getting on his nerves, but he was so close. He knew he was close. He'd gotten the system to work the last three times before it disabled, so he was remaking it with the same settings and everything... The only thing was... He's been at this since this morning-

And it was currently 9 pm.

It wasn't that he meant to work on it all day! He had intended to go to the training grounds to spar with Iida, Todoroki, and Tsu, but.... He'd forgotten. The three had seemed to leave him to his trinkets, not having even knocked or called him as far as Midoriya was aware.

Still, he knew he needed a break... But he was really close to finishing up.

Izuku was so focused on his project, make that because his headphones were blaring in his ears, he hadn't heard the door creaking, instead flinching when a hand roughly landed on his left shoulder. The hero student pulled his headset to his neck, letting them sit on his shoulders as he pushed a button to pause the audio.

"Finally! I've been knocking for hours nerd!" Katsuki's voice was quick to take over the silence Izuku was exposed to. He blinked a bit, slightly startled but still out of it from how long he'd been zoned into his project.

"Oh- Sorry Kacchan," He started, "I've been working on-" only to be interrupted by one loud blonde.

"Idiot, you've not left your room all day! Every extra has been worried about you to the point they're up my ass!" Kacchan bitched out, causing a bit of blush to flood Izuku's cheeks.

He hadn't intended to worry anyone! He wanted to finish the test piece not ignore his friends. Midoriya knew he'd need to make it up to them, that probably meant a lot of apologizing and helping with a few chores or assignments but he'd do that either way. The teen ran a hand through his curls, snagging a few knots as he got to his feet.

A wave of exhaustion hit him within moments, feeling sore and stiff. He hated crunching like this and hated how his brain worked sometimes. If he hadn't hyper focused on this so bad, maybe he'd be asleep already or curled up watching a movie with his friends. Izuku steadied himself, humming a bit at the concerned look Kacchan gave him.

"I'm fine." He said quickly, only to be smacked at the back of his head. Izuku leaned forward and rubbed just above his neck as he gave a small glare.

"God, you're a dumbass." Katsuki mumbled before speaking up once more. "Get your ass downstairs. You're eating something and going to bed." The blonde said quickly, grabbing Izuku's arm. The shorter teen yelped as he was dragged downstairs.

-🐇~🐺-

Izuku felt pretty relaxed now that he'd filled his stomach and had about an hour to spend some time with his friends. He just needs to get upstairs, finish that project, and head to bed! That wouldn't take too much longer, probably one more hour or less with how close he was to finishing up. He'd excused himself from the movie and was currently walking down the hallway to his room.

As soon as he pushed the door open and went to grab his headphones, a hand grasped his wrist. Izuku felt himself groan, knowing who had done this. He turned, glaring slightly, as red eyes met green.

"Nope." Kacchan said so plainly and he knew, immediately, that there was no fighting the blonde.

"I'll sleep." He said quickly, moving to reach for his dresser only to instead have himself pushed onto his bed. The teen blinked a bit, slightly confused before Kacchan pulled a thin black bracelet out of his pocket.

Izuku recognized the thing, pausing as he gave a sigh, unable to stop the slight upturn of his lips.

"Really?"

"Fuck off." Kacchan said quickly.

The former starred expectingly until he held out his wrist. Midoriya watched as Katsuki slipped the band over his scared hand and it immediately tightened just below his palm.

The shorter teen pressed his thumb to the thin black screen, if glowing a slight blue before he took a deep breath. A tingling sensation shot through his body, starting at his arm and working out. He didn't find the shrinking process nice, not like some of his peers, it was similar to One For All but off enough he found it unsettling.

Within moments, his body closed in on itself, his size going from 155 centimeters to just above 10 (65 inches to 4). He felt dizzy, eyes kept closed in order to keep from growing more disoriented at the sudden difference.

Izuku let himself adjust, taking around 10 minutes or so before he let himself look up at the blonde in front of him. If Kacchan towered over him before, the teen absolutely shadowed him at his new size. It was a pretty common occurrence nowadays, everyone in class 1A had their own opinions on the... Shrinking bands. They'd been a cause of an attack and ended up being liked by a lot of them. So... They kept them.

Aizawa... Knew? Kinda. But they weren't harming anyone so, there wasn't much of a problem with their new habits. Izuku sighed as he watched Katsuki sit down, getting to his level now that he was small. He wasn't used to Kacchan not carrying a grin when they did this, but he was honestly too tired to care. He knew that this was being done because he'd probably resume programming the moment Kacchan left.

Izuku smiled as he stepped to the edge, hands scooping up behind him. He had expected the impatience, knowing that the power this gave the blonde was something he'd never be able to escape. Despite this, they were safe.

No matter how mad, or frustrated, they made each other. Izuku never hurts Katsuki when they do this, and Kacchan never hurts Deku. They both had this undeniable trust with the bands.

"Okay, I'm good!" Izuku called out, sitting on his palm as he lightly kicked his legs. As he was lifted up, brought to a familiar face, he simply smiled, staring at large lips.

Kacchan opened his mouth, the blonde's sharper teeth having originally been a nerve racking sight now only brought a sense of security. If someone wanted to hurt him, Izuku that is, they'd have to go past those in a way and he knew that wouldn't happen.

His eyes drifted over the sheen of saliva, grinning at the pink/red muscles and flesh that made up a mouth. He let warm, damp breath wash over his face, feeling like a sauna as he reached forward and placed a hand on the tip of his tongue. Izuku almost melted into the heat as he was nudged further, slipping into the mouth with ease.

His lower body stuck out, but that was normal, careful letting himself be covered in slime and saliva as the muscle shifted and carefully pinned him to the roof of Kacchan's mouth. The difference of the softer pallet compared to the more ridged section behind teeth was a little weird, he's never thought otherwise, but he knew that it was a normal thing.

Izuku swore he was lathered and sucked on for an hour, but he knew it was only a minute or two before Kacchan's esophagus opened up, a loud swallow forcing his upper body down into the tight chute of an throat. He kept his mouth and eyes closed, not wanting to get slime in either of them as he proceeded to quietly kick his legs as they were licked. He knew Kacchan enjoyed the movements so he tried despite his body feeling like lead.

A second swallow followed shortly, forcing Izuku to slip deeper and further before he hit a thicker ring of flesh, it opening immediately and dropping him into an mostly empty sack. He shifted his weight, getting comfortable as a hand rested on his back. Izuku sighed, leaning his head back as he felt a thumb carefully rub over where he laid.

Izuku didn't even feel Kacchan lay down before he was asleep.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Thanks for reading! The shrinking bands are based on the series of My Hero Vore Fics by LiamsLostAngel on Devantart!

I wrote all of this last night- please let me know if you find any spelling mistakes.

[bloomingforerza]

Not me also having Dimitri brainrot 👀

A request for my boy to TAKE A NAP and maybe we all also overwork ourselves too so he'll only rest if reader does and we fall asleep leaning against each other.

notes from booom: PLEASE he is taking over everything. i went shopping for my birthday outfit yesterday and purchased a ‘d’ initial anklet 😭 anyways, sorry this took me so long to put out. its my first time writing for fire emblem so i did my best 🥺 enjoy!

tags: none! just fluff ;)

Yesterday’s mission was super hard, it left everyone exhausted. All you wanted to do was sleep, but the work of a professor is never finished. Speaking to your students, other professors, and even Rhea and Seteth take up a lot of time aside from teaching. Doing paperwork usually keeps you up late most nights, but you always try to take the time to rest after missions.

You weren’t always the only one that got caught up with paperwork. Late nights walking around the monastery, you always end up finding Dimitri with his lights on, doing paperwork of his own or studying to perfect his techniques. He always says it���s because he wants to do better, be better. You didn’t understand the full grasp of that until he told you how him and Felix fell out.

Sundays were nice rest days after missions, but today couldn’t be avoided. You had work to do around the monastery. Seteth asked you to ask around for information about someone he deemed suspicious, and that meant speaking to more people than you really wanted to.

Walking past the training grounds, you heard someone practicing in there. Walking in to try and find out information from whoever it was, you were surprised to see the man who’d taken your heart without knowing it. You knew he probably didn’t know anything, but what’s troubling is you can’t recall him sleeping last night. In fact, it doesn’t seem like he’s slept much recently at all.

He didn’t even hear the doors of the training grounds open, too busy focused on practicing his technique. “Dimitri.” You called out to him, only to get no response. You carefully walked up behind him, quickly ducking when his lance swung around him before he even knew you were there.

“Oh! (Y/n), what are you doing in here? I could have hurt you just now. Are you alright?” His confusion turned to concern when he made the realization that you almost got impaled by his lance.

“I’m perfectly fine. What I came to ask you, was have you slept?” You asked accusingly, knowing full well that he’d not rested since the mission.

“I’m fine.” He states. “You haven’t rested either, from what I can recall.” He turns around and goes back to training, to which you frown.

“Dima.” You’re firm this time. You place your hand on his shoulder, almost begging him to rest. “Please, please rest. You need to.”

“Only if you will.” He stops in his tracks, turning back to you. You were the only ones on the training grounds, so you went to the wall and sat in the shade, patting the spot next to you, not letting up.

Your plan of action would be to make him sit down, and hopefully take a nap. Once he fell asleep, you could get back to work. But once you sat down, your exhaustion seemed to hit you all at once.

As your prince sits beside you, you leaned your head on his shoulder. He smiled down at you, placing a soft kiss onto your forehead, before resting his on top of yours. Quite too soon after you leaned on each other, the feeling of sleep quickly overcame you both without realizing it.

Almost too soon, a few hours later, Sylvain and Felix opened the doors to the training grounds with the intention of training together, only to find the two of you sleeping together. “Should we wake them up? Dinner is in a few hours, they must have missed lunch time.” Felix asks, but Sylvain is already on the move.

“Wakey wakey love birds!” He yells a little too loud, and you groan out of sleep. The movement of your head woke Dimitri as well, and when you found the two of them standing in front of you, you turned your face into Dimitri’s shoulder with a blush.

“What time is it?” Dimitri groans, and Felix makes a sound of disapproval at him.

“Almost evening,” Sylvain smirks at you, and you can’t help but groan again in embarrassment. But you at least got Dimitri to sleep, even if it meant jeopardizing your duties as a professor. You grabbed his hand, standing up with him. He smiles at you, but doesn’t let go as you leave.

“What was that?” Felix is puzzled after you both leave.

“Two busy lovers taking a nap together.” He smiles. “Let’s get training.”

[livia-dovehallow]

happy birthday to gabriel lightwood!

I rise from the ashes of writer's block and health problems to gift you all a little something I whipped up late last night for our boy's 163rd birthday <3 You can find this piece on AO3, too.

Cecily extended her arms and held the box up to him, eyeing him expectantly over the edges. “It’s customary to accept a birthday gift on your birthday, you know.”

Gabriel gaped. “Why did you get me—“

“If you finish that question, I will drop you to the floor so fast, Gabriel Lightwood.”

It was a promise more than it was a threat, and Gabriel dropped his shoulders in defeat, reaching to accept the box she was holding out to him. His chest felt fuzzy in a way that only happened around Cecily and nobody else. “Thank you.”

“You haven’t opened it yet.”

“Oh, you wish me to open it right now?”

Cecily scrunched her face in a faux anger—though, to her credit, it did look concerningly close to her actual anger—and huffed. “You are insufferable.”

With a grin, Gabriel opened the box. He titled his head at the contents, of which a familiar item lay. “Is this my pocket watch?”

“It is.”

“You are returning my own pocket watch to me as a birthday gift?”

Cecily burst into laughter, doubling over, leaving Gabriel standing in stupefied amusement. Whatever she’d planned, she obviously thought herself highly as a comedian. At least a full minute passed before she rose again and composed herself. She reached in and pointed at an unfamiliar item attached to the chain of said pocket watch. “I am returning it to you with something new.”

Gabriel followed her finger and looked at the small, coin-like item hanging off the chain near the clasp of the watch. Upon closer inspection, it was a coin, but not one he’d ever seen before. This one looked as if it had been sanded down and re-engraved. He took the piece between his fingers and lifted it for a better look. Only when it was closer did he realize that the engraving was of letters—arranged in her name. 

“It’s a token,” Cecily explained. “Literally, yes, but it’s a sort of gift that mundanes give to loved ones. Old coins, out of circulation, sanded down and punched with new images and letters.”

Gabriel brushed his thumb over the engraving of her name, surrounding in a dotted pattern that followed the edges of the coin. Below her name was the image of a bird in flight. A heron. He looked back up at Cecily and smiled. “This is a love token?”

Cecily’s eyes grew comically large in surprise Gabriel rarely got out of her. “You know it?” she exclaimed in disbelief. 

“I know it,” said Gabriel smugly, before he could no longer hold in the laugh in his throat at her shock. “I do live in London. Some mundane things are familiar to me.”

Her eyes narrowed, as if she were inspecting him. Gabriel highly suspected she was. “Sophie told you,” she declared after a moment. 

Rats. Gabriel shook his head and lifted the watch out of the box in its entirety. “I will never tell you,” he teased, unwilling to surrender. But Gabriel admired the small attachment anyway, the fuzzy feeling in his chest growing the longer he looked at it. His understanding of the custom was scarce at best, but he did know one thing. “I thought I was meant to give you one of these.”

Cecily’s cheeks flushed a light pink, which made his heart flip. She really was unbelievably beautiful. “I despise gender roles,” she said simply.

It made him laugh again but he believed her. He’d never get quite used to how it felt to know someone so intimately, and have them know just as much about you. He didn’t even think he knew Gideon as well as he knew Cecily despite growing up with the man his entire life. 

He slipped the gift of his own adorned pocket watch into his vest and lay the now-empty box on the table beside them. “Thank you,” he told her. “I do like this addition to my own pocket watch.”

“You don’t think that is all I have for you on your birthday, is it?” Cecily gasped. Her hands rose to her hips in an indignant stance. “I take birthdays seriously. You may not have high expectations, sir, but now you have me.”

It was an innocent statement, but something about hearing her say “you have me” struck enough emotion out of Gabriel to compel him to step forward and lower himself to give her a sweet kiss. She smiled into it, her own curving lips moving in time with his. 

“What was that for?” she questioned when they’d reluctantly separated.

“I thought you might get annoyed with me if I just kept saying thank you.”

Her smile and eyes brightened into the precise glow that he always wanted her to have. A smile of genuine happiness. “I commend you on your solution,” she sang, and then took his arm. “It’s ingenious problem solving, though I do hope you do not use that solution with others.”

“It’s most certainly reserved for you,” Gabriel assured. 

Cecily tugged on his arm and began to walk, directing him to wherever it was she led him. Her energy was excited, radiating enough off of her to make him feel genuinely happy on his birthday for the first time in years, even if all he did that day was follow her around. 

[21 years later]

Gabriel woke up the same way he’d woken up for nearly 20 years—with Cecily’s pretty face beside him like a dream he was still in. Only this time, Cecily was wide awake and beaming at him rather than snoring (or acoustic sleeping, as she put it). “Happy birthday,” she said before leaning in for a smiling kiss.

“Mm,” Gabriel hummed. He sat up from his pillows, Cecily following, and attempted to blink himself more awake. “I age ten years every day in this house. What’s the use of a birthday anymore?”

Cecily remained unphased. Instead, she rolled out of bed and threw open the curtains with flair. “It’s your first birthday with Alex,” she reminded him. Gabriel attempted to act like he wasn’t aware that she hadn’t closed her robes. “And he’s six months old today, too. It is a very special day. At least it is to me.”

Gabriel softened, and smiled adoringly at his wife. She crossed her arms looking at him from across the room, but there was no true anger in her expression. She rather looked a bit sad. Cecily had never gotten used to how fast their children had grown, even Alex, who had come so recently into their family and yet here he was, six months old already. No fault to her—Gabriel grew sad if he thought about it too long, too. 

He threw the sheets off himself and dragged himself out of the bed to cross the room to her. There had to be a magnet within Cecily, for he always found himself wanting to be close to her all the time. She leaned into his touch when he held her face in his heads. Gabriel leaned down and kissed her head, humming as he did so. “I love you.”

Cecily wrapped her arms around his torso and squeezed herself against him. “I love you, too,” she mumbled into his shoulder at the precise moment a cry pierced the otherwise silent air of their home. Gabriel laughed. “I’m being summoned.”

“I can get him,” Gabriel offered right away when Cecily pulled away from their perfectly comfortable embrace. 

“Not on your birthday,” she scolded him. With practiced ease, she tied her robe and flew into her slippers. Halfway out of their bedroom door, Cecily peeked back at him over her shoulder with a stern gaze. “Don’t you dare think about anyone else on your day, Gabriel.”

She disappeared, off down the hall to the nursery, tending to their baby boy, the both of them knowing perfectly well that Gabriel Lightwood was incapable of thinking about anyone other than his family. 

He reached over to his vest, laid neatly over the wardrobe, prepared in advance for him, and pulled his pocket watch. It was early—Anna and Christopher would not wake for another couple of hours. Gabriel smiled to himself and watched out the window at the rising sun, an old token brushed by the pad of this thumb along the chain. 

[leejungchans]

impulsive : h.js

word count | 1.1 k

pairing | joshua hong (svt) x gender neutral reader

warning(s) / includes | food mentions, kissing (lmk if i missed anything!!)

genre | fluff, humour(ish), university au, established relationship au, joshua’s flirty in this idk what else to say <3

summary: in which you help your boyfriend with yet another one of his 2am impulse decisions.

a/n: happy birthday @joshuas i lob you berry berry much and so does joshua!! i said most of what i wanted to say to you on discord so i won’t ramble hehe <33 wishing you a very lovely day and i hope you like this ;-;

Finals week has truly driven everyone insane, your boyfriend far from exempted.

“Why that face?” Joshua whines upon seeing the appalled look you send his way. “This can’t be worse than what happened last week.”

You’d really rather if he didn’t bring up the past Monday when you came home to him and Seokmin slurping up ramen at the dining table after their study session. Perfectly innocuous, until your gaze lowers to quickly find their feet dunked into a tub of ice water.

They claimed it was so they could enjoy their ramen better, you claimed that side effects of studying Science Communication for five hours straight include insanity.

“It’s 2am, we’re both in a state of studying-induced delirium, and you want me to dye your hair? Now?”

“Yup!” Joshua chirps, much too hyper for someone at 2am. He slides off his chair and hurries into your bathroom, emerging seconds later holding a box. “I already bought the dye,” he says, nudging the box closer to you, “I just need some help to make sure it’s applied evenly!”

You glance between the box and the blonde hair sitting atop his head, a result of yet another impulse decision caused by cramming just a week ago. “You sure, Shua?” you ask, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth.

“I’m sure,” he reassures. “Plus—this is a time for experimentation! And it’s just hair!”

“Well, yes, but I meant you trust me to do it for you? What if I burn it off?”

Joshua hardly seems fazed, his head thrown back slightly as he lets out a hearty laugh. “You won’t, baby. It’ll be fine, though you’re not allowed to leave me if I end up bald.”

You snort at his lighthearted jest, choosing to scan the instructions printed on the box instead of meeting his eyes as you admit, “Don’t worry, I’ll still love you even if you’re an egg.”

“Even sunny-side up?”

“Don’t push it.”

“She’s staring at me.”

“Lovingly!”

“It’s creepy! Flip it over, please!”

“You’re the bossiest hairdresser ever,” Joshua jokes, but he does as you request anyways and turns his phone over so the screen faces up instead. “You’re so mean to her,” he pouts at you through the mirror. Her, as in the bunny splayed across his phone case. Admittedly, it can be cute on some days, but at 2am when you’re squished between Joshua and the wall of your bathroom with the flickering bulb—you make a mental reminder to buy a replacement one—its beady eyes seem to follow your every movement.

Either that, or the pungent stench of hair dye has already killed off a few of your brain cells and is making you see things. You definitely have a newfound sense of respect for hairdressers after today.

“I think we’re done,” you inform, giving his sectioned hair one last check to ensure the dye is even before helping him put on a flimsy shower cap, and you can’t help but think how it makes him look a little like one of those lunch ladies in the school cafeteria. “What now? The box said to wait half an hour.”

“We—” His stomach lets out an answering rumble before he can finish his thought, prompting you to stifle a giggle as he looks up at you with a sheepish smile. “Well, I guess now we know what we can do.”

Ten minutes later, you find yourselves huddled around the stove and slurping from a pot of steaming ramen, bowls out of the question because no one wants to do more dishes than necessary at such an ungodly hour.

“I can’t believe we’re eating ramen this late,” Joshua comments, his tongue peeking out from between his pink lips to catch the drop of broth threatening to dribble onto his chin. “My face is gonna be so swollen tomorrow morning!”

“What a tragedy that’d be.” Your reply is disinterested, partly because you can’t bring yourself to care all too much when you’re spending the next few days cooped up in your apartment anyways, and partly because you know your “hunk of a boyfriend” (his words, not yours) will still look better than ninety percent of the human population even with a puffy face.

Besides, you added two eggs in there for protein, so if you convince yourself hard enough you might just believe it’s healthy.

Being his personal hairdresser and now risking a puffy face—you suppose these are the things you do for Joshua Hong out of love.

“Will you be paying with cash or credit?”

Despite the halfhearted roll of the eyes you receive, the corners of Joshua’s lips curve gratefully. Gone is the blonde, now replaced by an ashy brown with just enough warmth to complement his pretty features perfectly. You’re surprised it turned out even, more surprised by how incredible he looks with the new colour.

“Very funny, baby.”

“I’m dead serious. Cash or credit?”

His gaze meets yours in the mirror, the corners of his lips curving up seductively. You know he’s being playful, at least for the most part, but the sight still has your heart taking flight and fluttering around in your rib cage. “What about I pay in kisses?”

Your smile mirrors his in mirth. “Mm… tempting, but no.”

You don’t miss the mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he gets up from the chair and brings a hand up to his hair, his smirk growing when he realises you’re enraptured by how the brown strands pass between his elegant fingers.

“What if I make it a really good kiss?” he murmurs, letting his soft lips graze the shell of your ear. The ticklish sensation has goosebumps rising on your skin in an instant, and an invisible fire burns a scorching path up your neck towards your cheeks.

A giggle bubbles up from your chest as he backs you against the cold tiles of the bathroom wall, his arms easily wrapping around you to pull you impossibly close. Warmth radiates from him when he leans in and rests his forehead on yours, eyes dripping with adoration and love boring into your own. “Well?”

“Just kiss me, Joshua,” you laugh.

And he does—eyes fluttering shut, finger crooking underneath your chin to tilt your head up, lips stretching into a sweet grin before he presses them to yours. He kisses you tenderly, softly, as though you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen in his life. Perhaps you are, just as how he is the most treasured presence in your life.

So you kiss Joshua back with just as much enthusiasm, and hope he feels the endless bounds of your love.

a/n: :hehecat: i hope this is shuawife approved <333 thank you for reading and if you liked this please consider leaving some feedback :’)) it helps me a lot as a writer 💗

[2am-cursed-fanfic]

Quack, Quack, Can Break Your Back

A TNT duo fanfic, a goose soulmate au, mafia au, everyone is dead except them au, SMUT. For basille: Happy Late Birthday 

Being paranoid was always his strong suit, maybe that’s why he survived so long in the mafia.

He loved his friends there, more like brothers at this point, the PG2020 was a good place to be when you had family with you.

Not that any of that mattered now,

The violence they rage at the SW2020 mafia, it started with a little misunderstanding. Just some land blocks 5 and 6 on seventh Street. Maybe there could’ve been a better way, a peaceful way, but when you are raised with guns and blood you believe them to be your friends.

No, Wilbur sees they truly were his only enemy.

He stood knowing that his family in the mafia was dead, it’s been two weeks, the cops look for anyone who is involved, but hiding in the shadows saved his very skin.

The funny part about it was, the place that was saving him was the abandoned building on the sixth block of seventh Street.

The sky is gray, it was all the Wilbur could think of all the other darkness that swirled in his mind for a moment felt calm. He didn’t want them to die in vain, but revenge was for someone who felt like going on for years.

A year was the longest time he could think of living before he lost himself to his own madness.

Then he heard it tapping at the window,

He looked out and saw no one, perhaps his paranoid mind had already lost.

But then again, it tapped once more.

He still saw nothing.

But every time he looked away the tapping began all over again, and again, and again, until finally-

He swung open the window

“OKAY WHO IS EVER OUT THERE THIS BETTER BE A THREAT BECAUSE I WILL COME TO CUT OUT YOUR TONGUE WHEN I FIND YOU”

Than

“Quack”

The fuck was that- Wilbur thought, but before he could finish his thought, IT flew in.

“Quack, Quack”

It was a fucking hell-

“You're just a goose, and I threaten that I would- I would-“ and for the first time in two weeks he was laughing.

He laughed and giggled. He must of sounded like a madman to the streets below but he didn’t care because something he couldn’t really explain was happening.

“I can’t- even-“ he laughed more,

The goose stood still understand his roars of laughter were over.

“We’ll I guess I have a pet goose now,”

He watched the goose ruffle it’s feathers,

“Now what should I call you-“ he said reaching for its head, but than

“OW BLOODY HELL!!”

It bite him,

“OUCH, OW, THE FUCK,”

At this point the goose looked downright furious, and to be completely honest Wilbur was downright terrified.

He started sprinting for the door, unlocking all 3 of his protective locks and an angry goose chased after him.

But the goose didn’t stop it’s hunt,

It chased him out the door, to the stairs, than down to the 3rd floor, and the 2nd, and also the 1st, all the way until he was out of the building entirely, running out of breath to the alley between the buildings.

And for the unluck of god, Wilbur found himself cornered,

By a goose,

In a alleyway,

Fearing for his life,

His family was laughing from beyond the grave and he could hear them.

And than,

“OW, THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME YOU DAMN BIRD-“

Another man with black hair, red glasses, and a cigarette burning at his lips, and in Wilbur’s opinion with pretty brown eyes at a glance, was also getting chased by another goose, to the same alley way, what are the chances.

“I SWEAR TO GOD I AM NOT ABOVE SHOOTING A BIRD, YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO I HAVE KILLED YOU LITTLE BI-“ And this other goose bite him, right on the nose.

The man stumbled back, not seeing Wilbur behind him also in the alleyway.

Wilbur, wanting to help a stranger in similar conditions, reached out to catch him.

And that was it, it felt like a sparkler was lit on the bottom of his tail bone straight to the top of his spine, like the world had freezed and heated both at the same time, he felt…hopeful for the first time in years.

Oh,

He knew what this meant, and judging by the way the stranger stiffed the same way he did, he was guessing he knew too.

They were soulmates.

Destined to love each other no matter what, to hold each other in the other’s arms sweeter than any embrace, to never let go like the fated Romeo and Juliet.

… and perhaps something that Wilbur needed the most at that moment, a companion.

Someone to keep his mind away from nightmares and kept his bed warm lying next to him, someone to love him through his worries and keep him safe, and Wilbur would return the favor he knew, ten times if they needed.

He loved them.

Who ever he was holding in his arms,

He knew that as simply as the sky is opposite of the earth.

He was going to love them until the day he died.

“Um..” the man in his arms mumbled,

“Oh, uh, sorry,” he tumbled, letting go of the man-his soulmate, and letting go of that contact felt like a torturous thing to do.

The other man straighten himself, and turned around without warning, with still a bleeding nose.

And brown eyes meant brown eyes,

And they realized the horror that they’ve seen each other before.

He was Quackity, part of his family’s warring mafia of SW2020.

A month ago they could have murdered each other.

A heat of anger rushed over him, the universe put him with his sworn enemy that helped kill his family…

But at the same time he had probably helped kill his…

The anger rushed away as quickly as it arrived, but the heat of the anger stayed, morphing into something else.

Quackity was part of the SW2020 mafia.

Wilbur was part of the PG2020 mafia.

But that didn’t matter now, because they were soulmates, destined to choose each other despite all obstacles, and because there was no one else left that they loved.

The war of the mafias is over, they both decided in that second.

“I’m sorry, I wanted to give you the world well I had it, my soulmate” Quackity says dropping to his knees,

There was a Silence,

“I’m afraid a I’m a simple man,” Wilbur says dropping to his soulmates level

“I don’t need the world,” he touches Quackity’s face gently like it was the most precious thing in the world,

“Maybe I just want someone to love me, is that too much to ask,” he says with a daring look the other in the eyes.

And all hell breaks looses, the moment they look into each other’s eyes, they can’t stop themselves if they tried.

Their lips meet, heated, they waste no time letting the other explore their mouths, getting tangled and untangled so quickly it could feed the fire raging in their souls.

And yet it wasn’t enough, nowhere near enough.

Quackity wasted no time after realizing this he pushed his soulmate to his building door, not stopping the kissing, as if he would ever want the other to stop anyways.

In the building his room was close but they both had been trying to combine so tightly waving fingers in hair and pulling the other towards them like they needed them to breathe.

Quackity’s broken nose was starting to turn their kiss metallic, but Wilbur couldn’t care for the life of him, all he knew was he didn’t want it to stop.

In Quackity’s humble room, a mattress and a lamp, they fall onto the bed naturally, Wilbur hitting his back against the mattress was a moment he would never forget.

Before he knew it he had his shirt off, so did Quackity, it was just too goddamn hot to have it on. Then the kisses stopped, Wilbur almost whined at the sudden lack of contact.

“Do you want more, my lovely?”

Quackity asked as he played with the button of Wilbur’s pants, smiling at the rise in the fabric that was holding up.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Wilbur begged, too desperately for Quackity’s contact to be proud.

“Okay than let’s make this the best thing you have ever felt,”

And with that Quackity tore off his pants, and then his underwear.

Leaving him bare to his soulmate, and damn, he didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world at that moment.

“Now turn over,” Quackity asked and Wilbur did graciously panting.

Then Quackity let his dick go inside Wilbur and Wilbur screamed, but it wasn’t near the end, Quackity started moving, and Wilbur couldn’t stop himself; he moaned so loud he didn’t care if the cops found them right now.

The best part was the more he moaned the more his soulmate was trying to pleasure him more, and more, and more, until

“AAAohah!”

The climax one they could both get off to for years.

They fell side by side, still tangled together.

They breathed, they breathed the same breath, and let the other’s warm feed their hunger.

That was the moment everything ended and everything started.

The war was over.

The SW2020 and PG2020 mafias were over and overtaken by a beautiful inseparable pairing.

They would take the world by storm, they wouldn’t be able to leave their mafia lives behind, but they couldn’t go back to being enemies, no, now they became something stronger together.

And they would be known as the TNT Mafia.

[enchantestuff]

promises - red bull Sebastian vettel

as I promised just complete fluff and no smut. our poor seb isn't appreciated enough so here is the four times Sebastian jokingly proposed to you and the one time he actually did 

NOT MY GIF

warnings; none really, fluff (btw this made me realise how TERRIBLE I am at writing fluff sorry <3 )

2.1k words, she's long

Sebastian was nervous about getting a new engineer, he so badly wanted to win a championship with Redbull and Christian had confided in him, telling him that this engineer and their new competitive car, would help him live out his dream of being a Formula One champion.

It was nearing the start of the new season and Sebastian had still yet to meet the person that he would be talking to under his most stressful moments and who he had to have full faith in while driving his car. He had begun to think that maybe he never would meet his new engineer when he received a call from Christian, telling him that they both would take place in a race for the Redbull youtube channel, where Sebastain and his new engineer would race against Mark and his, the twist being that the engineers would be the ones driving, not the drivers themselves. Sebastian agreed knowing that it would be a great way to remove any awkwardness between the two of you.

Only a few days later Sebastian was standing on a random racetrack, talking to Mark when he noticed Mark's engineer walking towards them with a beautiful young lady by his side, who Sebastian assumed was his very own engineer. “Hi! It's so nice to meet you Sebastian! My name's Y/N,” you cheerfully greeted him as you shook his hand.

A smile immediately appeared on Sebastian's face at your warm nature and he knew you two would get along just fine. “Please, call me Seb, '' he grinned as he brought a kiss to your knuckles, “now, are you ready to beat these idiots” he joked as he cocked his head towards your opponents.

“Oh, we are going to make a great pair, Seb” you joked as you accepted a helmet off Christian and climbed into the car, getting comfortable inside of the driver's seat.

“Are you a good driver?” Sebastian asked as he secured himself in the passenger's side of the car.

“I don't think I can call myself a good driver with a future Formula One champion sitting right next to me” you smiled as you drove the car to the start line. Sebastian smiled before he braced himself as the flag spun, indicating the start of the race. His head knocked against the headrest as you sped through the track, blocking Mark's engineer as he tried to overtake you and weaving through deadly corners with minimal braking.

It was when the car drifted across the finish line that Seb turned towards you with a wide grin plastered on his face, his heart was thumping hard in his chest with adrenaline. “Please marry me” he joked and you laughed as you high fived him, pleased with your small victory.

* * *

The atmosphere around the paddock was tense, the drivers championship standings were close. Sebastian could almost taste the victory, but he still had a lot of work to do. He had what he would consider a terrible qualifying and had spent the whole night before the race brainstorming ideas on how to improve his time, however nothing seemed to be working.

Everyone was stressed in the Redbull motorhome the following day, which was never something you liked to see, but you understood it as you too had a sleepless night. You pulled Seb to the side the minute you saw him and told him of the new strategy you dreamt up late last night. He was hesitant since it hadn’t been approved by anyone, but he was willing to take the risk if it meant he would win.

“Are you sure?” he had asked you, looking intently into your eyes.

You shook your head. “No not really, but I know you and I know you're the only driver that could make it work” you confided. You both stared at each other in silence for a few moments before Seb pulled you in for a hug, he gently stroked your back as he squeezed you into him. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and hugged him back with just as much force.

“I trust you” he whispered into your ear and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

“Good luck” you spoke as you gave him a final squeeze and pulled away. You bit your nails out of anticipation and shot Seb an encouraging grin as he climbed into his car.

The race went much better than expected and although Christian was furious that you didn't run the plan through him first, he was satisfied that Seb was currently P1 with a final lap to go. Your nerves were at an all time high throughout the race and you could feel the grin creeping onto your face as the end got closer and closer.

It was when Sebastian crossed the checkered flag that you let out a relieved laugh. “P1 Seb! P1! '' you grinned as you spoke to him through his earpiece.

“Ahhhh thank you, Y/N! Will you and your strategy marry me please?” he laughed

“Congratulations,” you smiled “I’ll see you up on the podium”

You practically ran to the podium with the rest of the team, grinning up at Sebastian as he lifted the trophy into the air and you could almost swear he was grinning right back at you. You clapped and hollered at him and a blush crept up your cheeks when you saw him mouth a “Thank you” in your direction.

* * *

It was inevitable that you and Seb would become close, but you two had a very different relationship compared to the other drivers and their engineers. While the other pairs spent their time going over the car's performance and new strategies, you spent yours pressed up against the wall of your office while Sebastian kissed you with as much force as he could muster. Your most heated and intimate moments were just after a race when he was full of energy and you were full of pride.

Behind closed doors you and Sebastian could almost be compared to lovers, but out in the public eye you two kept things strictly professional, which is why you were full of shock the night that Sebastain had won his title.

The whole Redbull garage and the majority of the drivers went out to celebrate Sebastian as well as an amazing season. You had congratulated him at the start of the night, you shared a quick kiss when you were sure nobody was looking and he had bought you a drink. You hadn't seen him since, however and spent the last few hours talking to random drivers and team principals.

You almost jumped out of your skin when you felt two hands land firmly on your waist. You turned your head to see a tipsy Sebastian Vettel smiling at you with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “And there's the main man himself,” you giggled as you turned around to face him.

“I missed you,” he blurted out as his hands travelled dangerously low for a public event.

“Did you?” you asked “you're the one that disappeared for an hour” you continued as you tapped his chest.

“Kimi wanted to take shots,” he grinned as one hand moved to cup your bum.

“Sebastian!” you scolded as you swatted his hand away.

“What? It's not like i've never done that before”

“Well yeah, but-but not in public’ you whispered as you looked around, wondering if anyone had noticed the exchange between the two of you.

“I want you,” Sebastian declared, suddenly looking much more sober as he stared into your eyes.

“Let's take this conversation outside” replied as you took a step away from him. Sebastian sighed as he took your hand and led you out the doors, he didn’t care who saw as you both walked by, he didn’t care about anything anymore, he was sick of hiding his feelings for you from everyone. He wanted people to know you were his, he wanted to hold your hand in the paddocks and kiss you for good luck before a race.

Sebastain could feel his heart hammering in his chest as you paced back and forth in front of him, your hands rubbing your arms for warmth. He took a step towards you and grabbed your face with his hands. “Look at me. I want to make us official” you opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off “No listen to me. I need to say this. i don't want to sneakily glance at you during meetings anymore. I want to marry you one day. God! I want to marry you, Y/N! Is that not obvious?”

“Ok” you spoke, a blush rose to your cheeks and you cheekily grinned at him.

‘What?” Sebastian stuttered

“Let's make it official”.

* * *

You and Sebastian had been publicly dating for a little over a year and you were beyond happy. It was currently his birthday and you woke up early to make him breakfast. You both had celebrated the night before and you had to admit you were still sore but you wanted his day to be as special as him.

Sebastian tossed and turned in his sleep, frowning as he felt the cold sheets next to him instead of your warm body. His eyes fluttered open as his eyebrows furrowed. A smile soon made its way onto his face as he smelt the heavenly scent of breakfast. He turned to stand up but immediately sat back down at the sound of your voice. “No! Dont get up!” you pleaded and he laughed at the sight of you struggling to hold the breakfast tray in your hands.

“You shouldn't have, liebe” he muttered as he helped you place the breakfast tray on the bed.

“Maybe” you shrugged as you sat down next to him, “but I wanted to, now go on! Try it!” you encouraged as you practically shoved the plate into his face.

“Okay, okay” he laughed as he defensively put his hands up. You watched him as he put a fork full of food into his mouth, his eyes involuntarily shut as a quiet moan left his mouth. “Mmm marry me” he said once he swallowed the food.

“Is it okay?” you asked nervously as you played with your hands, it was your first time cooking for him and although it was just breakfast, you still wanted to make a good impression.

Sebastians head flipped in your direction, a shocked look plastered on his face. “It's better than okay, darling. Thank you. I love it. I love you”

Your heart fluttered once you heard those three words come out of his mouth. You grinned so hard that your cheeks began to hurt. “Oh god, please say something” he pleaded and he began to think that he spoke those words too soon.

“I love you, Sebastian” you spoke as you wrapped your arms around him and straddled his hips, placing kisses all over his face before finally collecting your lips.

* * *

It was yours and Sebastains anniversary but you both had decided that you wouldn't do anything special, you were just going to get takeout and watch a movie.

You pulled into the house with the food in your hands. You unlocked the door and called out to your boyfriend, “Honey, I’m home!” you joked, locking the doors behind you kicking your shoes off. You placed the food on the table next to the door and turned around, the sight in front of you shocking you as you let out a loud gasp.

Sebastian was kneeling on the floor with a ring in his hand, rose petals littered around him. You couldn't focus on the gorgeous dinner he had laid out on the table or the sweet music playing on the radio, you could only look at his glossy eyes and nervous face.

“Y/N, darling, I love you. I think i've loved you since I first laid eyes on you on that racetrack.” he laughed and looked down at the floor before connecting his eyes with yours again,”You have been with me through my lowest lows and my highest highs and somehow still manage to look at me with a glimmer in your eyes. There's nothing I can’t do with you by my side. So i’m asking-no-i'm practically begging you to finally marry me, for real this time. Will you do me the honours and become my wife?”

You nodded at him with tears in your eyes as you took small steps towards him. “I want to hear you say it, liebe”

“Yes, Sebastian! Of course I’ll marry you”

[dorimena]

𝕷𝖆𝖈𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕮𝖆𝖐𝖊

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; bakugou katsuki

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 1.4k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; fem!reader, lingerie, sex toy (vibrating butt plug), implied edging, implied overstimulation, pegging, mommy kink, dacryphilia, dom!reader, sub!reader

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; garterbelt, dry orgasms, didn’t know lima bean respect day existed, if you haven't realized i refer to reader's dick as cock whether flesh or silicone, implied aftercare, aged up character, Bakugou is in his 20s

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; late gift for the birthday boy who i haven’t written anything about until now. It was supposed to come out as a small fic, but University kept getting in the way and I’ve fallen behind with some pendant writings. Guess this is my first headcanon thing. Not proofread!

April 20th could mean anything for a lot of people:

In the US, it’s National Pineapple Upside Down Cake Day.

Also in the US, it’s National Lima Bean Respect Day.

Internationally, for the weed lovers, it’s 420 Day.

But April 20th simply means it’s your boyfriend’s birthday.

Bakugou had been hinting about wanting a small surprise for a while, whether big or small

And by hinting, I mean downright telling you every breakfast, lunch and dinner spent possible throughout March that he wants something from you, but doesn’t want to know what

If you were Mina, you would’ve thrown a party at some lowkey club and hired one of the best DJs in the city, if not the country

If you were Kirishima, you would’ve taken him hiking to a new mountain someplace else in Japan + a weekend glamping getaway

If you were Sero, you would’ve gone to do something relaxing, maybe a spa? Aerial yoga? Definitely not to just see his ass in some yoga pants

If you were Kaminari-

Well, that’s actually an interesting thought… What would you have done if you were Kaminari?

Bakugou wearing a black, see-through thong, the most sensual looking lace garterbelt you could find in his size and a pretty black bow sitting on his ass is what you managed to come up with

Sure. At first he was ready to fight, but then he remembered who you were so obedient baby boy mode was activated without any more fuss. That, and his fucking fantasies.

He’s also been fantasizing for the past few weeks leading up to his birthday about how you’d probably ride him. Maybe fuck him? He doesn’t care, just wants to be babied and loved and fucked good until he passes out to wake up a week later.

Maybe not, he still has work to do

Another reason he put up with this is because, y’know, you tend to be nicer on special days so-

Bakugou wearing a garterbelt makes you feel so many levels of horny in a span of 30 seconds once you see it on him. It accentuates his already envious waist line even more. God, you can’t wait to see him bent over and ass up.

So you tell him gently to do so from where you’re sitting, and he does it so prettily.

Reminds you of a graceful cat, the way he turns around on the bed, chest already down onto the bed sheets as he pulls his torso as close to his knees as possible. Juicy ass is as high as it could be and wow, the thong doesn’t do a good work at hiding the glimmer of the diamond butt plug.

Pity it didn’t come in any other color than white, but it came with the lingerie.

You didn’t even warn him when you turn the butt plug on.

The promised low setting already sounding pretty loud, his small huffs indicating it’s not as overwhelming yet.

Good.

But by now, you’ve left it on for a good while, watching as he tries not to lose his balance or shuffle too much to ‘lose the appeal’.

He’s cursing at you in airy moans, vermillion eyes glaring at you. Why are you teasing him? You’re meant to be nice.

It’s his fucking birthday

You’d punish him for his impatience, but you already punished him the day before.

You don’t want him not being fucked in the ass so you turn the vibrator up to the last setting, smiling sweetly as he curses even louder

This is still punishing but nice, right?

He seems to agree

His arms are restless, moving from staying beside him to moving above his head to grip at the sheets.

His hands also go to grab his ass and pull the cheeks apart to show you how he’s clenching desperately around the toy, whining about how he needs you right now, to stop fucking around and get your big ass cock in him or else-

But that “or else” doesn’t really get finished, not with you startling him with your speed and sight of the ribbons.

His arms are tied now, forcing him to keep spreading his ass, to keep showing himself off.

This has him burying his face into the bed, hiding how red he’s gotten from embarrassment.

You don’t allow that, so you press your hand onto the plug to push it in deeper.

He yells out your name, body jolting as the toy relentlessly messes with his prostate while your other hand curiously goes to touch the front.

The thong is absolutely soaked and sticky, and when you move your fingers against the fabric to feel just how sticky it is, Bakugou tries humping them, well, really just trying to rub his dick against your fingers because wow the stimulation of the fabric is n i c e.

But you’re not having it just yet, you wanna appreciate his perfect posture a bit more.

Reminder: the butt plug is already at its highest setting.

So the next best thing you can do is smack his ass because your baby loves that, loves how you leave compliments and praise for how it jiggles and gets a pretty red. He does it for you, after all, makes sure it’s always at its best presentation.

But he’ll never tell you shit because then you’ll tease him and embarrass him in front of his friends.

So a few slaps in, being careful with his hands, all followed by cooing at how it moves, how it blushes, how it’s now matching his face and probably dick too, has him trying to fuck back into the vibrator, but he’s humping absolutely nothing and growing more and more desperate and horny.

You back away from the bed, going for your camera to take another pic for your growing collection.

On the bed lies Bakugou Katsuki, all tied up, lingerie getting sticky with precum, the laciest garterbelt you’ve ever seen decorating his waist while he’s panting heavily, ass in the air, face completely red and wet, whether it be his sweat or tears.

He’s holding his ass apart to show you the vibrating diamond butt plug that’s been stuck in the highest setting, buzzing away as he’s whimpering your name, hiccuping “mommy, mommy, mommy” as he pleads for mercy, wiggling his ass as he tries luring you back to his body.

“M-mommy! Hnnnm tuh-touch me! Plea-ease? Please~”

Hey, aren’t you supposed to be nice? Eh...

He can’t come alone from the vibrating butt plug, never has been able to before, and if his rocking hips don’t indicate how much he wants to either fuck the bed or have your hand on it, you just ignore it.

Let’s see if tonight he’ll be able to cum hands-free for once. And make sure he cries more and more everytime he gets to cum from your cock and only because of your cock.

Basically that’s your birthday gift. Fuck him good until he either forgets his name, he's a babbling, crying mess, he's completely milked, or all of the above.

After hours of being edged by the toy he finally came, but in thin, small amounts, so you had to fuck out a few more rounds and cum out of him before he passed out.

In all honesty, he begged you to fuck him until he passed out. He had been fantasizing about it, after all.

After you both had your final orgasm of the night, rather early morning, he’s in tears, body trembling through the last tremors of his 2nd dry orgasm out of what? 7 orgasms? The copious amount of cum he’s managed to get milked out of him drying everywhere on his body, drool wetting the bed sheets even more than they were, room smelling like caramel, asshole fluttering around nothing and dick twitching as if wanting more.

Bakugou’s speaking gibberish at this point, the only coherent words leaving his dumb mouth being “mommy”, “more” or your name as he slowly succumbs to his exhaustion.

You give him your premium grade A aftercare during the little time he remained conscious and took care of everything else as he slept.

Next day, you cook breakfast, even if he grumbled about the taste or appearance.

He’s a good boy, he’s not gonna yell at you or be ungrateful with anything and everything you do, considering you put up with his anger. I mean, he gives his opinions, insights, inquiries through loving shouts of disapproval and approval.

All in all, he liked his birthday, but told you he kind of expected you to throw a party and had mentally prepared himself

Goddamn it. Guess next year you’ll call Mina for some help

[under-the-cherrytree]

Heya! Thank you for answering my request! Now, can I get yandere big bro. Not an incest obviously l. teru, kou and tsukasa and hanako with little sis/bro gn s/o?

Now the thing is s/o usually got a mistreat at school due to people jealous of them (kou,teru) on tsukasa & hanako case (a yokai seems to wanting tsukasa & hanako beloved dead)

However s/o seems to not mind it at all. Btw, s/o is student at the school. And seems to be reincarnated after they die, and seems to believed hanako & tsukasa after they said they were s/o ghost brother and s/o reincarnated.

Now what would be the scenario when they find s/o is sitting on the floor. Wet around their hair and their clothes seems to be been damaged. When they Ask what happen s/o said.

"oh, big brother, I'm sorry...i'm really is...today is your birthday...but..." S/o keep cry and then said this while sobbing so hard "today, there's a girl who want me to introduce her to you. But I want to give you the gift and reject her, the girl obviously didn't take it well and...she make her group do this" "i-i...keep...trying to saving money to buy you this caused i want it to be secret...but-i..guess..there's nothing to give to you" while showing a blue (blue sky) (blue light) kou.

Tsukasa & Hanako Case

"big brother...since this is your both birthday I thought it would be better to get you both a gift. But there's a girl who hate me. I didn't even knew why?" And then s/o just said while sobbing "I..know big brother hanako love donut, and and I'm sure big brother tsukasa loves it too...so I baked a homemade donut, but that girl destroy it...she...she said my cook is the worst and people who eat it will puked and not even a ghost want it" "also she steal the necklace that I buy for you two since she say I did not deserved that"

Green (hanako) red (tsukasa)

Headcannon and oneshot again please!

The Minamoto brothers and the Yugi twins with a bullied younger sibling❣︎

Warings: Hinting to murder?, bullying, abuse, slight cursing

A/n: Hey! Of course of course, I try to answer requests to the best of my ability!

I did this with the siblings combined so hope you don’t mind shshjsh

Heehee hope you enjoy, my love~

Teru was your older brother and he made that known to the school

You loved the fact that you were known as Teru’s younger sibling

You loved your brother

But you knew you would be used for it

People would fake being your friend just to get close to Teru

Then once they got rejected, they always blamed you

You didn’t mind, you still wanted to be Teru’s younger sibling

Teru slowly picked up on this

He knew something was up so he told Kou

Those two tried to keep a close eye on you

But while they were there, it look like you had lots of friends

But when they left the bullying begun again

But sooner or later, the other girls true colors will start to show

Teru and Kou are protective brothers

The girls in your class should have known to not get on your brothers bad side

“Teru-nii! Looks like you got a lot of presents!” Kou called out, running to his older brother who was standing at the entrance of the school. Teru chuckled and looked back at his backpack which was full with presents from fangirls.

“Well, I guess I do...” Teru patted his younger brother on the head, making him smile brightly. “Where’s Y/n? Aren’t they supposed to be with you after cleaning the bathroom?”

“They are…” Kou's expression turned into a slightly worried one “but they said they had to go early. They told me something about wanting to get something prepared to give to you for your birthday…”

Teru sighed, he was worried. He already had suspicions that you were getting mistreated in your class but he didn’t know for sure so he never confronted you about it. He has confronted Kou about this and he had the same suspictions as well.

“Well let's go get them!” Teru clapped his hands and made his way towards the building.

“Do you think it's…” Kou didn’t want to finish the sentence.

“Let's hope not.” Teru’s carefree expression lowered at the thought. “Do you know where they went?”

Kou thought for a moment.

“No, but I know they aren’t in the old school building…”

Teru and Kou walked around the school for a while, looking for you in no avail. Kou pointed out little droplets of water that slowly got bigger reaching to the school's lockers. The boys froze when they heard sounds of sobbing. They turned the corner to see you facing your lockers drenched in water. You leaned onto your locker, closing it.

“Y/n..!” Kou called out, making you turn to him. “What happened?!”

“Who the hell did this to you…?” Teru asked, examining your ripped close and abused appearance. You looked at him and only cried more.

“I’m sorry big brother Teru…”

“Y/n, you don't need to be sorry, this isn’t your fault..!” Teru hugged you “What happened..?”

“I-its your birthday today… but there was this girl who wanted me to introduce you to her... but I said no, she didn’t take it too well and did this…” You sobbed into his shoulder. Teru’s grip on you tightened thinking about how this only happened while he was outside with Kou.

“I-I saved my money… to buy you a nice sky blue necklace… and I even got big brother Kou light blue one as well… b-but she destroyed it and I don’t have anything to g-give you…”

“Y/n that’s so sweet! We are extremely thankful!” Kou tried to lighten the mood a bit, giving you a gracious smile. You could see tears pricking the corner of his eyes. Teru was still angry that his suspicions were true, he was praying they weren’t.

“Who did this?” Teru sternly asked.

“I-it’s fine Teru…” You kneeled to the ground picking up pieces from the necklace she destroyed “She already left… there is nothing I can do now…”

“Y/n… please…” Kou kneeled down next to you and put his hand on yours.

“Guys, what would make me feel better is if we got home… can we please go home?” Your voice was begging. You just wanted to be in a warm blanket watching T.V. with your siblings.

That's all you wanted right now.

“Okay… I’m sorry Y/n, let's go home okay!” Teru gave you his jacket which you happily accepted.

“Even though I couldn’t get the gift, it meant the world to me!”

----

You sighed walking to your classroom. It was early and you were tired. You were happy your brothers didn’t ask you about it for the rest of the night, you didn’t want them to worry. You thought you would get a load from the girls who did this to you yesterday but you were shocked when she bowed in front of you instead.

“Y/n! I am so sorry! Please forgive me for what I did to you yesterday! It was very rude of me and I am very sorry!” She was shaking.

“Oh, uh, it’s alright..! No need to bow, I forgive you…” You put your hands in front of your chest, genuinely confused. Once she stood straight up you saw a big red mark on her cheek. She had tears in her eyes but ran to her desk before you could get a better look at her. You looked to Tsuchigomori who only nodded with an apologetic look on his face.

‘What happened this morning…?’

----

“Teru? You still look down?” Kou faced his brother as they both walked to class.

“Sorry Kou… just a little upset by the person who did this to Y/n…” Teru apologetically smiled.

“Well you slapped her, that taught her a lesson!” Kou encouraged.

“Trust me Kou,” Teru’s smile turned into a frown

“If a teacher wasn’t there, I would have kicked her ass.”

Amane found it unforunate you were caught in the crossfire of him and his brothers conflic causing you too kill yourself as well

Tsukasa thought it was great that his younger sibling was now dead too

Gosh Tsukasa-

But what they didn’t expect was for you to get resurrected

You were able to see supernaturals yourself and you couldn’t age from the day you died but you weren’t a ghost like your brothers

Tsuchigamori helped you establish a somewhat normal school life

It was all good for the most part, you were back in school, Hanako was the leader of the 7 mysteries, and Tsukasa was just crazy happy

The fact you are getting mistreated is mostly Tsukasa’s fault

Like he can make a lot of enemies so when the fish yokai (that he killed) saw how close you and Tsukasa were, of course they wanted to kill you

It was also a perk that you were Hanako’s sibling since they wanted to get back at him as well for stealing their princess Yashiro away from them

You were weak and had a human body, you were perfect

Amane had no idea about this, Tsukasa didn’t know you were being abused but he did know he pissed off those fish AND HE PISSED EM OFF GOOD-

You figured you would be a target for yokai since your older brothers are powerful

Of course, you didn’t mind this

You knew this would happen so it’s alright!

But the thing was, it wasn’t so alright with your older brothers

Hanako watched the cherry blossoms fall from the tree that he sat under. It was November 25, his birthday, and you said you wanted to have a talk with the two boys. Normally you would talk to them separately because you knew how Amane felt towards his twin brother, but today you wanted to talk to them together. Hanako cancelled his normal cleaning duty and waited where you said to meet up.

“Amane!!” He heard a scream from behind him but before he could turn around he felt someone hug him, wrapping their legs around his waist.

“Oh, Tsukasa…” Hanako said softly, personally finding this kind of awkward.

“Where’s Y/n?? It’s been so long since I’ve seen them!” Tsukasa removed his head from Amane’s neck looking around for you.

“Oh, they aren’t here yet, and I remember them saying they saw you two days ago…”

“So long ago!” Tsukasa whined and Amane sighed at his childish behavior. It went silent but thankfully Tsukasa quickly broke it.

“Didn’t Y/n say to meet them here 15 minutes ago??”

“Yeah they did…” Amane started to get worried.

“They're late!” Tsukasa pouted.

“You’re late as well Tsukasa… And we should go look for them.”

“I’ll lead the way! I know where their last class is!” He stood up and started marching, Hanako closely behind him.

They walked around the school for a while, watching students run across the halls to their clubs, laughing and gossiping with one another. Tsukasa continued to march, not losing the bounce in his step. They came closer to the sound of someone crying, sobs getting louder as they approached a classroom. The twins looked at each other before Tsukasa opened the door.

You jumped slightly, removing your head from between your legs to look at who came in. You only began to cry more realizing it was your two brothers.

“Y/n…?” Tsukasa slightly whispered to himself, staying at the door's entrance.

“Y/n! What happened?!” Amane ran to you, fearing you were hurt in any way. He put his arm on your wet shoulder, looking around to see if there were any visible bloody wounds. He looked at your uniform which was damaged and had a few cuts in it. Your hair was also wet like if someone poured water on you. Tsukasa slowly made his way over to you, examining you up and down. You couldn’t make out the expression on his face but you knew anger was there.

“I-I’m sorry…” You said a little above a whisper.

“You’re sorry for what..?” Amane asked, moving the wet hair out of your face to get a better look at your soaked, tear-stained face.

“Big brothers...since this is both your birthdays... I thought it would be better to get you both a gift. But there are these fish yokai who don’t like me..!” You picked up a couple red and green gems from the floor. Hanako’s eyes widened.

“I... know big brother Amane liked donuts and I assume big brother Tsukasa likes them as well… but they took the donuts I made you saying my cooking was t-the worst and you wouldn’t want it..!” You continued “And they took the necklace I bought for you guys saying I don’t deserve it…”

“Were they talking fish..?” Tsukasa's voice was cold, eyes wide with rage. You only nodded your head.

“Amane, will you stay with y/n? I have something I need to do.” Tsukasa turned to Amane. Hanako already knew what he was going to do.

He was going to go after the mermaid and her fish. There was nothing he could say to stop him.

“O-okay… do what you have to do…” Amane nodded and Tsukasa left the room.

“W-wait… where is he going..?” You started to get up but Amane sat you back down.

“Hey, don’t worry Y/n… older brother Tsukasa is going to take care of this okay?” Amane hugged you.

“But I don’t mind the fish… it’s fine-”

“No. It’s not.” Amane’s aura grew darker before his loving brotherly smile appeared again.

“And hopefully by tomorrow, you won’t have to deal with those disgusting fish!”

----

“Y/n! Amane!” Tsukasa called out as he walked down the halls. When he approached the door he opened it revealing you and Amane laughing. You were somewhat dry and you stopped crying.

“Tsukasa!” You got up and gave him a hug.

“What happened to those fish…?” Worryness in your voice.

“Don’t worry about it Y/n! You don’t need to worry about them anymore!” He childishly smiled, bringing ease to you.

“Amane approached you two, smiling. He looked to see Tsukasa’s hand that was behind his back covered in blood. Hanako's smile dropped and he went silent. He quickly regained his composure and turned to you.

“Yeah, Y/n you don’t need to worry about those fish. Your big brothers will kill any other supernatural that dares hurt you!”

[memxntomxri]

𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚕𝚎

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮 | 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 - bisexual!hinata shouyou x gn!reader, hinata shouyou x miya atsumu

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 - angst, break up

𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤 - hinata shouyou is trustworthy - with everything except for your heart

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 - 2.4k words

𝘵𝘸 - slightly descriptive nsfw?, cheating (i'm sorry to be doing my children hinata and atsumu dirty this way but this got stuck in my head 😭), major angst, break-up, no happy ending, lots and lots of crying, lots and lots of reader's internal thoughts, atsumu is an asshole

𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 - this is the result of brainrot i had stuck in my head after reading chapter 18 of SabbyWrites' A Study in Depravity. HAIKYUU BOYS ARE NOT CHEATERS - I REPEAT, HAIKYUU BOYS ARE NOT CHEATERS. BISEXUAL PEOPLE ARE ALSO NOT CHEATERS. i just couldn't resist writing this lmao

also, i'm doing my best to make this a gender-neutral reader, but it might lean more towards AFAB/non-binary readers since i'm both ashelkgjkdlkjf male-identifying readers i'm sorry

thanks @meiansmistress, lou (LouEve_094 on ao3), lena, and emmy (Noisy_Emmy on ao3) for betaing! your feedback helped me a lot

𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙙𝙣𝙞 - there are some descriptive scenes of smut in here 👀 shoo, shoo

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

You know this.

It's the reason you met, after all.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

The summer you moved to Miyagi, following your father's dream of teaching in a little town similar to the one he lived in as a child, you were unhappy. Who could blame you, after all? You had a comfortable life back in Osaka, and unlike your father, you were a city dweller at heart. It was also the middle of your first year of high school—who wanted to transfer schools, let alone across prefectures, in the middle of a school year?

It was hot in Miyagi, and when the moving truck broke down on the side of the road, the entire family piled out and sat on the curb. Just your father (who you were still mad at), your mother, and you. That was what it had always been. Sure, you had friends, but somehow the friendships never got too deep. You were willing to bet that within a month, there would be no texts other than the occasional New Year's greeting or "happy birthday" from your so-called friends back in Osaka.

And don't even get you started on romantic relationships. It wasn't that you weren't attractive, or that you weren't easy to get along with—it was just that there was never anybody. Yes, you had liked people before, but nothing had ever come of it.

Your mother piped up, saving you from your dark thoughts about the state of your relationships with other people. "Y/n, love, can you go back down the hill again? I think we saw a konbini a bit that way, please buy some cool drinks." she says, depositing coins in your outstretched hand. Oh well, something to do, you supposed.

You strolled casually down the road, sweating buckets. When you pushed open the doors of the konbini—Sakanoshita Store, you noted, it definitely didn’t look like a konbini—opened, you basked in the cold air of the air conditioner for a bit. As you stood there, looking a bit dumb with your arms outstretched, you felt a weight barrel into you from behind.

With a bang, you fell forward, the weight landing on your back. "Ow!" you cried, rubbing your right wrist, which had unceremoniously made contact with the ground, pain shooting up the limb. You twisted around to glare at whatever had so unceremoniously bowled you over. You were met with the sight of wide, brown eyes and flushed cheeks. "Sorry!" the boy squeaked, getting off of you quickly. "So sorry!" You frowned and got up.

"Watch where you’re going, okay?" You were a few centimeters taller than him, you noted.

He started blabbering, talking about how he needed to get the first-aid kit because a "Stingyshima" had "accidentally" ran into "Bakageyama" and this "Bakageyama" now had a bleeding knee and that he was the fastest runner in their volleyball club (he was strangely emphatic about this point). By the time he was finished rambling, you were chuckling slightly. It was obvious that he hadn't meant anything by running into you, and it was actually kind of endearing how earnestly he was trying to explain himself.

You held up a hand, stopping him from continuing to ramble. "Y-you aren't mad, right?" he asked anxiously. You smiled and shook your head slightly. "It seems your team trusts you to help take care of your friend, so why don't you grab the first-aid kit and go help him?" You suggested gently.

He nodded quickly and darted behind the counter, grabbing a white box. As he jogged away, he seemed to remember something and turned around to holler at you. "My name's Hinata Shouyou! I'm a first year!" he introduced himself in a bright voice.

Just inside the konbini, a small smile slipped across your face.

Hinata Shouyou, huh. He seemed nice.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's the reason you fell in love with him.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

The first day of school, you meet Hinata Shouyou again. And again. And again. He somehow seems to pop up everywhere you go—not that you're complaining, he's entertaining and nice—and soon, you think you can count yourself as his friend.

You go to his game against Aoba Johsai, then Shiratorizawa, then you're hugging him as he jumps up and down, celebrating their win. That’s the first time your heart jumps when you look at him, haloed by the lights of the gym.

Slowly, you feel yourself falling in love with him. Not just falling for him, no, because Hinata Shouyou will not let anyone do anything in halves, especially not falling in love. Shouyou, to you, (because by then you were on first-name basis) is someone you can rely on, someone that is always there, like the sun, trustworthy.

And because he is always there, it's also easy to confess to him in your second year. You know him well enough by now to know that even if he doesn't feel the same, nothing would change about your friendship except for the addition of unspoken words. And you think that he might love you back, if the lingering glances and brighter smiles are any indication.

Your guess is right, and by New Year's break, the two of you are a happy couple.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's why you let him go, if only for a little bit.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

When Shouyou left for Brazil, you took a break from each other. To be honest, it was your idea.

It wasn't that you didn't think that you couldn't trust him ten thousand kilometers away—it was that you knew you would hold him back. He was going to Brazil to chase his dream, and having a tether to his hometown would only slow him down. It hurt, having to say goodbye at the airport, but somehow the two of you got through it.

You still talked—a little more than "just friends" should—but you were careful not to let him think that you were together.

Shouyou was meant for greater things, and back then, as an insecure, just-barely-adult going into medical school, you weren't sure if you fit into the picture.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's the reason why you let him back in.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

When Shouyou returns from Brazil, the first person he visits is you. You, all the way out in Osaka, pushing yourself to your limits as you study for med school. When you open your door and see him standing there, smiling as bright as ever, you fall into his arms—both literally and metaphorically. It turns out, even two years later, you trust him to catch you.

It was all too natural for you and Shouyou to get back together, and by a stroke of luck, he joins the MSBY Black Jackals, right there in Osaka. You move in together, his slightly larger salary allowing the two of you to rent a bigger apartment.

Yes, it's hard work being in a relationship again, but you like having Shouyou to return to every night after your shift is over. You wake up early every morning to make the two of you breakfast and lunch, and Shouyou always has dinner waiting for you when you step back in the door, often also staying up so that you can talk.

You're content.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's the reason why you think nothing of his closeness with his teammates.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Shouyou has always been a people-magnet. Even back in high school, everyone loved him. Shouyou is bisexual. You know this. He’s always had more than enough love to give back, too, and his bisexuality had never impacted your relationship. Why should it, when you’re every bit as queer as him? Your relationship was strong, and you believed in it. That's why, at every team dinner that he takes you to, when someone else inevitably takes the seats next to him instead of you and you're relegated to a corner, you don't worry about it. Shouyou loves you, and it doesn't matter where you sit for a couple of hours.

Yes, Miya Atsumu is a bit aggressive whenever Shouyou compliments him, throwing a smirk over his shoulder at you triumphantly, but you chalk it to them being good friends and Miya-san wanting to get to know you better by having a little friendly competition, and that's okay.

Yes, Shouyou starts going out with his team more and more, but they're his team. He's supposed to be close with them.

Yes, you start to feel a little neglected, but it wasn't as if you were the most attentive back when you were still struggling through med school.

And anyways, Shouyou always makes time for the two of you on Saturdays, your designated date nights. You have trust in your relationship, in its rock-tight foundation built upon years of knowing each other.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Hinata Shouyou is trustworthy.

It's why you believe his words.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

One Friday, after an especially busy shift at the hospital that got cut short for you when a coworker unexpectedly came in to fill in for you, you decide to head home early and get some rest, maybe cuddle with Shouyou while watching those romcoms you both enjoy.

You had told him that you'd be home late that night, and you hoped that you could surprise him with some dinner. So, you swung by his favorite yakitori place and ordered dinner, driving home as fast as you safely could.

As you open the door to your apartment, you hear the distinctive sounds of sex, skin slapping on skin, grunts and moans, high keens. You frown. Maybe Shouyou was watching porn? He sometimes liked to get himself ready (the two of you enjoyed the occasional pegging) before you got home. You drop the food on the kitchen table and put your jacket on the hook.

"Love, I'm home!" you call out softly. No response.

Frowning deeper now, you move towards the bedroom door. Just as you're about to open it, you hear something that stops you cold.

"A-ah, Atsumu!" It's distinctively Shouyou's voice, and suddenly, you can't move anymore.

Shouyou, who told you you could make it through med school.

Shouyou, who made you yakisoba and miso soup whenever you were stuck studying.

Shouyou, who whispered sweet nothings in your ear every morning as the two of you made breakfast.

Shouyou, who is currently in bed with Miya fucking Atsumu.

You want to get up, you want to slam open the door, you want to demand answers, but somehow, you can't get your legs to budge from the spot in the ground they've rooted themselves to.

Then,

"Who do you love, Sho?" Atsumu growls.

Your heart skips a beat.

No.

No.

You pray to all the gods you know that what's about to pass Shouyou's lips will miraculously stay trapped in his throat, but it seems like the gods don't feel kind today.

"Y-you, Atsumu, you!" you hear Shouyou cry.

Your heart shatters into a million little kaleidoscopic pieces. Tears start running down your face, hot, involuntary, painful, because they represent the six years of a beautiful relationship down the drain, because nothing will ever be the same, because Shouyou is cheating on you.

Finally, your legs decide to move again. It seems like someone else is controlling your body as you walk towards the door, opening it with a shaking hand.

Shouyou is pinned down by Miya-san on the bed, legs thrown over his shoulder, as he slams into him.

The door bangs against the wall.

Shouyou looks up, and when he sees you, his face floods with guilt.

You don't say anything. You just stand there, tears flooding down your face, betrayal evident in your expression.

"Y-y/n!" he says. "I-I- I swear, this isn't-" he begins.

You cut him off. "I don't want to hear it, Shouyou." you spit.

Miya-san chuckles. "Who are we kidding, this is exactly what they think it is. What, did you think that you would be enough to satisfy Sho? You, with your infinitely busy schedule? You, who has no clue about volleyball?" he says, cutting into you.

"Atsumu, stop!" Shouyou says, frantic. He can tell that he's going to lose you, but he's not going to go down without a fight. "Babe, I love you, please-" he says, getting out of Miya-san's embrace and moving towards you. You sidestep him, holding a duffel bag with a change of clothes.

You stand there, looking at the scene, chuckling darkly inside your head. Just a scorned lover, a man, and his side-piece. You take a deep breath.

"You know, Shouyou, if you fell in love with someone else, you should've just told me. I trust you to be honest. I'm leaving—because even though you might love me, you're in love with Miya-san." you said.

Shouyou looks stricken with guilt, but you know it's from lying, not because he loves you anymore. Your laugh is broken and rough on the ears. "You think I didn't hear you? Oh, Shouyou, I heard more than enough. Have a nice life, and I hope that you remember how you broke me. I hope it fucking haunts you to the day of your death," you hurl at him.

Because even though at that moment you're screaming at him, you know that you still love him, that you’ll always will love him, and that you will carry this scar for the rest of your life. And even though you love him enough to leave now, to let him be with the person he loves—you still have enough love for yourself to hope that he bears some of the weight of this horrible, messy end too.

And with that, you walk out the door.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

But you're wrong.

Hinata Shouyou might love Miya Atsumu, but he still loves you more.

Years later, looking back, he comprehends that he didn't just break you. As he stares at his empty apartment, devoid of a lover—because what you said was true, he still carries the guilt, the memory of your tear-stained face, the recollections of your golden time together that ruined any relationship he might have had before it started, the echo of your absolute trust in him,

—Hinata Shouyou realizes he ruined himself too.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

© ʙᴇᴛʜᴇʏᴅᴏᴄʀɪᴍᴇᴡʀɪᴛᴇꜱ 2021 - ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Do yiu want to maybe write a lil smth about big dick daddy and his strength.... pleasd and thank u ❤️🥵

Okay hun just a quick headcannon might not be exactly what you were after but porn is ponr 🤷‍♀️ 😘😘

Warnings: smut, nsfw, size difference, toys, car sex, exhibitionism, daddy kink, filth

You bent forward with the slightest of winces, this probably wasnt the best idea to use this particular toy when you had yoga class.

Today was henry's birthday, you were going to skip class but sadly he had a meeting this morning and had insisted on you coming to class.

You really should of stuck to your guns and stayed home

But it was to late now, you were here in the middle of class, this time at the back becuase you were nervous about anyone seeing it through your leggings.

You had a surprise for your sweet boyfriend, it had taken a few days of prep work but you were on the final stage

You see there was an issue in the bedroom. He was ridiculously endowed... like seriously before meeting him you rolled your eyes at that whole 'i can see it in her guts' porn cliche that men tried to boast about.

Not anymore. Nope, it was definitely a thing.

You were thankfull he was strong enough and could lift you with his arms and make you 'hover' as he drilled you mindful of just how much he fed your needy but small pussy.

You could never take him fully and although he never minded it got to you. You wanted to be good for him, to give him everything. And take everythig!

So you decided to get a set of plugs to help... loosen you a tad, it was more a length issue then a... girth?

You were on your second day of your biggest toy and it was strange streaching and doing yoga with the toy rubbing your tender walls.

It was down right torturous!

You heaved in relief as the teacher wrapped up the class and bolted outside needing to get home and cool off

The beep of a horn called you across the road to where henry was waiting in the car.

You crossed the road quickly opening the door throwing your bag behind the passenger seat and climbed in "Ah~fucking fuck!"

Henry froze and cast you a strange look as you bit your lip and shuddered as your ass met the seat...

That didnt make sense? You hadnt been spanked for a few days

"Babe? You okay? Did you pull something?" He asked slowly concern creasing his brow

"I wish, no no i- lets go, i need to get back and chill... need a fucking shower you cringed, you really did, not just to cool down either.

"Okay if your sure" he said pulling away from the curb.

During the ride home he kept a close eye on you, noting the soft mewls and panting... especially when he let the car over rev a little, trying to help with the battery which had been playing up recently.

"Babe your going red, have some of your drink" henry said half way home nodding to your bag behind the seat.

"Yeah.. okay" you hummed unclipped your seat belt, holding the bottle would give you something to do with your hands, take the temptation of slipping you fingers to your crotch as the car vibrated the plug.

You moved leaning over the center console and cralwed back bending over reaching your bag. Unknowingly presenting the little bulging base of the plug in your pussy

"No fucking way!?" Henry growled doing a double take as he saw the little tell tale bump

Before you could ask what he meant a hugge hand came up landing over your slit in a light spank making you moan

"Oh god~ hen!?" You moaned and tried to reverse back into you sea but henrys hand remained on the end of the plug and wriggled it side to side sending you into a chorus of wanton moans

"Baby girl? You wore a plug to yoga?" He laughed enjpying the way you collapsed over the centre console

He moved repositioning his arm to rest his elbow and fore arm on your back fingers slipping under the leggings and following the creas of your ass to the wet pussing lips wrapped around the plug.

"Hen- daddy! Noo let me up!" Ou protested not likejng being bent over in the car for the world to see it they wished!

"Oh hush, we're almost home! Its nothing you dont deserve your naughty girl!" He teased clasping the plug and slowly began thrusting the toy in and out

"Oh gos! Listen to that~ such a messy girl? All drenched and slippy~" you mewled and began panting unable to stop rocking back.

"D-daddy please! Not in the car!"

"So yours embarrassed being caught with your toy in the car, but not your yoga class?-pfft yoga all those streches must have been fun baby girl~ tell me what was your favourite? Is this a naughty little secret?" He spoke cheerfully amused by the predicament youd got yourself in

"No-no i didnt mean it! Daddy its not like that!"

"No? Then why do you have this in your little pussy babygirl?" He asked genuinely curious

"Its for you daddy! For your birthday! I made'em bigger so you can... all in..." you stuttered as he began fuckingnyou faster. But he stopped at your comment

"You've been getting yourself ready so daddy can fuck you deeper?" He said out loud as he managed to pull the car into the drive thanking god this was an automatic.

Cy-yeah! Please-Ugh daddy!?" You cried as with a quick flick of his hands your leggings were at your knees and the plig was pulled free.

He whistled low when he saw just what your stuffed yourself with... definitely longer then anything else he'd seen you use before.

You moaned as he left you needy on the edge.

He didnt waist time just feeling hos wet and horny you were had him fully erect already.

He ditched the plug on the passenger seat paying no mind to your yells of 'is gonna stain!'

Deft fingers latched onto your hips as he pulled himself free.

"God your such a good girl~ so precious" he purred before hoisting you to straddle him and without hesitation impaling you on him fully.

"F-Fuuuck! Daddy it oh god!" You groaned feeling him press you down onto his thighs tightly grinding hissing through his teeth.

"Fuck! Fuck thats-god your so hot! So tight babygirl~" you whined as your leggings at your knees was stretched across his chest pressing your legs high and spread like a resistance band holding you open to him

"Ah daddy ! Please! Fuck please move!" You cried for him to fuck you despite being on top.

He chuckled heeding you and held your waist tightly before lifting your, bobbing you up and down on him.

He grunted straightening his legs into the foot well and moved you faster, just like he would a fleshlight useing your body as his own toy, only this time you were accepting him entirely.

His head rested on the head rest and he moaned louder widening his thighs reveling in the feel of your ass beuching his balls as he drove deeper.

You panted moaning and wriggling squirming in his grasp as he used you properly for the first time.

You fought him as things got too much, but it was no use, he had clamped his hands on you and was too lost to give any wiggle room. You loved it!

Then finally with a huge growl and roar he tugged your hips to his in bruisong thrusts markingnyou with his fingers as he plundered you in the last few thrusts

Bringingnyou high enough you feared oud hit to roof of the car.

Just as quickly as he'd taken you he finished locking you to his lap pressing as far as he could into your body floddjng your jnsides sendingnyou into your own orgasm

You flexed and kicked your entire body trembling and fighting as he held you still feedinnyour cunt as much as he could.

"Fuck! Fuck that- why has it taken this long to try car sex" you panted slowly coming down from your high.

"I dont know, but fuck if that wasnt the best quicky we ever had"

"Beats the public bathroom" you agreed

"Hands down... soo round two?"

"Inside... i can hear kal barking" you uttere flushing tipping your head hearing the bear belting out the song of his people

"Good shout..." henry chuckled

"Henry... happy birthday" you uttered

"Thank you... it's best present ever... how long you been wearing them?"he said nodding to the plug that had left an embarrassing puddle onnthe leather.

"Only a week" you shrugged leaning over grasping the plug.

"Used to it then?" He quipped staringm off in thought

"Yeah pretty much... why?" You answered anxiously

"I expect this as my very own homecoming treat from now on babygirl... do you understand princess?"

"Yes daddy~ comemon lets go inside i want round two!" You giggled nodding to him excitedly. You don't mind the inconvenience of plugs if it gives you mind blowing sex

"I thought this was my present?" He pouted sweetly at how excited you were for his present

"You gonna say no to round two daddy?" You teased prodding his chest the little sweat patch on the grey tshirt making your mouth water, you couldn't help it you were far too gone.

"of course not! Lets get your cuffs out!" He laughed patting you ass prompting you to climb off of him and crawl back to the passenger seat and redress.

[geralehane]

The Quiet Heights | Chapter 1

You Are Now Entering The Quiet Heights

River West moves into a new neighborhood full of unexplainable things, and now she can't leave. Her only option is to try and solve the mystery that is The Quiet Heights, with its strange residents, friendly witches, an ominous all-knowing Library and a creepy Neighborhood Advisory Council that may or may not be behind most of the things going wrong. *** River hadn't left her apartment in a week. Ever since she moved here.

Well, not really –  she still needed food and her dog still needed daily walks, so it would be more correct to say that she hadn’t left her neighborhood for a week. With the almost-constant rain outside, it was quite easy to hole up in the apartment anyway. And with the heartbreak River was still nursing, spending days in complete solitude seemed like the only logical decision, so she chose to stick by it.

It was getting harder and harder to drag herself outside with every passing day. If it weren’t for her dog, she probably wouldn’t get out of bed at all, but Mouse has been getting restless as he usually does before his evening walk, and the contents of her fridge could use an upgrade. With a quiet groan, she stood up from the couch, put her laptop away, grabbed her coat and Mouse’s leash, and they were off.

The outside greeted her with crisp air and, of course, rain. Not the cozy kind, either; this one was tiny needles hitting the skin in the most unpleasant of ways and painting the streets in dull, washed-out gray. River tugged on her hood and scowled as she let Mouse drag her to the walkway behind the small apartment building. The convenience store was a short walk across it, and, after letting Mouse do his business and run around, she took the familiar route to the one-storeyed building.

The bell chimed as River walked in, Mouse trotting in tow. Lately, this and the interactions with the store owner have been the highlights of her days. Not that she was complaining, really. She didn’t know her name, but the woman behind the counter was always friendly in a non-talkative way - the best kind of friendly there was. On top of that, she allowed animals inside the store, so River didn’t have to agonize over the ethics of leaving your dog tied up alone outside. 

Upon River’s entrance, the shop owner greeted her with the usual kind smile. If it seemed a little tight-lipped today, River didn’t pay too much attention. Everyone’s dealing with their own things in their own way. 

The shopping process was barely a process, with her already knowing what she needed. There was some leftover ham and cheese in the fridge, so she grabbed a jar of pickles and some sliced bread. Making sandwiches was technically cooking, right?

 “Running on a tight schedule?” the owner asked as River approached the counter. She could only give her a confused frown. Perhaps it wasn’t too noticeable, but greasy hair in an unkempt ponytail and sweatpants with ugg boots she only bought because of the low effort they required when putting them on didn’t exactly scream in a hurry.  

“Not really, no,” she slowly replied, mostly to be polite. “Uh, how much is it?”

“That’ll be two-fifty,” the owner told her, distracted. Now River was beginning to realize she seemed off . Frazzled. “Just put it on the counter, I gotta close up.”

River’s frown deepened. Close up? It was barely seven pm and they were usually open well into midnight. Maybe she had an event to attend. A birthday, or a baby shower. Normal human things for people with a social circle they weren’t actively avoiding. “Okay.”

Now - when she said she needed to close up, RIver thought she meant she had to finish up some last-minute things before actually physically closing the door. But, as River fished for some change in her pockets, the owner ran to the door and began locking up. Three big locks for the barred door, and a satisfying click of the lock for the second regular metal door. Come to think about, did convenience stores in quiet remote neighborhoods really need that level of security? On the other hand, if you’ve ever been robbed at a gunpoint, you can never have enough doors, River reasoned. She didn’t know the woman’s life story enough to be questioning things.

The owner interrupted her inner musings with an impatient glance. “You done?”

“Uh. How am I supposed to leave?” The words felt clumsy on her tongue – that was the longest and the most eloquent sentence she’d said in a week. To another human, no less.

She huffed. “Back door,” duh was seemingly at the tip of her tongue.

River glanced at Mouse, who only blinked back. “Right.” She wasn’t even aware the store had a backdoor, but tonight was apparently the night of firsts. 

The owner, clearly fed up with River’s penchant for silent life contemplation, blew out an impatient sigh and all but shoved her towards the theoretical exit. “There,” she gestured. And, as if to further demonstrate its existence, the backdoor opened, revealing a mildly disheveled short woman in an honest-to-God traveling cloak. “Thank Goddess,” the woman uttered and darted further inside the store, paying little attention to the three of them. 

Mouse let out a tiny confused whine. River silently agreed. 

“Liana!” The shop owner cried out, completely appalled. “It’s late!” 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry!” came from somewhere between the aisles, a bit muffled and genuinely apologetic. The woman reemerged shortly after, clutching five packs of salt to her chest. “Nana’s a little sick,” she breathlessly informed the agitated shop owner as she dumped her bounty on the counter. “I just got back, and --” 

“Jesus, Liana, just take it and get out,” the shop owner exclaimed, rubbing her temple. “And you - you’re still here, seriously? Both of you go, now. ” 

“I - okay,” River muttered, not too thrilled about being yelled at for no apparent good reason. She tugged on Mouse’s leash and hurried outside, nearly colliding with the other woman - Liana - in the doorway. 

“You mind?” the woman huffed, before pushing past her.

“Not at all,” River said to her retreating back. Had interpersonal communication really changed that much in a week, or was she missing something? Clearly, she was. Or maybe that was the Quiet Heights way - treat your neighbor as rudely as humanly possible. 

At least it was no longer raining and they could walk back in relative peace. It was getting a little foggy, but River quite liked the fog. Maybe she’d even take the long way home.

“Good lord,” the shop owner grunted behind her back. “Liana!” 

The cloaked figure, already a good few feet away, stopped. River could only look between the two. “Judy?” Liana called back, uncertain.

Well. Now River knew the shop owner’s name, which was already past the comfortable relationship level she wanted to have with the woman. 

“You wanna make sure this one gets home?”

It took River a tad longer than she’d like to admit to realize she was the this one in question. Just as she was about to point out that this one was a grown woman perfectly capable of finding her way to her apartment, Liana spoke, after a tense beat. 

“There’s still time.” And with that, she turned and walked away, surprisingly fast for someone of her stature. 

River glanced at Judy. Judy shook her head, expression caught between concerned and impatient. In the end, the impatience won out, it seemed. “Run home, kid. Hope I see you tomorrow. Just…” she hesitated, as she grasped the door handle, and shook her head again. “Go straight home, and don’t leave till morning.” 

“I wasn’t -- going to,” River told the already closed door. 

As far as social interactions went, that one wasn’t great. Not that she’d call it disastrous - and she considered herself to be a bit of an expert on those. It was just… honestly, it was simply outside of any frame of reference she had. An overall bizarre experience she would not want to repeat. It was high time she followed Judy’s advice and went straight home, anyway. Even without the rain it wasn’t exactly summer out. 

The fog seemingly thickened as River turned and headed in the general direction of her apartment building - or, at least, what she hoped to be the general direction of her apartment building, at that point. Mouse, not usually one for swiftly returning back home, was way ahead of her, tugging on the leash almost as forcefully as he did when he had to pee particularly badly. At first, River figured that was the case, but he didn’t stop to sniff at the ground or the trees. He simply pressed on forward, as if he was determined to end up back at the apartment as soon as possible. 

Really, that should have been her first clue. But then, River never claimed to be particularly aware of her surroundings. 

She frowned when her dog was all but sprinting towards their building, inches from suffocating himself with his collar. “Mouse,” she called out harshly, and came to a stop. He only whined in response, and didn’t abandon his attempts. “Stay. Hey - stay. ” 

Now, Mouse was a great dog. River would go as far as calling him the perfect dog, and sure, she might be biased, but she wasn’t that far off, either. He was patient, friendly, and quiet. He rarely demanded attention but absolutely loved it when he got it, he sensed every change in her mood and always tried to cheer her up, and he was an extremely well-behaved dog that followed every rule and command out of an enormous amount of love he had for her in his little fluffy body. Any command, he followed. Even when he smelled chicken and ran to the kitchen to try and beg a piece out, only to be met with a firm “ bed ” - he’d just sigh and trot to the other room without a fuss. That was how serious Mouse was about being a good dog. 

So, needless to say, having to not only repeat a command, but watch Mouse actively disobey it both times was nothing short of a shock. River froze, briefly, in disbelief. Mouse did nothing of the sort. He wheezed, and dug into the mushy ground with all paws, and tugged with all of his medium-sized-dog might. Forward. Forcing River to take an ill-fated step towards the hidden slick puddle. That was how River found herself on her back, staring up at the silhouettes of the tree branches less and less visible through the rapidly setting fog. It reminded her of being in a sauna, almost. Last time she’d been to one, she was a teenager, and her cousin poured way too much water on the hot stones, and they almost suffocated, and the air was boiling with heat. 

Now, the air was sharp with cold, and her body groaned with protest at the impact of the fall. She winced as she sat up, slowly, praying that nothing was broken. Thankfully, she seemed to be in one piece. And Mouse was sure in for a stern scolding. As soon as she found him, of course. 

“Fuck,” she grunted, no longer caring about any potential injuries as she hurriedly stood up and helplessly clenched her empty, leash-less hand. “Mouse! Mouse! ” She whipped around, eyes wide, as she struggled to see the four-legged shape through the fog she now absolutely despised. Most likely, he ran to their building, but River no longer had any idea which way was which. She could be facing the building, or she could be facing the convenience store, she could be facing the direction that Liana woman went in - it was all the same to her now. Just the tree-shaped shadows floating through the fucking Milky Way, along with her. 

River took a couple of shuddering breaths, trying to calm herself down in the face of an impending panic attack. It was, after all, just a weather condition. No matter how bad it got, she was in the middle of a quiet, well-populated neighborhood, surrounded by buildings and people and civilization. Which - speaking of civilization, River thought sheepishly and reached for her phone. Maybe the flashlight could help with the mist. Or was it mist when you could actually see through it? 

River filed that unhelpful thought for later and turned the flashlight on. It did zero for visibility, but somehow, she still felt a little safer. Someone ahead clearly had the same idea, because she could make out a couple of tiny lights dancing in the distance. Relief flooded through her at the sight. They could help her find Mouse, or at the very least point her to her building. “Hey, guys!” She yelled at them, waving her phone and walking towards their lights. “I think I’m lost. Well, I definitely am,” she let them know, with a short laugh. 

The lights bopped a little in place, as if whoever was holding them was gesturing while speaking to each other. It suddenly occurred to River, then, that she might not be perceived as a friendly neighbor of a non-dangerous kind. She certainly gave off weird, might-be-crazy vibes to herself at the moment. But she also needed help, and rather badly at this point. Wherever he was, Mouse was probably absolutely terrified without his human. 

That thought gave her strength and speed, and she practically ran towards the strangers with their weirdly dancing flashlights. “I’m really sorry if I startled you - I just, I’m new here, I moved in last week.” She was about to say even more in her sudden stream of consciousness. That she was disoriented, and confused, and scared, however silly that might seem to her unknown neighbors. Or that she was so worried and anxious about Mouse she had an acute stomach ache. Or that she had no idea fogs could even get that bad in populated areas, and this had to be some kind of a phenomenon and shouldn’t it be documented by some weather agency? She had a lot to share with the hopefully friendly strangers, which, in hindsight, probably would have made the interaction awkward for everyone involved. 

In a way, the fact that there was no one to tell all of that to was a blessing in disguise.

River slowly realized the absence of anything but the lights as she came within six feet of them. And there they were, the lights. With no people attached to them. Just two round spheres suspended in the air, a touch bigger than a tennis ball. At first, River thought them to be some sort of forgotten, malfunctioning Christmas lights, but she couldn’t see any strings they could be attached to. 

Ball lightning, she came to the next logical conclusion. River read somewhere that those usually appeared during a thunderstorm, but nature was weird, ball lightning was hardly explained as it was, and with delayed fear River also remembered that the glowing orbs were highly unpredictable and dangerous. 

As if hearing her thoughts, one of the spheres bobbed in place before leisurely floating towards her. It didn’t really look like lightning. More of an LED bulb. A clean, cold white reminiscent of offices and hospitals. Now that River thought more about it - could ball lightning even be that perfect round shape and perfect bright color?

And were they all that dangerous, really? When was the last time ball lightning - if that thing even was the matter in question - killed anyone? 

River took a step closer as soft, silky thoughts flowed through her mind. She slowly cocked her head to the right, studying the orb, and gasped when the orb seemingly did the same, dipping in the air as it followed her head movement. What if it was… intelligent? What if-- 

A sharp, enraged bark cut through the mental mist River didn’t realize she was in. She wasn’t given an appropriate amount of time to react, however, because the next moment she found herself on her back for the second time that night, a petite body sprawled across her. 

“Mother fucker, ” the body groaned in a familiar voice. River hadn’t heard it that pained before - only annoyed with her general existence. “Get up, goddammit, get the fuck up!” 

Like that. It did come with a new flavor of panicked this time. And incessant angry barking in the background. 

River blinked. “Liana?” She asked, just to be sure. 

The body growled in frustration, but didn’t stop trying to tug River to her feet. Which was ambitious, to say the least, given River’s height and general uncooperation. “Get up ,” she practically snarled. Over her shoulder, River watched her sweet, well-mannered dog spray spit as he barked at the increasingly frantic glowing orbs. 

“Mouse,” she mumbled, and got up. 

“Fucking finally, ” Liana breathed out. She still did not stop tugging on River’s hand. Now, she was directing them away from the lights. 

No, River thought with sudden despair. She couldn’t just leave them - she couldn’t… 

A loud slap resonated through the fog, the entire left side of River’s face was on fire, and Liana briefly looked satisfied. “Get moving,” she instructed. River allowed herself to be led away, mostly out of sheer shock. Mouse was already in front of them, sprinting away, his tail tucked between his legs. 

It was a truly bizarre experience - slowly coming to it as she ran as fast as she could, clasping the hand of a near-stranger. The partying in the past was probably the closest thing to what she was currently going through. Seeing the world in brief flashes of consciousness while being dragged to a cab or a bathroom. 

It wasn’t fun then, and it wasn’t fun now. River shook her head and, with a stubborn scowl, dug her heels in the ground, coming to an abrupt stop. The movement - or, rather, the stopping of any movement - yanked Liana back, and they collided for the second time. River was fast enough to catch her, purely on instinct, and at least everyone stayed upright. 

Some were less thrilled about it than the others.

“You’re a freaking brick wall, you know that?” Liana informed her. “Also - what the fuck? Do you have a death wish or something, why are you stopping?” 

River was surprised enough to let her know that she did, actually. All of the therapists she saw, however briefly, deducted that within the first couple of sessions. But that was very much not the point. “Why are we running?” 

“Are you fucking - okay. Okay,” she watched as Liana closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said for the third time, not sounding like it in the slightest. Her eyes fluttered open, almost sparkling in the dark. Gray, River noted for the first time. And, apparently, almost silver when angry. “Look at your dog.” 

River did. But mostly because she wanted to, she told herself. Mouse greeted her with his tail still tucked firmly between his legs and his little face absolutely miserable. 

“Is he normally like that?” Liana asked next to her, quietly. 

“No,” River shook her head, blinking. “No, it’s…” 

“And was that, back there, normal?” 

The orbs floated to the front of her mind, peacefully bobbing in and out of darkness. “No,” River said again, trying to swallow the overwhelming anxiety down. “No, fuck - it wasn’t. What the hell was that?”

“Oh for fuck’s… Look at me ,” cold, slender fingers grasped her chin, and River found herself staring down, into the silver. “Do I seem normal?”

A sharp jab to her ribs let her know she took longer than Liana considered to be polite, and she nodded. “Yeah. I think so. Yeah.” 

“Amazing,” Liana deadpanned. “So could you trust me for a minute longer and just move ?” She must have read something on River’s face, then, because she sighed and spoke softer. “I will explain everything, I promise, but it will have to be later because we’re so out of time, River.” 

Right on cue, Mouse let out a howl he had never let out before, and River finally reasoned that even if she didn’t trust the woman she met approximately half an hour ago, at the very least she trusted her dog. 

So she grabbed his leash, and they ran.

***

“Huh. Guess it’s relatively safe to stay in the fog as long as it’s still quiet,” Liana mused to herself as she locked the door with practiced ease. 

“ Still quiet ,” River repeated after her. “You make it sound like it’s gonna be very not quiet very soon.” 

“Wow, she can speak in full sentences,” Liana told Mouse, surprise all over her face.

“Hilarious.”

“It’s a gift.”

“I was promised an explanation.” 

One dark eyebrow rises at her. “Great social skills.” She glanced at Mouse. “Is Mommy always this grumpy around people who just saved her life?” 

The dog didn’t have an answer to that. 

“We need salt,” Liana announced.

“Right. Of course we do.” River let her pass and then followed her to the kitchen. “For the door and the windows, right? So we’re dealing with demons, it’s - there’s something demonic out there?” 

“Didn’t peg you for a Catholic,” her guest threw over her shoulder. “And no, it’s not demons. At least, not the kind you’re thinking of. Salt has a wider range than that.” 

“Good to know,” River muttered, not sure if she meant it. 

***

They settled in the living room after spilling a line of salt in front of every possible entrance and double-checking the door. First thing Liana did was close the heavy curtains. “Thank Goddess Rose had some sense,” she noticed dryly. At River’s uncomprehending glance, she elaborated: “Rose lived here before you.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “How do you know it wasn’t me who put the curtains up?” 

“Was it?” 

River huffed at Liana’s pointed gaze. “...No.” 

“Alright. Please don’t look out the window.” 

“I was not going to.” River thought of something else, then. “What happened to Rose?”

“She died,” Liana let her know shortly. She was tilting her head to the right, seemingly listening for something. River didn’t think she wanted to know what it was she was looking for. 

“Did…” She licked her lips, quickly, and struggled not to glance at the window, “did this kill her?” 

“What?” Liana barely glanced at her as she kept intently listening for something. “No, she was like ninety-something, she died in her sleep.” 

“Why did you come back for me?” River didn’t mean for the question to get out, but it did anyway.

Liana glanced at her. “Your dog was running around alone.” She picked at an invisible string on her sleeve and didn’t look River in the eye as she spoke next. “Honestly, I didn’t think there was much to come back for.” 

River was just about to feel indignant when the real meaning of Liana’s words hit her. “Oh. You mean like…” 

“Yeah, thought we’d have to come back and bury you in the morning. If there was anything left to bury.” 

“You mean I would’ve been, what? Dissolved? Dusted?” She swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. That had to have been unpleasant - being reduced to particles. 

Her guest shrugged. “I don’t really know,” she admitted, and it looked like it pained her a great deal. “Sometimes people just... don’t come back. Val - she was Rose’s older sister.”

“Rose -- oh, the woman who lived here before me.” 

“Yes, great listening skills,” Liana snapped, before quickly closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “I - sorry. I tend to… do that. This is a high pressure situation.” 

“I gathered,” River deadpanned. 

“Yeah. So.” She took another breath and continued. “Val just walked out there one time. The last time we ever saw her, obviously. She was calling for James - he was her husband of forty or so years. Then the fog set in, I shut the blinds, and next morning, she was gone. No body, no… remains or anything.”

River decidedly did not like the word remains. “Well, thank you for coming back,” she told Liana, earnestly. “I know I mentioned my death wish, but that’s not how I imagined I’d go out.” 

“Stop,” Liana snapped. She sighed when River shot her a startled look. “Sorry, I just mean - you shouldn’t bring up something like that. That thing out there can get in your head. You’ve seen it yourself.” 

“Right. Sorry.” She wasn’t sure what she was apologizing for, but Liana seemed to accept it anyway as she nodded. 

For a moment, no one spoke. Liana carefully listened for something, and River just tried to keep it together and not freak out. On autopilot, she scratched at Mouse’s ears and played with his fur. The dog, it seemed, merely tolerated her touches, as if also craving some sense of normalcy as he curled up next to her, tense and anxious. 

She tried to focus on her breathing, but that just made her breathe faster, so she let her mind wander in the past. That, however, dredged up memories and feelings she was not ready to go through on her best days - much less during the night of supernatural horrors. Gritting her teeth, she closed her eyes and forced herself to think of her perfect day. She was definitely going to have one after they made it out alive. First, she’d take a long walk with Mouse. Then they’d have breakfast - she’d even cook like she used to before, mushrooms and peppers sauteed in real butter, scrambled eggs and coffee and a perfect toast. And–

“ River? ”

“Hmm?” She shook her head and focused on Liana again, who was watching her, cautiously. “Sorry, I – zone out, sometimes, it’s… What did you say?”

“I said nothing,” Liana replied, and she looked darkly concerned as she slowly stood up. “Okay. You need to listen to me—”

“ —River .” That wasn’t Liana’s voice. It wasn’t her calling River now, and it wasn’t her calling before, since the sound came from the side of the window.

“River!”

She knew that voice. River knew that voice very well. She heard that voice almost every day for the past couple of years; heard it laugh at her jokes, heard it mock people they didn’t like, heard it ask her if she were okay, heard it shaky in-between crying hiccups as she called her in the middle of another panic attack.

She’d been dreaming of that voice for several months now, and every time she woke up, she wished she didn’t, because in the dreams, she was still there. Still alive.

“River?! River, I’m scared! What’s going on?!” came from outside the window again, and River’s heart, frozen up until now, just about burst out of her chest.

“ River. ” She blinked and looked back at her barely-invited guest. Liana was studying her with cautious eyes, as if trying to read her mind. “River, whatever it is you’re hearing right now, it’s not real. It is not real ,” she repeated, slowly.

“I…”

“River!” And just like that, it broke her. Because it’s been months, and it was so sudden and so fucking unfair and she’d been slowly falling apart ever since she got that call - a fucking phone call, can you believe that? A phone call one morning to find out your best friend, basically your little sister is dead, and—

“I’m sorry,” was all River could mutter as she sprang to her feet and bulldozed past Liana to the window. Mouse's wounded yipp barely registered in her brain. “I just need to see – I’m sorry, I just need to see her, see if it’s her, I’m sor—”

Once again, Liana proved that women with slight frames could be incredibly strong in a surprising, agile way. She tackled River just as she was about to get a glimpse outside the window, and they tumbled to the floor right under the sill.

“Look at me. River, look at me.” Even in her half-dazed half-shocked state she could hear the desperation in Liana’s voice loud and clear. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you lost someone so important, but you have to believe me – it’s not them out there. They are in a much better place.”

“ River! ”

There were three things River remembered before sudden darkness: Liana’s wild, scared eyes, Mouse’s growls, and sharp pain in the back of her head. chapters 2, 3, 4 are already on patreon!