#i wish id given this the attention it deserved

[clovenhoofedjester]

jellicle lineups; part 2/4

MOREEEE !!! MOREEEE !!!

rumpleteazer | 💰 🍹 🃏

PIGTAILS RUMP! PASTEL RUMP. blond rump. that is all. i really love that design. so i use it. the face markings are also meant to look like a stereotypical robber mask. i realized she looks a little fox-like while drawing her, which i didnt mind ! its fun !

her clothing design was already laid out for her so i left it virtually unchanged, asides from the pattern itself. imagine wearing clothes w a print of your best friends hair . that is rumpleteazer

even though 1 of her 3 words are impressionable, i think she is smarter than she lets on. i also think skimbleshanks is her dad. she'd be about 21 in human years

mungojerrie | 💸 🎰 🍾

PIGTAILS JERRIE AS WELL, BITCH ! i saw a jerrie w pigtails after i drew this and i felt so vindicated. i also based his design directly on 2019 mungojerrie because ommgggg transgender calico? trans little calico? i thought he deserved some pearls too. as well as a bell collar! it makes cats sneakier.

his clothing design is left unchanged too, asides from some fluff. he is also wearing a print of his best friends hair . smile 😃

hes just a funny fella. he totally doesnt have a history or anything. hed be 21 in human years

coricopat | 🍷 🔮 ♟

coricopat is pretty close to their replica design—the biggest difference being that the red in their design is warmer/purpler. that and the silver collar! i also had no idea what i was doing with her fit, so expect it to change in the upcoming art i do of him. i just wanted something gothy and flowy

hes also based on thalia, the muse of comedy. to keep the greek mythology theme going, and because i thought it was funny, and because (2x) i like... The Gimmick

i swear to god this cat knows things we dont. hed be like 22 in human years

tantomile | 🎭 🍩 🗝

tantomile is also close to his replica design. she has a gold collar. like i said w/ coricopat, the outfit is subject to change

as she was based on melpomene, the muse of tragedy, i decided to sacrifice identical makeup for the white mark on their muzzle being downturned like the frown of the tragedy mask :] giggle. smile

listen to all advice tantomile gives you. shed be also like 22 in human years

george | 🥏 🧋 🛹

i just had to give this (technical) swing some love. bless this happy background cat and his little :D smile. i decided to give him a simple little fit and made his fur/markings less plain white w some stripes. i think i also based his makeup off a victor costume ??

i think hes pouncival's older brother. hed also be 23 in human years

mr. mistoffelees | 🪄 ☕ 🌬

my silly, my funny. my little guy. i based their general Vibe on his john napier concept art, obc mistoffelees, 1990 paris mistoffelees, 2019 mistoffelees, and like. a fairys kiss of brentoffelees. i wish id have given him a bit of that il sistina style but i already had so many things going on LOL

it was definitely a very fun challenge to balance all of these. i also draw attention to the single white shoe—the cutest detail of timmy scotts misto

i definitely prefer a more visually unnerving, grown misto. and absolutely torn between portraying him as mute or verbal because on one hand... mute misto is so good. on the other hand.... oh my god. timothy scotts voice.jesus christ . i think hed be 23 in human years

the rum tum tugger | 🎤 🍽 🪞

WELCOME TO MY TWISTED WORLD. i really tried to keep tugger as cis guys i really did. but the thrall of a visually transgender tugger was too much to ignore. i already explained a lot of his design choices in my first posted drawing of it but like... blauhh... thigh garter, heart, golden whiskers/lashes. they are there. i also made his makeup a wee more theatrical w/ white on the chin to visually separate him from partridges tugger

i also decided to base his fur more on his obc design. like. terrence mann tugger. platinum blond spotted mane and head fur and such. i think it looks really good

im trying to hit the sweet spot between the goofy/serious/whiny/promiscuous portrayals of the him..... the man contains multitudes, you see. hed also be like 24 in human years and it goes without saying that hes one of deuts sons

AND THATS IT. stay tuned for more !

[soullessjack]

SPN?

1) honestly jody and donna , i know they aren’t entirely canon but both actresses support the idea and that’s good enough for me ^_^

** secondary is jack/harper i LOVE them and we deserved to see more. #letjackfuck2k24

2) rowena and jack!!!! i see their dynamic as an aunt/nephew type thing and I love (almost) every time they’re together (omitting the time jack witch-napped her to bring back Mary). I wish we got to see more of them </3

3) Sam and Amelia. usually i can handle the show’s bad moments as enjoyably bad but season 8 was paint-drying levels of boring. Amelia was a bland nothing-burger of a character and the rest of Sam’s normal guy arc did absolutely nothing for him or the season

4) hmmmmm….. not sure I have one actually 🧐

5) JACK <3 my most special boy in the entire world i love him more than anything ever Even my other special interests and fixations 😭 he’s been deeply important to me for 7 years now and probably will be for the rest of my life!! I self-ship with him and plan on getting several tattoos for him and hopefully I’ll be able to meet Alex again someday :3

6) Lucifer/Nick, hands down. Lucifer stopped being an interesting villain to me around like S7 or so honestly, and every time he got brought back it just felt like such a lazy move from the writers or a painful excuse to keep mark on the payroll

7) something that should’ve happened…very broad question for this show. Destiel should’ve happened, a better finale should’ve happened, some deleted scenes and scripts should’ve happened, Jack being covered in more blood and maybe having a longer lasting ‘villain’ arc should’ve happened …many such cases

8) something that shouldn’t have happened…again, many choices, but to save time I’ll just leave it at Nick’s entire character. besides (see #6) he straight up shouldn’t be alive. Dean shot him in the head with the Colt all the way back in S5 lmao

9) hmmmmm……i think my entire blog is full of rare (if not downright unpopular) opinions, but if I had to choose one that is Extremely rare, I’d go with this one: Dean is one of Jack’s dads. As frustrating as his initial behavior is, he does grow past it, and he puts genuine effort into being a better mentor/father figure to Jack—not only because he does care about them, but also because he literally could not forgive himself for how he acted and wanted to make up for it as much as he could.

obviously they do have a very complicated and rough relationship, but that’s literally every other relationship on this show, and it’s kind of agitating that they aren’t given the same nuance or understanding that the others get—especially when half of the discussions surrounding it can be boiled down to “bad man mean to helpless baby” (which is another thing on its own but ill stop here). I don’t mean this as an excuse or apologia for Dean’s behavior, but when you consider that he’s a severely traumatized person with a relatively small support system and a canon tendency to verbally abuse/emotionally distance himself from people as a coping mechanism (literally what he had a breakdown over in Purgatory) it’s a little easier to understand it.

everyone is quick to talk about how he said “Jack’s not family,” but nobody paid attention to the fact that in the script, he’s mildly horrified at Jack agreeing with him (if you truly meant an insult, wouldn’t you’d want the target to agree?). or that after jack restores the world from chuck’s damage, Dean not only fully expects/wants them to go back to the bunker with them (IE continue living there) but he also literally fantasizes about buying jack a big screen tv and recliners for saving the world. so id love if the fandom ixnayed on the “uncle” shit. ironically the only one of TFW to actually be Jack’s uncle is Cas, biologically

alternatively for a rare opinion: i want jack kline biblically, carnally, horrendously, homosexually, expeditiously, and so on and so forth.

[ravenous-feast-of-love]

ill try to take care of myself, my prince.. since you’ve asked me. but i struggle with self care generally.. so im not sure if it will go so well. i get discouraged.. and i give up. ill try.

if that’s what you’d like from me, your highness.. i can block everyone else out. it would be difficult but.. i could try. as long as i get your love, as long as i get unwavering adoration and attention; i would do almost anything.

im glad that you enjoy talking to me. that makes me happy. i don’t want to be a burden to you. i definitely am my harshest critic.. but that doesn’t mean im wrong. i think im average… im mediocre. i just know how to read music, and i put in the work.. thats it. i am in a choir.. im in my schools highest choirs, and have been in many other groups that i am very grateful to be given the chance to participate in. the idea of you enjoying my voice.. it makes my heart burst. i truly think id cry.. maybe thats a little pathetic.

little mouse 🐁

As long as you try. Try to preserve your heart for those who truly deserve it. I can help you with that if you wish. Do what you can, little mouse!

Why, you needn’t do anything drastic, my dear! Not yet anyway. You can just give me little offerings, or even just talking to me suffices. You have my affections, silly~

Frankly, I love talking to my devotees as it only makes them feel closer to me. And it brings a smile on my face seeing them getting comfortable with me and trusting me, you know? A leader must be one with his people. That isn’t to say I don’t want my proper titles to be neglected.

And you are quite lucky to be literate! Me? I have no musical theory knowledge whatsoever. I couldn’t read off a music sheet if you gave me one. I am lucky you have relative pitch and a rather good singing voice to make up for those…

And it’s okay to be pathetic, sweetheart. Let it out! It makes me happy seeing me devotees unravel~ ♡

From the bottom of my noble heart,

Prince

[v3nusxsky]

Hey not sure if this is how to request but could you maybe do a platonic lesso and student!r based on bohemian rhapsody. Specifically the lyrics ‘mama i dont wanna die. Sometimes wish id never been born at all’ 🙃👍 thank you and i love your writing and ur fics are always comforting x

Why do i get this life?

*Authors note~ feeling slightly angsty here so I thought I'd smash this one out while I'm in that mindset I’m glad you all and my anon here are enjoying my fics I’m enjoying writing them*

Trigger warnings~ hints at depression and anxiety with past trauma

Prompt~ see ask^^^

Music, art and writing holds a power unlike no other. The ability to touch a soul with mer words or pictures, and to wield that power is a gift like no other. For you it was music, the lyrics often held a deeper meaning for you loved trying to puzzle it together. The lyrics from an old classic stuck with you the most, "mama I don't wanna die sometimes wish I'd never been born at all" could often be misinterpreted as depression or suicidal thoughts. But truly that couldn't be further from the truth. You related to these lyrics in a way you never wanted to.

Your life before the attending the school had been nothing short of horrid. And that was polite for what you went through. Leonora felt protective of you, you knew that from the moment she stopped you from sparring with Hester the moment you got a tiny burn compared to students she'd allowed come to mer inches of passing out from pain. The feeling of safety you felt with her was like nothing you'd ever experienced before so you found yourself opening up more and more to her.

You showed her your book that contained pages and pages of lyrics that you would look into and the ideas of hidden meanings would be neatly annotated in colour coordinated as well. You allowed her ask any questions that she may have. And she picked the very specific lines that just happened to be your favourite ones. With a small sigh you knew you'd should explain just why those lyrics had page after page dedicated to it.

The lyrics were truly about not being able to be yourself. And if you could've been yourself then what would your life had been? Would you have been happier then? What if the life you lived had just been one horrible bad dream? For you life had been cruel and that was just a fact. It started in your early years, parents who had accidentally conceived you and when you were born no longer wanted you. Perhaps you weren't enough, or maybe you just happened to be the worst thing to ever happen to them. Whatever the reason, it made growing up in such an environment the normal for you. Love was not something in your parents home or even in your life.

Lesso was no stranger to feeling unloved and truly she wished that was where all the abuse ended for you but that would be too easy. At the ripe age of 10 was the first time you were assaulted, not only were you in emotional and mental pain but now you had physical pain to join it. True pain can come in many forms but for someone who knows no different it just feels normal.

Since arriving at the school, you had been exposed to feelings and actions that were most unusual and unexpected. It made things all the more confusing and harder to accept. And you always came straight to Lesso, she would comfort and reassure you offering you the love and attention you truly deserved. Single handedly and unknowingly this women was healing your inner child.

Today was a bad day for you, plagued with memories of the past, and you had found yourself seeking the comfort of the Dean. Comfort she was more than happy to provide you with. Sometimes you would sit in silence, other times she would whisper words of love and care even offering some advice here and there. Less commonly you would rant away about anything bothering you. Today you decided to rant and she listened to everything you said so intently it made you feel seen and heard.

"Nora, why do I get given this life? What if I had a life where I was able to be me and happy? Would I feel love and be able to accept it more easily? You care for me and I truly do not understand why. Nora why is it so hard to be truly me?" You sobbed at the admission. Truly you just wanted to be you and for everyone to be okay with it. To be loved as who you are not who they wanted you to be. To be wanted and desired yet life never seemed to offer you that until you met her. It was platonic, that much was obvious, the love and care she gave very much like a mothers love. Yet she wasn't your mother, unfortunately so. Most people saw her to be unkind and uncaring but here and now in her arms as you sobbed all you saw was a woman who understood just how it feels to be used and uncared for. Someone who would protect her students from the same types of pain.

She held you while you sobbed reassuring you that you were enough as you, you were worthy of love and care and life had been unusually cruel to you but she has you now. You were safe with her and you always would be. No more harm would come to you without going through her. When joining the school it was hard to think you were terrified of this woman when deep down she held such a sweet loving heart, just one that had been battered, bruised and broken too many times. Just like yours. With Leonora's help, maybe you could learn to love yourself. The true you that lay buried deep behind your walls and scars.

Word count~ 1006

[snifekinner]

💕🌹🔮💛🏆

💕 gonna go turkey and greece on this one! love them as individual characters, love the histories of both countries and feel it could lend itself really well to interesting character studies, and love their rivalry! there's that 'who broke the coffee machine' comic about the ottoman empire and that's exactly how i imagine it. also generally daddy sadik saddled with a bunch of kids whose dearest wishes in life is simply to make each other bleed.

🌹oh man if they were real russia would have me weak at the knees, i love big big large hairy men. however the studio deen art actually gives me the opposite of a boner.

🔮 this is so petty but id retcon luxembourgs hair. he is a PRETTY BOY he's not going to half cover his face up!!! that's the moneymaker!!! why is he otherwise so elegant and princely but then has the same emo hairdo i had age 13???

💛 ever since that one strip i want luxembourg to take on bulgaria as his little pygmalion project. i want lil cute lux bossing bul around taking him for clothes fittings and haircuts and telling him to stop slouching while bul is kind of impressed and kind of terrified with lux's willpower.

🏆 luxembourg!!! he really doesn't get much attention even though he's been in quite a few strips now (i collect blue-purple themed characters can you tell). luxembourg is such an interesting country and given its backstory there's a lot of angst potential but also a lot of fun like, the amount of wine they put away?? the money??? the tax evasion?? lux deserves to be a scheming underhanded charming menace who is just as bad as ned but hides it better by being sweet and pretty. i also like to make him text like a 16yr old girl because it's funny.

[tsumugismaster]

my face lit up when i saw that you had posted. truly this has made my day.. i really needed some time with you today, especially since the days been so weird. :(

i love penguins. they don’t smell great.. but they’re so silly, and really really cute. there’s a part of the zoo where you can pet goats, it’s one of the best parts! you can even feed the little baby goats.. so awesome. geeeeezzz im not that adorable.. you don’t gotta flatter me.. ><

im so glad i can make you happy.. im seriously getting butterflies in my stomach. i want to make you happy.. i want to see you smile. i think im gonna die harder from happiness if you keep talking to me this way.. i don’t know how to handle it. i feel like im going crazy. id love to be yours.. all yours. rrhrhrndn im talking too much….

oh my gosh, id love matching pink outfits. we would look so good.. especially you. id just stare at you, im sure. oh my gosh, id want short or medium sharp nails as well! we are so alike.. i agree. id love to scratch my persons back as a desperate attempt to grab onto them.. or have someone leave marks on me.

i want cuddles…. i want kisses… going crazy. and yes. absolutely. i think if i was given the attention i so desperately need.. id probably just cry. cry a lot. then just do whatever my person asks me to do. since they rewarded me so well.. i hope that i can convince you that i do deserve it.

yeah.. i was a very meek kid. i was energetic, but even as a kid i was a doormat. ughhhh i wish i was a different kind of kid now.. /silly. oh my gosh, enemies to lovers… my favorite trope.

I don’t have high standards, trust me. if it looks good and tastes good, im fine. with technique and stuff.. i dont really care. as long as its good. to be fed by hand.. oh I would be a menace. lick the frosting off of your fingers.. eat right out of your hand and get it all over my face. do my best to make you excited.. or nervous.. or whatever i can do, really.

im so glad i get to talk to you.. truly. the fact that i get so much attention from you makes me so happy. part of me wants to reveal myself just so we can talk more.. hm. anyways, i was wondering.. is there anything that intrigues you about me? anything you want to know?

-🐞

Aww? Really? You warm my heart. You really care about me don’t you?

bro little baby goats have my heart cause they’re literally so fricken cute. I fed one at another zoo and ohmygod, my heart was racing cause it felt so wholesome. can you lick my hands just like them and cover it with your saliva? But I want toooo!! Let me make you happy and smile.. it would look so adorable to see you blush.

Aha! You’re just giving me butterflies now, you really mean that? You want to be all mine? You realize the sacrifices you would have to make? Devote your time, energy, attention only to me, and naturally I’ll do the exact same for you! Though we’ve been talking for very recent and it’s not enough time for me to say anything.. you did pique my interest and be an absolute parasite in my brain. A really important and adorable parasite. giggles and starts biting my pillows while thinking what we would do together.. Yknow I should keep talking like that to get you even closer to me..

Mm? Do you wish to stare at my body while I wear my cute adorable pink clothes? Admire it and note every flaw in it? I wonder how you’d react to me in very tight clothes, pink ones of course. Please start scratching my arm if I don’t give you enough attention, or I could stab my nails inside you when you don’t listen to me. Either one sounds so fucking good. Mm though I have a lot of bruises on my body cause of my childhood, most of them healed except the ones on my back. Honestly now I think about it, I’d probably accidentally cut you without noticing since I would just be clinging to you everywhere

Mm? You’re doing pretty well at proving me. You deserve all the kisses, all the cuddles, every ounce of attention you crave—and more. I’ll drown you in it until your tears run dry and you’re left with nothing but pure, obedient adoration for me. Your devotion is the sweetest reward I could ever ask for, and I’ll make sure you’re reminded of it every second of your existence. Let me hold you tight while you cry.. kiss you and whisper sweet words to you, cover you in my lipstick like a permanent stain. Of course if you do successfully convince me!

Don’t think like that.. that kid made you what you are today. You wouldn’t be such an amazing person if you didn’t go through all that. Enemies to lovers except it’s us in elementary and I’m spreading rumors about you, but then I realize something about you.. that makes me fall in love! Mm I’ll work on the plot a bit more.

Aren’t you a dirty little pig.. if you want to play that game then I’ll just shove the food in your face without you realizing, then hold your face aggressively so I can lick it alll off. Your entire face covered in my saliva.. then we could take a shower together just to cleanse you off. Mm I’d just kiss you with cake all over my mouth though.

I love talking to you too!! From the bottom of my heart. You’re free to reveal yourself, it’ll make it easier if you have other social media I can talk to you on. Aah are you a masochist or sadist? Do you know your yandere mbti or enneagram? Helps me to have a better understanding on what type of person you are.. also do you have discord? It’s easier if we were to talk there. Mm you intrigued me a lot already, your personality is one I like a lot, to your kindness and your willingness to be a doll.. I love it. You make my heart flutter.

Apologies if this took a while, and it’s pretty short. I’m really tired and I have a lot of work to do.. please have a good day my dear ladybug!

[cielospeaks]

wholesomeness meme

i get annoyed by how bad i think some series i enjoy are but i dont like those moments that are trash and dont think they deserve the attention so instead have my most good vibes ey moments from things i could think of rn lol

dont talk to me i cant this is the actual best: this is stuff im just. keyboard smashes, shuts down, etc etc.

the losh scene in ouas: this short had no right to be as awesome as it was. this scene was so well and fun-ly animated im losing it

nwh saving the villains: moments of movies that live rent free in my head i appreciate this so much.

losh updates in florida: let me in let me in!!!!!

screaming incoherently: i love this a lot. awesome af.

the other witw/losh cameos in ouas: beautiful. wonderful. keep on doin what youre doin

nwh in general: heavy wepons guy voice i love this movie

schubby festival (+ sendai live): loid events are few and far between but every time i have a reason to scream abt my favorite lab experiment composers i will be

its so wholesome im gonna mclose it: im not even spiteful this is the best

guifei wanting to play a trio w the boys: so far the only character to have voice lines w them and not act like a creep. looks pointedly. anyways a good person and i appreciate her. pls come home

caro making lotr memes: caro deserves better. its also cute the two lute buddies are next to each other lol

senpai in ouas: he had a small role but its adorable. honestly this would be higher? idk. maybe this is just ouas in general bc there were a lot of genuinely wholesome moments (there were some bad ones but eh im not here for that lol)

the ending of k h 3: let -clap emoji- these -clap emoji- kids -clap emoji- eat -clap emoji- ice cream -clap emoji-

i am physically upset we dont get more shit like this in the series: ok the rage starts to show. im a little spiteful or more than before but this is still good af

cyrano being sexy and charly being wholesome: this was by far one of the best white days, probably on par with the like. gang roleplay with izou. cyrano is by far the best design the game has had in years

poke mon s v having such a banger main plot: compared to the previous one which just wasnt for me s v just hit me hard. i am not immune to silly sandwich lizard bike or wholesome slow burn friendship story. the only reason i think its lower is bc there were some aspects of the dlc that really turned me off, and i feel like souered a really good, pretty much perfect original story. also given that principal clavell is my favorite character since sub mas that really says something : )

beli voice lines in the museum and q pot: these are only lower bc im more angry at why we cant get this sort of good content. caro's thing just fricking punched me in the gut with the memes, but bel is cute af in these and i like him just being a nuisance and weirdo : )

seithr king dom hearts ing that shit: this is why youre very high tier, i love that you stood up for what you believed in and went against the main characters and their flawed beliefs in order to save people you cared abt (aka. alternate timeline versions of yourself). thats the good shit thats what im here for!!

lunar new year events in i dv: gosh i love these. the older men characters are your friends, and theres more focus on a variety of characters that isnt all negative like in the main canon. more of this pls.

hans being freed for the ending of the short: idk. i feel like the people in this short had more heart than most of the people who worked specifically for his movie/that crowd, which is why the usual abuse scene was a haha funny star wars joke and he got free at the end. also folklore bros i want to believe -prayer hands-

this tickles me a little: honestly this series is already so good or hasnt let me down yet so im happy and very touched but not like. foaming at the mouth like some of the others.

t f 2 resurgance by voice actors: i appreciate this so much yall are so wholesome. wish i lived closer id love to play meme songs for you sometime

tw st having good writing and letting the boys be silly boys: i love how the guys share brain cells and are like the embodiment of that vine with the shirtless guys jumping about the speaker. thats why i love them and why i got into the series

gin is alive: good for him!!! im so glad he isnt dead!!!! this was really nice but i feel like ive not been following as long as the hardcore fans but im still so happy, i was worried abt him. good hes ok. pls thrive my boi.

aladar in ouas: my friend!!!! this tickled me so much. thank u ppl who made this for being actually cool.

cameos in the void plot: i thought this was really sweet! very lore much yes! so far im enjoying this story and am trying to be hopeful. idk the more recent plot stuff (like idk. 10ish years back to now?) hasnt hit as hard as the stuff when i was like 10 yrs old but ill be hopeful :)

[silverghost1001]

It hurts so much, I dont know why I can never do anything right. Especially when I try to. I only hurt wveryone and cause fights and make everything wrong and im sorry i know im not supposed to be alive, i should've died but idk how or why im still here. Maybe I should've just given in back in 2019. Maybe they'd have been better like that. Without me to annoy and make more bills that they'd need to pay. Maybe if I stopped eating and slowly used less and less things it'll make them happier? If i made myself invisible they wouldn't be able to be mad at. If i died then i wouldn't be a problem anymore and it hurts because im rrying my best i promise i am but its never enough how can i ever be enoghj? I want to make them happy but im so useless i cant even do basic stuff im too useless to even keep myself alive and even more useless to just kill myself already and get rid of their problme because if i hadnt been born everyone wouldve been happier and lived better and i wouldnt be there to make expenses and make people upset and do everything wrong because even my name i manage to get wrong and im so rieed i dont know what to do anymore and the only thing i deserve is pain and bad things but im so selfish that i still crave to be able to relay on somwone to be able to tell them my fears and woeries and then hug then when my heart feels heavy and my lungs refuse to breathe and everythings too much and i cant cry i just want to die but its Selfish because people depend on me and itd just prove how fucking useless i am because id be letting them down just cuz my family is always angry at me and everyone says my family doesn't hate me but if they dont, then im so fucking scared of the moment i take a wrong step and they hate me because this is horrible and im constantly scared of everything and i cant even losten to voice messages because I get scared that it'll be just them screaming at me for something while on good days i can baeely pay enough attention to pass my classes and i only manage to make friends because thwy probably pity me and i probably wouldnt make a single difference if i just vanished and maybe thats what i should do. Maybe i should just run away and die far away, maybe by the time they found my body everyone would've forgotten and moved on. I mean, people have already done that while im still alive. My mom simply left and pretends i never exosted, tells everyone i hate my brother even when I'd kill myself if it meant him being okay and happy. Im not religious, and i certainly dont believe on fairy tales, but all my wishes and prayers are that the 2 people that still matter to me, will be fine and happy. Even if ut costs my own happiness. Wven if it costs my own life. I would rather die in miswry and alone rhen know that i could've made them okay and prefered to keep this shitty existence going. They matter. They are important. Im just a fucking accident that should've died years ago and everyone probably regrets saving from each and every single i almost died during these 17 years. Maybe its not too late... Who am i kidding? I couldnt simply go and diaturb the school's calendar. There's group projects that depend on me and I've already done too many wrong things for me to just do more as if it'd be okay. Yhey dont deserve that stress, they already deal with so much. But me? I deserve every single bit of pain and anger that is inflicted upon me. I deserve to be hated and screamed at. I deserve every single horrible thing that may happen to me because im just a swlfish souless useless piece of trash and i should die already because im good for nothing other than taking up space and using up resources that could've been used for something better and more important. And evne if i wrote for the rest of my life i wouldnt be able to get everything out and im just so tired on so many ways.

Im sorry. Im truly very sorry. Im going to sleep now.

It'll be fine.

[rosiefemme]

theres something so nefarious abt the way the film industry pits female empowerment as being based only our sexual prowess. case in point: the new zendaya movie. the first shot of the trailer is her playing a sport, which i was thrilled to see, bc we have so little media praising women for doing the things men get praised for constantly. but, of course, 10 seconds in, she gets injured and the actual plot of the movie is her sexual “power” over the two male protagonists.

instantly, all my interest was lost. i want to see zendaya play a professional athlete, not some fantasy vixen for the studio execs to jack off to. yes, sex can be empowering. but making every fucking storyline abt how a woman uses her sexuality as her main point of leverage over her male counterparts isnt as “feminist” as ppl want it to be. thats not the goal of these movies. the goal is to make money off of zendaya’s body, which they could do w an ounce of respect by giving her character(s) any means of non-sexual drive.

and id be remiss if i didnt bring up the hypersexualization of black women in media, bc this is a perfect example of how they strip a beloved black actor down (physically and metaphorically) to sell to us as an archetype, although most (if not all) of us have no means of being in her position. this is NOT to critique her talent. she does the best she can w what shes given and i feel for her at every turn.

zendaya (and the countless artists who fall into her demographic) are far too capable to be constantly watered down to how much sexual satisfaction they give men. framing it as “this is what SHE wants, SHE’S in control of it!” only diverts the attention from the fact that it is predominantly male writers, executives, directors, and marketers who make these projects possible. the character is their wet dream, and just bc she’s written to be “in on it” doesnt mean its anything more than just that.

this has been bugging me for a while, and when i saw that trailer i was just disheartened all over again. she deserves better. we deserve better. i wish we could see zendaya play sports with a group of dynamic women instead of this soft porn shit they sell to us constantly.

[chaosnojutsu]

What he’s doing is a direct violation of the United Nations’ Universal Declaration of Human Rights.

[ID in alt text]

If you’ll direct your attention to Article 5 and refer to the headline about Abbott, someone please correct me if I’m wrong, but I think most would agree that requiring employees to perform manual labor in temperatures above 100° F without providing them adequate means of hydration constitutes “cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment.” Furthermore, it might be a stretch but one could say that since water is necessary to life, Abbott’s actions also violate Article 3.

And you can argue that “they should bring their own water” if you want. I’m not out there on the construction sites every day, so I can’t imagine what it’s like or make up what rules/policies are in place concerning the matter. But as someone who also lives in Texas and experiences these temperatures and their effects on a day to day basis, while spending most of my miserable time indoors with the air conditioning on, working around the house but definitely not performing construction, and has chugged more water in the past month than I have in the past five years combined (and I wish that was an exaggeration)… I’d venture to say that these workers already are bringing their own water. But there’s no way to refill or replace water consumed. They’re probably finishing it off in the first half hour of work and then suffering the rest of the day. Or maybe they’re rationing it so they can make it through the day relatively hydrated. I honestly can’t tell you which one sounds more horrifying, but I can tell you beyond a shadow of a doubt that those things are happening.

(Side anecdote: Texas has a University Interscholastic League of which most, if not all, school districts are a part of. UIL is taken incredibly seriously across the state, including enforcement of rules at any and every academic/athletic practice or contest to the nth degree. The UIL rules concerning groups that practice outdoors (football, marching band, etc.) require frequent water breaks. It’s odd to me that, given Texas’ abysmal education system and its rapidly worsening state under Abbott’s administration, there are strict mandates regarding the health and safety of student competitors— as there should be, but guess what, UIL is not a government entity and they still managed to implement those rules and put the fear of god into anyone who dares disobey— but not for paid laborers. It’s almost as if Greg Abbott is so bigoted that he doesn’t care about the lives of the predominantly POC construction workers and doesn’t care who knows it.)

So weaponize your horror. Call my governor about it. Call YOUR government about it. Call the ACLU and the UN about it. Because even if I’m wrong and this is somehow technically legal and there’s “nothing we can do about it,” at least we tried something to stand up to our oppressors and make life less miserable for each other.

And don’t you dare say a word about Texans “getting what we deserve for living in a red state” when there are so many marginalized groups who simply cannot leave at this point in time, especially when our attorney general was impeached earlier this month and admitted to blocking millions of votes in the last election cycles so that the GOP would win. Had Ken Paxton not done that, Beto O’Rourke would have ousted Ted Cruz, Trump would not have won Texas, and Abbott would not be emboldened to take action this heinous with so many political adversaries in office, if he were even still in office.

Their goal is cruelly and death to minorities, especially with this sadistic ruling.

[khodorkovskaya]

Hey so, I tell you what, hes an absolute fucking arsehole. And I'm sorry to be so blunt but he really is, you are so so so much better off without him

I know it hurts now (I understand that feeling or I think I do, I was in a similar situation a few years ago with a guy, my ex displayed a lot of those behaviours too) but honestly you are worth so much better

He literally doesnt deserve someone like you at all.

You're certainly not worthless, you definitelydidnt ask you much, if anything I think he was trying to be controlling tbh. He was trying to control how you behaved and thought etc to get what he wanted.

You certainly didnt deserve any of that behaviour at all! You shouldn't ever have to feel that way about someone, especially someone you're in a relationship with. You also shouldn't have to try to please them or prove your worth :(

I'm always here if you want to talk too

My ex would go in the huff with me if I didnt do what he wanted and hen I would just want to cry because I felt like it was all my fault or somthing wrong with me then he would get annoyed that I was angry. Sometimes I would end up doing stuff I didnt wanna do too like sexual things but it still disnt make him happy because I wasnt doing it the way he wanted it done. In the end I felt nothing sexual towards him at all and I felt sick at it

At the end of the relationship, everytime I saw a cure guy or git friendly with someone (when I was single), I would start to feel physically sick at the thought of being in a relationship incase it was like my previous one had been. I started to think it was me that something was wrong with me lmao.

that's why the main goal i have for my next relationship is that i want to be friends with the person first. because strangely enough, i feel like men respect their friends more than their girlfriends. like i girlfriend is a given, who cares what she thinks as long as she's available for sex, right? whereas friends don't give you sex, so you have to actually respect them and make an effort if you want them to stick around.

i remember there were so many times id say sth to my ex and he wouldn't pay attention. and then the next day one of his friends would say the same thing and he'd be like "omg this guy i know is a genius! he told me this thing!". and id be like i literally told you the same thing, but for some reason it doesn't have any value when it comes out of my mouth.

so yeah, i want a guy who im like proper friends friends with and who's not interested in me sexually from the start. because a friend is interested in you personally and a priori respects your boundaries! like imagine asking your friend for a favour. you'd be a bit cautious about it because you don't want things to be awkward and you want to keep your friendship. so you'll be polite, respectful, etc. and if the friend says no, then ouch. you might try asking again, depending on how well you know this person. but hey, their life, their choice, you're not gonna force them to do what you asked. and that's the kind of energy i want from my future boyfriend in the bedroom too! just treat me with the respect you would treat a friend with! if i don't want to suck your dick, don't throw a tantrum about it!

also thank you for your kind words girlie! i really appreciate your support! and i really do wish you the best just like don't worry about guys so much, please! just ignore them and you'll be better off on your own!

[ddejavvu]

i love your work so much!!! a ~dark theme~ id like to request for sacreligious saturday would be professor remus lupin x student reader if thats alright!! keep up the amazing work and congratulations on hitting 1k, you deserve it so much!

today is sacreligious saturday >:)) request some dark fics!

thank you sweetheart! you're adorable, i'm glad you're here with us :D

This takes place consensually between two adults. reader is over 18, in her last year at hogwarts. newts are mentioned for proof, i do not write anything sexual about minors.

"'Mione," You groaned, cheeks burning as you tried escaping the scrutinizing glances your friends were giving to you, "I dunno why he marked you down. If you're so bothered by it, why don't you just talk to him?"

"I will!" She huffed, "We put the same answers down, either you're wrong or i'm right!"

You watched as she stormed angrily over to Professor Lupin's desk, losing most of her steam at the last few steps and shuffling politely up to speak with him. You heard vague chatter between the two, trying not to focus too long or too hard on the kindly attentive look on Remus's face.

Remus. Only you got to call him that. Only you got to scream that into his cavernous classroom, hands gripping the front of his desk with all your might as your chest was mashed into the wood, thighs shaking as he held you steady, pounding relentlessly into you. Only you got to coo that at him when he brought you some warm tea afterwards, an apologetic smile on his face and a soft kiss pressed to your forehead. Only you got to see it written in softly scripted letters, the paragraphs appearing as a simple note from your mum to anyone who had the audacity to peek at your mail, but as a heart-twisting love letter to you, and only you.

Unfortunately, your daydreaming had attracted the attention of your peers, and you felt Hermione elbow you on her way back to her seat.

"You there?"

You looked up startled, blinking dazedly up at her, "Oh! Yeah, I'm just really tired. I was up super late last night, had a nightmare or something, I dunno, just couldn't sleep."

She stared suspiciously at you for a moment, but ultimately settled without asking any further questions. You felt your leg begin bouncing anxiously, and you averted your gaze to the whomping willow on the school grounds, watching through the windows as it thrashed about in the strong winds.

You managed to avoid further questioning until the end of class, only looking up when Hermione nudged you once more.

"Hey, didn't you hear me?"

You shook your head hazily, standing as you watched the rest of the class file out one by one, hastily packing your bag.

"I said the professor wanted to see you, he said my answer was wrong so he needs to adjust your score too." There was a soft pout on her face at the knowledge that she'd been docked a point instead of given one, but you were sure she was comforted by the fact that you were getting marked down too.

"Oh," You fought back a smile at the idea of alone time with Remus, "Okay. I'll meet you in the hall for lunch, then?"

"Y/N," She stared at you concernedly, eyebrows furrowed, "He only has to adjust your score. It'll take ten seconds, I'll just wait for you here."

"No!" You blurted, the sound prominent in the now silent classroom, and felt Remus's eyes boring into you, "Um, I've got some questions for him about yesterday's lesson, and I know it'll be on the newts, so I'll be here a while. You go on, get us some good seats for lunch, and save me a roll!"

She finally accepted your proposal, nodding and wishing you well with your impromptu study session. You rushed excitedly to the front of the classroom as soon as she was out the door, watching Remus shut the windows with a soft flick of his wand as a soft smile twisted upon his lips.

You reached him quickly, feet pattering against the stone floors and eliciting a soft 'oof' from him as you slam into him, your arms winding around his torso and your head resting on his chest.

"'Missed you Rem," you mumbled, breathing in his comforting scent, "Couldn't stop thinking about you in class."

"I know," Remus chuckled, hands lifting you into his lap as he sat back in his chair, "Clumsy girl, you are, a stuttering mess. Y'gonna give us away, sweet thing."

You shook your head earnestly at him, "No! No, I'd never," Your heart sunk at the premise of Remus being fired because of you, and never being able to see him again, "We'd be separated."

"Y'right, angel face," Remus spoke lowly, "Y'gotta be careful. Can y'keep your mouth shut f'me?"

You grinned lazily, turning in his lap to press a kiss to his jaw. He smiled softly at your actions, eyes glancing down at your lips that had grown into a lovesick grin, "But before you do, precious, why don'tcha open it 'n we can have some fun before your next class?"

[beann-e]

I have a head cannon that bakugou would not be sweet to who he liked or dated and instead deny it and hate on them even more.

The reason being because he doesn’t really understand feelings so, when he’s talking badly about you he just assumes it’s normal and a bit funny at the lies he’s spitting that his just continuously friends are eating up.

he’s been talking bad about people for years so , who cares if your his s/o your no acceptation all people are equal in his mind. Now lemme explain please fall in line and hold a buddys hand kids we’re going on a trip inside my brain

It wasn’t easy getting the spiky haired male to ask you out honestly if someone asked you , which they’d never dare since they’d never know per bakugous request him saying it’s not their business , how you two got together you would shrug your shoulders and walk off.

It wasn’t that it was a boring day or a simple question that you supplied the answer for. It was that it was unusual.

You’d been at quirk practice after school in the gym like you’d usually do only this time bakugou made his way over to you.

You’d been seeing him more often when you were in the gym and you weren’t sure why until he explained that he was interested in your workout routine saying you two could have a contest to see who’s was more grueling

It seemed like fun so like any competitive person you agreed. Only for him to tap out on day two your laughs swirling around the gym as he fought so hard to say he only lost because he just didn’t like how the air would hit his ass crack anytime he did your little girly squats you’d wrote down for him.

You couldn’t say you weren’t both confused and happy when he let the air calm down before he spoke “ i’m kind of conflicted “ his eyes coming up to look at yours from the floor “ could you maybe help me“

“ of course what’s up “

“ i’m at a standstill “

“ more like a sit still “ you joked eyes peering down at his straight face “ yeah ok let’s imagine that didn’t happen —continue “

“ uh yeah anyways — i’m at a standstill because honestly I like your shit workout “ he shook his head to the floor “ but I also like you so I find myself thinking if I couldn’t get through your workout even though I enjoyed it so much could I “

his voice rasped shakily “ could I get through a relationship with you even though I like you even more “

truthfully you’d wish you’d said no because right now you wanted nothing more than to just be friends with the male sitting across the room from you.

It’s not that you didn’t like him of course you did he was hot , smart, and felt strongly about his goals but, he was an asshole.

Not in the aspect of hes just mean and rude but he was an all around prick as he laughed with his friends from across the room.

Their voices only getting louder as you sat alone a few seats away from them trying to complete some work on your desk you’d just been given “ dude gotta admit class 1-A’s got some hot chicks “

“ yeah honestly minas top three if we’re being truthful “

“mina dude come on have you seen jirou “

“ don’t even get me started “ denkis voice came out in a soft groan “ god I would— “

“ yeah yeah all that jazz but “ seros voice came out soft. His hand coming up to point at the seat as you sat in with your head down eyes furrowed in anger at the math on your paper that wasn’t syncing up with your brain right now

“ y/n “ his fist tightened as he groaned “ y/n could get it on all accounts — the car “

“ you don’t have a car “ denkis voice came out as sero continued

“ the school bathroom “

“ but which one ? because one of you would have to go in the wrong sex’s unless its a handicap or family stal-“

“the fucking dorms “

“ y/n ? “ kirishima asked quickly “ y/n l/n ? “

“ fuck yeah “

“ hmm “ kirishima studied you before shaking his head “ honestly kinda hot never really paid attention to that stuff before though “

“ what the fuck how can’t you “

“ uh i’m more so a personality guy “

“ so by personality would you fuck em ‘ “

“ not to be vulgar but of course “ his answer taking no time “ y’know how fun they’d be in a relationship though not just with sex ? imagine cuddles—fuck —what about cuddle monster y/n maybe ? god that’d be so hot “

denki getting restless as he held his thoughts in from the other males. His mind spazzing before finally getting to speak “ i’d fuck her too “ he yelled everyone’s eyes going sharp on the boy before he coughed “ id rock it too — we’re talking about getting mullets “

“ oh boys that’d be kinda hot “ you said laughing sarcastically sero turning to you smiling softly “ oh yeah on who in particular “

“ mm totally blondie over there “

“ the fuck ? “ his eyes shot away from denkis and moved to yours anger pouring through his gaze making you jerk back a little in surprise “ the hell you mean i’d look hot “

your eyebrows creased “ well because I — you do you would “

“ don’t go talking out of your ass you hear me—shit people like you don’t deserve to talk to anyone about looks “ your mouth went dry at his lazer stare.

His lips curling up into a smirk before he shook his head “ these assholes are talking about fucking you yknow “ he whispered to you “ you gonna let em ? you gonna let em right? because that’s the only attention you’d ever get right “

“ bakubro hold up chill out “

“ yeah bakubro chill out “ you said your gaze wavering from the hard one you’d had when you felt the heat radiating off of him no comfort coming from him to you only confusing you more. Had you two been in a secret argument that you knew nothing about

“ whatever “ he leaned back in his chair as the class went back to what they were doing your hands gripping the pencil when the class got even louder but you only searching for your boyfriends voice easily drowning out the others

“ i’d never fuck “ your heart broke at the deep voice youd identified

“ dude seriously come on with the lies —fucking beautiful “

“ correctomundo my friend their absolutely stunning “

his laugh ripping through their claims hand jerking back to point at you “ you think their beautiful much less hot ? “

“ yeah you don’t ? “ denki spat all of them looking at the boy like he was crazy for enjoying this obviously racy topic right now much less taking the wrong side of the debate

“ I literally just sat here and said I wouldn’t fuck em’ pokémon —so you can guess what that correlates to “

“ hey dude why’re you being sucha a dick —the personality’s top tier even if your stupid enough to think their not at least hot“ kirishima putting the ending words in quotation marks honestly a bit upset with his friend

“ hey watch it your over here defending an extra like your gonna make moves on em “ he laughed “ I advise otherwise “

you let out a sigh thinking he’d finally stopped acting the way he was. Your mind preparing to only give him the silent treatment for today and then tomorrow peppering him with kisses until he laughed and apologized for his words

Heart only being snatched away from your body when you heard his deep vibrating voice cut through the room “ probably gonna give you a rash from all the shit that’s on their mouth all the time “

it’s just lipgloss.

Lipgloss bakugou bought you packs of earlier this week after he swore he loved the taste and scent.

moving to wipe at it gently with the sleeve of your outfit him still going causing tears to start building up in your eyes “ bet the bitch doesn’t even shower —had em’ over for a project last night had to wash my sheets and blanket —took hours last night “

“ oh “ denki let out “ I was a bit confused when I saw you at the laundry room at 3 in the morning.

Tears blurring your vision as you thought about his earlier words when he’d given you your favorite sweater of his after saying he’d washed it for you because he knew you wouldn’t do it yourself because in his words ‘ you would never wash it without his help because you were a creep and didn’t want to erase his smell or some shit ‘

“ yeah —smelled so bad im telling you stay away you don’t wanna ask em’ out “

you moved to grab your phone as he kept talking you typing out a message as best as you could before hitting send. His hand moving off the desk and going in his pants pocket to pull his phone out keeping it hidden under the table eyes trailing over the screen

Firefighter >3

baby are we arguing

if your mad at me please just tell me don’t just talk shit about me in front of your friends

him locking his phone and placing it on his desk before you typed out one more message him letting out a sigh as he grabbed for it again

firefighter >3

if you keep going we’re over

“ but imagine whoever bags them apart from bakugou at least since we all know he’s all anti hot y/n “

“ they’d be so lucky “

“ yeah right “ he spoke lowly almost trying to hide his voice from you eyes glued to his phone “ wouldn’t dare “

“ wouldnt dare what bakugou “

“ oh wouldnt dare be —-be lucky “ he locked his phone again “ feel bad for the person dating them all the shit they gotta go through put up with , claims they make through message and not with real words, being too much of a pussy to speak up for themselves“

he shook his head softly eyes twitching “ you wouldn’t put up with that —you couldn’t put up with that your not built for it you gotta have tough skin y’know like me “

he licked his lips moving to sit up straighter when hearing his phone vibrate “ don’t uh “

firefighter >3

one more bakugou

one more bakugou katsuki and were over

his eyes darting over to yours before his eyebrows furrowed and body shook in anxiousness he couldn’t figure out what to do.

He was an asshole you knew this so why the fuck were you being such a crybaby now? did he pick the wrong person to date he thought you were strong

He genuinely just wanted to keep these creeps away from what’s his by scaring them off he wasn’t doing anything wrong? well at least in his eyes

He moved to talk again trying his best to string together a nice sentence “ just don’t uh ask —ask em’ out —-their utter dog shit when it comes to relationships leave it to someone who can handle that y’know “

he relaxed into his chair at his victory when he watched you throw your phone to the table and fix your skirt and standup. Him sighing out when you picked up your stuff to leave “ thank all might “ he whispered head shooting to lean back against his desk chair and look up at the sky blood running cold when his phone vibrated against the table

firefighter >3

all your shits gonna be outside my dorm door. So you might want to come collect it before I have half and half lighting campfires tonight

y’know since i’m such a shit person —gotta hope your bestie deku can give me some after school lessons on personalities. He’s so sweet I bet he’ll fix me right up

screw you katsuki see you in hell

“ the —the fuck what did —the hell did I do wrong “ he screamed when he saw you slam the classroom door after flicking him off

his friends eyes moving from the door to bakugous phone that he’d thrown on the table.

Todorokis eyes going wide when he read his stupid nickname given to him by the steamy male “ I —I uh“ he coughed “ I think i’m gonna go help y/n since their now single—don’t want em’ getting hurt with amateur fire starters again when i’m right here “

his stone face peered down at the red faced boy “ I mean that is ok with you bakugou seeing as though you two were most likely in a relationship by the messages before today “

“ you asshole did you go through me and my s/o’s messages “

“ judging by the series of recent text I don’t believe that’s the case for you two anymore “ he reached to grab his backpack saying a formal goodbye before he spoke “ I feel like i’m needed by a very —very perfectly intelligent unshitty person right now “

seros voice coming out softly as he let bakugous phone fall to the table disappointment in his eyes “ look uh —dude you didn’t have to mess your relationship up just to go against us ? “ he winced at the claim“ honestly you could’ve stayed quiet the whole time —it’s not like we agreed with you anyways “

bakugou leaned back in his chair anger swirling in his stomach as he felt his body sweat at the new heat spreading throughout his whole body.

How the hell did he mess up where the hell did he mess up he explained to you he wasn’t gonna treat you any differently than any other extra here and that went for basic conversations too

Maybe he went a bit far with the dont date em ‘ that was probably it you didn’t like how he said don’t date you because he was the only one who could handle you right ?

He shook his head a bit confused you just wanted him to say that you could handle yourself and didn’t need him right ?

So , why the hell did he feel like he’d done something wrong he wasn’t stupid but he just wasn’t well versed in feelings. He already didn’t know how to handle his own so how was he expected to handle another persons.

To him his words were normal he talked about all people like this hell, he bullied deku for 3 years going as far as to make a special nickname for him

that wasn’t even the worse he could’ve done and you knew that so why was he in trouble and worrying about Icy hot taking his place

He was honestly confused?

Could words really be that hurtful?

could his words really be that hurtful ?

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Wishing you a happy new year, Raven! Can I request fluffy headcanons for Vil, Malleus, Riddle, Sebek, and Silver taking their fem! s/o out on a museum (art or history) date please? Thank you and please stay safe! ~🍁leaf anon

“Art is something I have come to admire over the years. Favored artists and styles come and go as easily as the changing of the seasons. It is fascinating to see the gargoyles that come from every decade...”

Curiouser and Curiouser...

It’s easy to spot Malleus in a crowd thanks to his horns, staggering height, and overwhelming presence. When you arrive at the designated meet-up spot, Malleus gently takes you by the hand and leads you off into a lesser known street with hard to navigate twists, turns, and narrow bends. He tugs you inside a building tucked away in a forgotten crevice of town. Malleus calls it his hidden gem--hard to locate, but precious... a gargoyle museum!

Gargoyles are a pretty niche interest, so the museum’s business is slow. In fact, you and Malleus are the only two there--but that’s fine, it just means you get to enjoy some well-deserved alone time. You can hold onto his arm and lean into him as he shows you around.

From the way Malleus’s eyes glitter, you can tell that not only is he extremely enthusiastic about gargoyles, but that he is very, very familiar with each and every exhibit. Without even looking at the plaques that accompany each gargoyle, he can tell you the year it came from, the artist, and various other fun facts.

Malleus confesses that he has actually named each gargoyle and assigned them their own personalities. He has come here so many times by himself that he decided to make friends of his own in the statues. Gazing at you tenderly, Malleus declares, “... I am fortunate to have finally found a companion to call my own, and to share this happiness with.”

Poor Riddle--he’s so short and wide eyed that the employee at the museum entrance thinks he’s too young to purchase tickets of his own until he shows his student ID! Starting off the date on a mortifying note definitely was not how he had expected things to go, but Riddle intends to make it up to you by demonstrating how knowledgeable he is!

As expected of an honors student, Riddle knows a lot about Magic History! He’ll take your hand in his and help you trace the route that settlers marched in the air, or lean into your ear to whisper about an old folklore. “It cannot be helped,” Riddle insists, a little red-faced himself. “Given the limitations of the museum... Keep quiet and do not touch... this is the most efficient way to teach.”

Even outside of school, Riddle feels a need to enforce the rules! Whenever you let a gasp out or accidentally speak too loudly, he presses a gentle finger to his lips--or yours--as a reminder to keep your voice down.

Another rule of the museum is “no eating or drinking”! That means you and Riddle just need to grab a bite after your museum tour. Luckily, there’s a cute little crepe shop not too far away--and you grab a strawberry one to share, relishing in the taste, each others’ company, and all the indirect kisses that linger.

Vil shows up to the art museum decked out in massive sunglasses, a face mask, and a muffler--and yet he still somehow manages to pull the look off spectacularly. He doesn’t want to be noticed in public (whether by eager fans asking for a signature or a picture, or by members of the media)--that would ruin your date!

Once you’re inside the museum, you can start enjoying the artwork! However, you find your eyes continuously drifting back to Vil between glimpsing works of art--as though Vil were also one himself, and you are not able to take your attention off of him. He catches your gaze several times and sends dazzling smiles your way, which causes you to just... melt.

Unfortunately for you two, your date is interrupted by a stampede of frantic MagiCam followers who swear to the museum staff that THE Vil Schoenheit is somewhere there. So much for the disguise and keeping a low profile. Vil sighs and hastily tugs you behind a large exhibit to hide and wait for the fans to give up.

But... there’s so little wiggle room in your hiding spot that your bodies are pressed up right against one another. You can feel his heart beating--and surely he feels yours as well. A blush starts to rise to your cheeks, and Vil definitely notices. “Ara, are you embarrassed?” He whispers through a smirk, “You’d best not make a single sound, then. Here, allow me to help you.” And there, behind an art exhibit, Vil silences you with a kiss.

Silver is intrigued by the medieval history museum that you’ve selected for your date. He spends much of it ooh-ing and aah-ing at the various swords and suits of armor on display, just like a kid in a candy shop.

Silver nonchalantly points to various weapons mounted on the walls and tells you a story or two about how his father taught him how to utilize each one (”in case you are without your magical pen”). You almost can’t believe half of the grueling tales that leave his mouth, were Silver’s expression not dead serious.

He seems oddly tense at some of the exhibits you come across--specifically, whenever a particular figure in raven and magenta hair appears in paintings or is references in literature. (They look familiar; have you seen them somewhere?) Silver is quick to shoo you away from anything with the mystery man in it, telling you that “I don’t want to accidentally summon him,” whatever that means.

You spend a lot of time in the museum’s souvenir shop, picking out cute matching lockets to wear--one with a shield design, the other with a sword. Silver helps to fasten yours on, and once it’s in place, he jokingly bows to you and says you look just like royalty.

Sebek is shushed multiple times while inside e museum--it seems that even his normal speaking volume is considered to be too loud! In an effort to not disturb the other museum-goers, Sebek vows to keep his mouth shut the entire time and only communicates to you via hand gestures and facial expressions.

During a historical reenactment scene, Sebek is asked by the museum staff to play the part of a knight on the losing side of a war. He plays the role just fine until the actors actually start coming at him! His training as Malleus’s retainer kicks in, and before you know it, Sebek has completely disarmed the entire troupe or actors without breaking a sweat, or uttering a single word.

He visibly puffs up with pride when you look at the section of the museum dedicated to fairy history. Sebek points and shoots you eager looks whenever he comes across an artifact pertaining to the Witch of Thorns. His zealousness is cute, and reminds you of a hyperactive puppy dog!

Though Sebek can’t use his words, you can tell from his body language that he’s enjoying every single moment with you. His grip on your hand holds strong, and the toothy smile and the blush he wears never once fades.

[alkhale]

change the channel (Ko-Fi Request) Kenma Kozume/Camgirl!Omega!Reader

hello! Id love a kenma x reader fic (maybe a/b/o) ?? Also, thank you so so much for writing so many amazing fanfics :) every time I read a new chapter from any of your stories, it makes my day <3 

OFC COURSE YOU CAN!!!! And thank you so much for your support and for your donation! AND THANK YOU!! I know this one is long overdue, but I hope you enjoy!

I’m also killing two birds with this one, it’s substituting for Typetober Day 16: back and forth (using change the channel instead)

title: change the channel

pairing: Kenma Kozume/Omega!Reader

rating: T/very slight M

summary:

Kenma taps his phone again, right back at your picture. He stares at you with wide, piercing eyes, leaning across the table and quickly saying, reverent and eager—

“I want to buy your game from you.”

Today, sitting here beside you in your bag, are fully equipped items to try and protect you from the creepy, deranged, rich stranger you’d been about to meet. Today, you were fully expecting to unleash a fury building up inside of you over an injustice you can’t tackle on your own in your society on some poor, unsuspecting alpha—

Here, sitting in front of you, is a self-claimed internet game streamer, who wants to buy your… special edition… game?

“You want…” you say, slowly, making sure you don’t have this wrong, “...my game?”

He nods.

You open your mouth. It closes. You open it again, raise a finger, and then press your lips together, staring at him.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally. “What?”

link to AO3 for easier reading: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27446191

Omegachion has signed on!

The monitor screen flickers to life. 

An empty room appears. A plush, pink cushioned desk chair is in view. Along the cream, soft colored walls are a series of posters that usual garner less attention. A bookshelf is tucked to the side, complete with a set of potted plants hanging in clean pots—clearly loved. Within the stack of books sits shelves stuffed full with what looks to be discs and an assortment of other items.

The website's main frame appears—SecondGlanceStreaming.com. The design is sleek and black—clean and unassuming. A password is prompted, followed by a series of typed keys and then a click.

On the side of the screen a chatroom appears, coupled with a monitored security system in place established by the website. A cherry icon pops to life. Once the chatroom opens, the entire website flickers with light.

Omegalovers has signed on.

Rockyroadncream has signed on.

Omegasarekings has signed on.

Cumqueen324 has signed on.

Mrknottt has signed on.

Msbyjackalboi23 has signed on.

Openwideandsmile has signed on.

Sunnydayandnight has signed on.

Marshmellowtime has signed on.

Thecoolestalpha has signed on.

Bettagetbeta has signed on.

KingKodzuken has signed on.

Kodzu00 has signed on.

The chatrooms explodes with messages. A series of greetings are quickly issued by long-time fans and watchers of the streams, asking how your day was and how you’re feeling. A few more perverse, slimy messages are mixed in-between, demanding for the crude and obscene. A few others snipe back, telling the users to get their hands out of their pants while a series of other users greet each other instead, talking about the excitement over tonight's stream.

You hang back a bit, one arm crossed under your chest, puffed up with the fleecy soft fabric of your jacket while the other hand holds a jelly drink, sipping it in silence. You watch the chatroom explode, quickly gaining more and more users as others signed on to your stream. You check the time on your phone, sighing before you finish off your drink and toss it into the trash can.

You place the fuzzy bunny mask over your eyes, checking how you look in the mirror. You swipe your mouth with your thumb, applying your lip gloss and then smiling cutely at your reflection.

“Alright,” you say. “The goal tonight is 7,000 cherries… you got this!”

You clap your hands over your face and beam. Showtime.

You slide into the monitor’s view, the webcam flickering to life. The chat comes back with more force, messages spamming into the box and a series of cherries already floating into the screen. You beam, laughing as you wave to your viewers and blow them all kisses. “Hello! Hello everyone! I love to see so many of you are so punctual… Needy omegas like me… we love reliable people, you know?”

You hold back a snicker as the chat increases with your words. People shooting messages back at you as you let out a cute giggle. Tonight’s outfit is nothing but a cotton candy pink fleece zip-up that falls to the top of your thighs, also exposing your bare, smooth collarbones. It’s a special occasion, so you’re going the extra mile.

“How are we all doing tonight?” you ask sweetly, holding your chin up with your hands as you watch the chatroom, skimming over the responses. “Aw, Bettagetbeta, I’m sorry to hear that! I hope things get better for you… do you need a hug?”

Cherry icons pop up over your screen. 50. 30. 10. You smile, opening your arms to the camera. “There! I’ll make all your problems go away, okay?”

You bat your eyes under the mask, showing them your bare wrists and giving them a little rub with your thumbs. “You can scent me if you’d like… would that make you feel better?”

Bettagetbeta has gifted you 30 cherries!

Bigboialpha has gifted you 350 cherries!

“Bigboialpha!” you squeak, covering your mouth with your hands. “That’s too sweet of you! Did you want to scent me that badly?”

Your chatroom shakes from the force of scrambled messages. You smile, shyly running a finger up and down the slightly swollen scent glands of your wrist. You’ve timed this just right—and just as you thought, your viewers notice too, instantly spamming the boxes with more fervent messages, begging to scent you, begging to be with you, wrap you up in their smells—

(God, you make me want to vomit.)

“If you’re extra good,” you say sweetly, “you could… maybe even…”

You tease show off more of your bare shoulder, showing a pink bra strap. You slightly expose the side of your neck, bringing your fingers up dangerously close to your most sensitive scent glands. Cherry icons flash across the screen and you hold back an excited grin, feet tapping anxiously underneath your desk.

There’s a new flurry of disgusting messages, of big, handsome alphas promising to do all kinds of things to you if you’d let them. You roll your eyes under your mask, holding back curling your lip in disgust as they prattle on about how they’d take care of you, make you feel so, so good and—

“All right, all right, that’s enough teasing, right?” you say. “Everyone, thank you so much for signing on again tonight! If you’re new to my streams, welcome! We’re so happy to have you. I’m lucky to have you. It’s a special night tonight, you know why?”

Gonna come for us on screen?

Face reveal! Face reveal!

Omegachion i would do anything for u

Pls let me touch u

Take off ur jacket

Stfu and let her talk u horn dogs

Fking disgusting dont ruin the stream

Open ur legs, baby girl

“Because!” you say, throwing your arms into the air. You spin once in your chair, showing off the room and stopping right in front of the screen again. “I just got it in the mail today…”

You bring up the sleek red box that’d been waiting to the side of your desk. You beam, showing it off to your viewers. “Tadah! Do you know what this is? It’s a gift from our generous website hosts—a gift for reaching the Gold Status on streaming! Everyone, thank you so much! I couldn’t have done this without you!”

The chatroom pops with congratulations. There’s some demanding comments, ordering for a consolation prize. You skim through them all, smiling a bit at the paragraphs of kind words and thanks. They’re the viewers you wish you could treat with a little more care, give them something a little more for all they do.

“Want to see what the gift was?” you ask. You pop open the lid and show off the gift—a dark red, leather collar coupled with a golden dog tag. It’s a stylish thing, slim fitted and clearly of great quality, there’s a thickened edge to the leather, coupled with a lock and key.

It’s an omega collar.

You smile through your teeth. The stench of the perfume from the box makes you want to wretch, but you hold it for the camera as your viewers beg you to put it on. “Oh, I don’t know… should I?”

You play with it, showing it off to them against the column of your neck. They’re feverish and desperate. 

“I don’t deserve something this nice,” you say, shaking your head.

Tease

Don’t cover up that beautiful neck

Dont blueball us

I only want to see u in my collar

“That’s right,” you say innocently. “I don’t want to cover up what belongs to you guys…” you show off your neck to them again, touching with your fingertips your own bonding gland, unmarked and bare. The chatroom is almost unrecognizable, going off into a feeding frenzy.

You turn back to the screen, smiling.

(You’re like babies.)

You drop the box out of view of the camera into your trashcan, kicking it under the table with more force than necessary. You ought to burn the fucking thing but leather probably doesn’t burn well. 

I can’t believe I’m already at 4,000 cherries. You feel excitement replace the disgust, toes curling against your hardwood floor. You got this, amp it up a little bit.

“Since I couldn’t have made it this far without all of you,” you say, touching a hand to your chest and playing with your zipper. “I wanted to do something special—not just this stream! But a nice little event, how does that sound?”

You click your mouse, opening up a new box and icon for your viewers. “Can everyone see the royalty program alright? Yeah? Perfect! If you look, you’ll see the cute little banner we had set up and everything.”

You hold up your phone, smiling beside it. “For these set prices, I’ll be doing a series of special events, just for all of you guys for all the support you’ve given me!”

You point.

“50 cherries and you get a sweet text with a picture from me,” you say. “Each picture will be different, and none of them alike! Keep it between us though, okay? Hehe, I mean it! For 100 cherries, I’ll do a one minute call and for 300 cherries, a three minute call, just with you! For 500, we’ll do a private web-chat session and finally, the big one…”

You smile, “For 1,500 cherries, I’ll be doing a special, in-person meet and greet! How does that sound?”

The reactions are instantaneous.

Cherries already start popping up all over your screen, users filling out the roles and eagerly thanking you for everything while others spit at the prices. You ignore those comments, secretly marking certain users to be blocked. You know the last one is outrageous, how could it not be? Did they think you’d want to meet with any of them? You’d discussed this with several other streamers and they’d all done similar things—this deterred creeps and kept you safe. Usually no one ended up doing the meet and greet. It was too expensive. 

It was foolproof.

I can’t wait to hear your voice

Will it be nudes

I want nudes

Thank you so much for doing this!

“I should be the one thanking you guys!” you squeal. Your eyes dart to the corner of your screen, watching the cherries roll in. Your heartbeat accelerates and you do the quick math in your head. “Oh my goodness! Sitwhereveryoulike, thank you so much for the Cherries! And you too, theprettiestalpha! Thank you!”

As it should be. You grin at the screen, prattling on with sweet words and thanks. You teasingly unzip a little more of your jacket, greedily watching the cherries pop-up all over the screen, trying to make conversation where you can and—

A single chat bubble pops up in the corner. You almost miss the question, but you’re almost certain your eyes don’t betray you. If you hadn’t seen the title so many times, you would’ve blown right past it.

(But you’re a true fan, down to your core, you could never miss a mention of—)

Is your username based on Water Emblem?

“Hello, Kodzu00!” you say quickly, trying to stifle your surprise. “Yes, it is! You must be new to the streams.”

You gesture behind you, smiling shyly at the poster of Varth on the back of your wall. “I’m actually a bit of a fan! I know the series is old and everyone’s excited for the new reboots, but I grew up with the old one.”

Ah, stop right there, don’t keep talking about it. You’re going to lose viewers! Your fingers fly back to your zipper, teasingly dragging it down another inch. You could talk about Water Emblem for hours, but you can’t—this is a stream after all. “Bigboialpha! I guess we’ll be having that private webchat after all… mhm! I’m looking forward to it—huh? What I’ll be wearing? Well…”

You cutely run your fingers up and down the column of your neck, bringing their attention back to your scent glands. “Would you… pick for me?”

You almost gag at the comment suggestions. You watch more cherries roll in—shit, another 500? I might make my goal after all! No, you would make your goal. You have to. The sooner you rake in the dough from these streams, the sooner you could—

For the meet and greet, would it be in person?

You blink, startled by the question. You quickly glance back to the username. Kudzu00 again? “Uh, yes! Yes, it would be~ I’d pick a nice location for us and we’d meet. Wouldn’t that be nice everyone?”

For how long?

Who even is this lol

Damn big bucks

Show us the tits already

Pls sit on my face

Your outfit is so cute today!

You swallow nervously. Calm down. What are you even freaking out for? No one in their right mind was ever going to drop that much money to meet with some stranger from the internet—no one.

“Fifteen minutes,” you say cheerfully, keeping one eye on the chat. Have I seen this user before? “There’s a lot we could do—ah, I mean talk about in fifteen minutes, right?”

Kodzu00 is typing…

The chat bubble disappears. You eye it for a few more seconds before shrugging your shoulders. Shake it off. You needed to keep this celebration stream going. You slyly bring your bare knees up and watch the chat go a little more wild, quick questions being shot about whether or not you’re wearing anything under that jacket. You keep the conversations going, sweetly asking the users about what they’d like to do, what kind of pictures and if—

A bright icon flashes on your screen. You glance over.

Kodzu00 has gifted you 3,000 cherries!

You freeze.

On your monitor the chat continues to fire off. A few people notice the notification. You blink, once, twice, before taking a second glance at the numbers.

3,000.

3,000 cherries?

3,000….

The calculation is quick in your head. You’re terribly good with money, sadly. The final statement minus the small deduction for processing appears in your mind’s eye and you balk.

HOLY FUCK.

Lol i think u broke her

God damn

Congratulations, Omegachion!

“K-K-Kodzu00!” you say, head spinning. “Thank you so much! Oh—oh my goodness! Thank you so much for your donation!” What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck— “I can’t believe you’d be so generous! Thank you so much! I’m so excited to meet you! Our first meet and greet!”

WHAT THE FUCK?

You quickly try to hold your composure, continuing with the stream. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Finish the show! You laugh, trying not to look at the history of the notification and focusing on your show instead. You thank every piece of good sense inside you for using a mask, hiding the sweat rolling down your face as you teasingly stand up for your audience, bending down a bit.

“Now, how about we end the night with a little… cuddle, hmm?” you say shakily, unzipping your jacket the rest of the way to show off the lacy, soft pink color of your bra. The chat bubbles pop up by the dozens, but you never see even a lick of Kodzu00 again. What the hell? “C’mon, you know how badly I wish you were here to scent me… wrap me up in that smell of yours…”

(Give them what they all want.)

What feels like hours finally passes in a span of minutes and you quickly say goodbye to your watchers, blowing them a kiss and zipping your jacket backup as you finally sign off. You sit there, staring at the screen of your loading page, dumbfounded.

Limply, your finger finds its way to your mouse. You give it a click.

The final total for your earnings tonight appears in a tacky, almost shady colored box. You stare at it in silence.

9,750 Cherries.

Nine…. Nine thousand…

Almost 1,000,000 yen? 

“Yes!” you screech, grabbing your head with your hands as you fly up from your chair. You kick the stupid, plush pink thing aside. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

This is insane! You almost want to cry in disbelief. This is—this is it! This is what I needed! I’m so close! I’m so close! You know the other streams won’t rake in nearly as much, but this is the final push you needed—if you kept up this kind of participation for another few months, your fees would be nothing! You’d be able to even afford a little extra and get something nice, replace your bathtub and treat yourself to an expensive dinner and all thanks to this stupid job and—

The grand, generous donation of Kodzu00—

You freeze. Your pure, unrestrained elation plummets. Reality clocks you sideways in the face and you slap yourself for being so dumb—how could I even forget? Your eyes dart back to the screen and you pull up the donation history, staring in dark silence at the simple, blaring donation of cherries, already transferred to your account and not even pending and—

Your joy is quickly replaced with something much more dire. You gape at the amount. The award title beside it appears. You stare.

And stare.

A thirty minute meet and greet.

You’d be meeting in person with this person for at least half and hour and—

What the hell?

You power off your screens, flying to your room and kicking the streaming room door shut behind you. You lunge for your bed, scrambling for your laptop, covered in Water Emblem stickers. You pop it open, quickly pulling up your admin account for the streaming sight and accessing your private passwords. You pull up the user history for all your past streams, typing in the username Kodzu00—

Nothing?

You stare at the blank history. The only entry is tonight’s stream. The very first time this user has ever showed up.

Alarm bells start ringing in your head. You pull up your emergency tab, a self-made list of all your red-flag boxes to check in cases like this for your safety. You click on Kodzu00’s account, searching through their profile.

MADE THIS MORNING? You gape in disbelief, staring at the entirely blank profile. It’s even void of an icon for a profile pic. The account was literally made today, just for this stream, and this god damn stranger just gifted you basically 300,000 yen—

This is insane! All your alarm bells nearly fall off their stands. You search for any kind of information, scrambling and double-checking your banned users lists for any potential matches. Was it some creep trying to meet you from before? A stalker? Were they under a different name and made the separate account just to do this to you so they wouldn’t get caught? What’s their deal?

(What’s your selling point for this whole thing?)

You pause, fingers halting over your keyboard.

You’ve had rich donations before. Users with too much time and money on their hands—users you’re gladly willing to take from in the pursuit of a better life for yourself. Your crowd ranges anyway; from nervous, shy little dorks to kind, quiet people looking for company to disgusting, wretched lechers and stupid alphas who like nothing more than little, docile omegas to rub their garbage scent over—

You stare at Kodzu00’s user profile, feeling something bitter and dark and ugly bubble up in the pits of your stomach.

Any person, male or female, who’d be willing to drop that much money to meet with a streamer like you, notorious for what you do, for what you market—can’t be a good person by any means.

They only want one thing.

You grind your teeth, knowing you’ve got no choice but to reap what you sowed. This was the path to quick cash you chose, so you can’t back down now. You’ll just have to do everything in your power to make sure you remain successful.

You close your laptop screen, ripping your stupid mask off your face and tossing it to the side.

You weren’t backing down.

--- (change the channel) ----

You started streaming in high school.

The middle of your last year, to be exact.

It started off simple enough, to be honest. Nothing eventful, nothing worth writing biographies or harrowing documentaries off of. It was another story amidst the thousands in Tokyo’s Metropolitan streets.

By all legal health records and means, you are an omega.

(What does that mean?)

Within Tokyo’s urban and suburban streets, it means a collection of different ideals and social norms. It means nothing to plenty, it means everything to others—to your youthful eyes growing up, it’d just meant you were a little different from some of your other peers, but not isolated, no, never isolated—there were other omegas, after all, despite the smaller population.

You get along with people fine. You make friends fine, have a few crushes, get average enough grades and have a particular fondness for social media—you just live your life on top of having to deal with certain physiological functions others around you may not experience the same.

You think by all means until your last year of high school, that it really does mean nothing. Society is so modern now, people don’t even blink, right? There’s none of those second gender stereotypes or outrageous cult worships—you’re just another person trying to live their life to the fullest.

“A doctor? Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

You smiled at your teacher in the faculty office. See? Normal—

You stopped.

“See, that’s a great dream,” the teacher said, pointing to your paper. He tapped it, scratching his rough stubble. “But it’s not very realistic with your current standing, you know?”

“You mean my grades? I can work extra hard. They’ve been more than above passing, and what really matters is the entrance exams and testing—”

“Not just that,” he said. He pulled up your student file. He gave you a second look, up and down, and he seemed to find pity in your hopefully confused expression. “Listen, (L/n), here’s the thing—a doctor… is a pretty important position, you know? Very important.”

You nodded like you didn’t already know that. Like you hadn’t been spending the last years of your educational life aspiring toward that goal, that dream.

“They need to be physically… available,” your teacher said. “They have to work outrageous shift hours, they have to work hard on top of that, and then they have to take special medication to regulate their pheromones if they need to, and then the schooling on top of all that is hard work.”

You waited for your teacher to explain why any of those things was supposed to get in the way of your one and only dream of saving lives.

“I’ll make this easy for you to understand, kid,” you teacher said. He taps his nametag, pointing to his little alpha symbol.

“Omegas just don’t become doctors.”

Your dainty, prettily crafted world of normalcy and mundane content shattered around you in one violent, screeching halt.

You smiled at your teacher, nails digging painfully into your thighs.

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s just not a typical job preference,” your teacher said. “Look, you’re not the only one, I promise. There are a few omega doctors, sure, we need them anyway to make things easier or make sense of stuff alpha based doctors or betas might not understand, but the demand isn’t high and the placement is extremely competitive. Trust me, kid. I know.”

You kind of wanted to spit at your teacher that no, this pot-bellied, alpha gym teacher couldn’t possibly know more than you do about trying to break into the medical industry as an omega. But the thing is—what are the statistics? You hardly see any. Every website you’d researched thus far has always been welcoming, nowhere on their platforms or pamphlets saying anything about omegas being doctors or not and—

You froze.

“Everyone is welcome!” the videos all said. “Everyone is encouraged to try!”

“This is the real truth,” your teacher said. “They’ll all tell you you can do it because they’re not allowed to discriminate or turn anyone away. They’ll let you do whatever you want, but when it really comes down to the acceptances or not? You’ll just get turned away and you’ll have wasted all that time for nothing.

“Omegas aren’t considered suitable candidates for doctors,” your teacher said. “That market tends to go to betas, believe it or not. A nice little mediator.”

Your teacher tossed your career planning forms onto a stack of dozens. You stared at it, smiling continuously with your fingers digging harder into your thighs. He sighed, waving a hand.

“You should shoot for a hospital receptionist,” your teacher said. “It’s the next best thing, right? Or you could teach biology at a school instead. You might even be able to get by as a school nurse—”

“I’m going to apply to medical school.”

Your teacher stopped, looking at you.

You smiled back at him.

(Being an omega was supposed to stop you?)

What a load of shit.

“I don’t really care about anything else,” you said. “I’ve wanted to become a doctor my whole life. If people say I can’t do it because of something they can’t even see, then I’m still going to do it. They can’t stop me.”

Your teacher stared at you for a few minutes. He leaned back in his chair, considering his next words before he finally said—

“You got the money?”

You stopped.

Your family is pitifully lower middle class. Your parents make enough to pay the bills, afford a vacation every now and then, and just get by fair enough without being too stressed—but small issues, like your own medical costs for heat suppressants or a flat tire can easily set your family back several paychecks.

No, you don’t have money for medical school. You’d already known that looking at all the pamphlets. But there were scholarships and stipends and loans—

“If you want to waste your time with this pipe dream, it’s not my job to stop you,” he said, pointing to your career form. “It’s not really ethical either, so don’t come back and file any lawsuits against me. But your medical schools don’t offer many scholarships, and the ones they do aren’t going to go to that one, average ranking omega they’d rather not even have to worry about.”

Your teacher shrugged.

“Go ahead and be a doctor, kid, but you’re going to need money to do it.”

(This is the reality. People are not equal. Being an omega means—)

Means what?

-- ---- (change the channel) ----

You remember laying in your bed that night, scrolling mindlessly through random social media outlets. You’d spent the last several hours searching extensively for any and all scholarships you might even remotely be able to apply for, but none of them seemed willing to help an omega into their waiting hospital wings—your best bet was going to be taking out a loan. Several. That’s on top of cram school costs, textbooks, entrance fees and whether or not I can pass the exam—

No, you would. You had too. You weren’t about to let some stupid, invisible consensus a group of people somewhere or another had decided on stop you.

“Thank you again for the generous donations! You guys are too good to me!”

You’d paused, staring at your bright screen. One of the streamers you followed from time to time—he was an omega, cute and docile and in all honesty, probably the picture perfect cookie cutter definition of one. He always posted great tips on fashion or about cute cafes he enjoyed, and always seemed to be proud of the fact that he was an omega despite how cringingly he played into the stereotypes—

You glanced at his caption, freezing in disbelief.

Designer bags littered his floor. He showed off his pretty watch, batting his lashes at the camera, talking about how the donations from last night’s stream helped him live a good, cushiony life, making him feel like he was being taken care of even without an alpha by his side.

You’d stalked his account almost religiously for the next few weeks, watching his streams, watching the way he… flaunted his nature as an omega. Your parents had always told you you were fine the way you were, but being an omega had never been something to be proud of—you’d just preferred to act like a beta more than anything else. What was the point? To some extent, your teacher was right, there were no benefits to being an omega except—

“Thank you again for all your donations!”

You pulled up your laptop, searching extensively for every little obscure article you could find on the nature of streaming services. You’d never taken social media outlets that seriously, always looked at influencers and vloggers with a grain of salt—you were aspiring to be a full-time heart surgeon after all, but if there was actually something...reasonable behind the way all these people would act, proudly showing off the fact that they were omegas in exchange for something monetary…

(Did people enjoy this?)

Yeah you can make money from it, lol.

You stared at the internet thread, blinking in disbelief.

One user amongst thousands in the thread had responded to your question.

Ppl always keep saying that omegas are this and that. Society likes to paint a pretty picture of what we call equality. Ads and those videos u watch in school and stuff, they all tell u you can be whatever u want to be if u try, but that’s not rlly the truth. The only thing they were honest about was that you’d have to work hard for what you want in life.

You scrolled down.

You have to do the research on ur own and find respectable sites. I can give u recommendations, but u have to kind of get yourself prepared for what you’re signing up for too. Everyone likes to go on television and talk about how all three genders are the same, but we’re not. It’s not even just whether ur female or male anymore, everyone always finds something to pick at, don’t they?

U might get hate for it but whatever, those people who sit on a nicer chair than you and don’t pay your bills don’t get to criticize you for what you want to do and how u do it.

They always tell us we can’t do things because we’re omegas. That we have to be a certain way because we’re omegas and we’re only good for one thing.

So just give them what they want.

And suck them dry.

You remember clearly, that night, pulling up the user’s account and shooting them the message that would change your life.

What sites do you recommend for beginners?

Youcanruletheworld is typing…

----- (change the channel) -----

You triple check all your items, rearranging them on your bed in front of you.

Your outfit is cute, matching your streamer personality but remaining modest enough to keep you protected from unwanted attention. You’ll be wearing a face mask on top of it, just for the extra mile too. You’d already reached out to this Kodzu00 and sent them the notification for where to meet and when, and what you’d look like so they’d be able to find you. Wisely, as always, you picked a neutral location—an extremely popular cafe two hours away from your house just to be safe.

Safety alarm—check. Pepper spray, check. Pheromone repellent, check. Emergency contact button, check. Location synced devices and emergency heat suppressant pills on top of—

You stare at the last item. It comes special with the standard emergency omega safety kit—you almost spit at the name—it’s a quick, easy attachable lock-on collar to protect your bonding glands in the case of an unruly and disgusting attack.

You want to call it ridiculous.

(Behind your eyes you see the comments scrolling over the glowing screen. You see the leering words and the lecherous promises and the disgusting sentences that rattle your brain and make you stand a minute longer in the shower, fingernails digging into your skin—)

You don’t say anything, zipping the bag closed and taking all your items with you.

---- (change the channel) -----

Thirty minutes, it’s just thirty minutes, you can do this. You aggressively slurp on your straw, furiously dogging the cafe patrons with your eyes, keeping them narrowed and peeled for anyone who ought to fit the bill over what you were expecting to meet today. Thirty minutes.

The black iced coffee with an added two shots isn’t doing anything to calm your nerves, but it’s doing everything you need to keep yourself pumped and ready to go at a moment’s notice. The cafe is busy, just as always, with people swarming left and right, in and out—this creep won’t be able to do any of their normal creep tendencies in a place like this.

You bite your straw, tapping your feet under the table.

Alright, Kodzu00, do your worst. I’m leaving here after the thirty and I’m taking the cash with me—

“Excuse me,” you stop, mouth hovering and open over your near chewed through straw, “are you… uh… Omegachion?”

Hearing your streamer username in real life makes you both want to gag and sigh in happiness. The username was arguably the only way for you to feel remotely sane logging into the streaming service every time for your scheduled program because Water Emblem got you through anything, including all the cram sessions to get into medical school.

Your eyes swing rapidly to your right, moving your head so fast you take your straw with you. 

Ice coffee drips onto the table.

The young man standing in front of you is… is, truthfully, not what you expected. Okay, sure, weirdos on the internet come in all shapes and sizes, but to your own bias, you’ve crafted a bit of a face for the specific types of users who flood your streams. He narrowly passes even an inch of those ideas, with the slightly messy hair, the baggy clothes that look like all he does is stay in front of his computer all day and the dark lines under his eyes, but other than that—

He’s a lean young man, from what you can barely tell, underneath the baggy black sweatshirts and the sleek black joggers, lined in white with a logo you don’t recognize. There’s a dark cap on top of his head as well, and he’s sporting a simple black face mask, just like you—the most color the damn guy has is the bleached blonde tips still growing out past his roots, spilling a bit past his shoulders while the rest is gathered back into a bun.

In an instant you quickly size him up—the guy’s probably only a few inches taller than you and he can’t be that much older or younger, somewhere probably around your age.

You pluck out your straw. He squints faintly at you, holding his phone, glancing back at his screen and then back to you and shifting, albeit uncertainly. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but here right now.

“You’re,” you start, “uh, you’re Kodzu00?”

“Yes,” he says. “That’s… me.”

You stare.

He stares right back.

(His golden eyes are almost like slits, you realize, a bit stunned, they drip gold and heather.)

He has pretty eyes.

“It’s,” he says, awkward, not sounding friendly at all, “...nice to meet you…”

And then reality comes back, this time with a spinning roundhouse right to your face.

This is the guy who just dropped money to come and meet you here today.

This guy.

You stare at him in disbelief.

Kodzu00 stands there in front of you, looking as though he wished he could melt right through the floor and disappear. He slowly starts to make his way into the chair opposite of you, pulling it out and taking a seat, setting his phone down beside him like it’s a lifeline and—

Your eyes bulge at the sight of his watch. You know how much that watch costs.

Your alarm bells start firing off again. For a brief moment, unease colors your scent, lightly flooding the area until you instantly reel it back in. Kodzu00 glances up at you for a second but you keep your face calm and friendly, quickly slipping back into your streamer personality, your best mask and first line of defense against whatever the hell this weirdo wants with you and time is ticking—

Before you can even utter a single word, Kodzu00 pulls down his mask.

(He’s… well, he’s not bad looking either, in a… weird kind of way.)

“Look, I need to clear the air first and get this on the table,” he says it a bit quickly, despite the low, almost uncaring inclination to his tone. You blink at him. The tips of his ears are staining pink beneath the fading streaks of blonde and he continues, “I’m not here for your streams.”

You blink.

You stare at him, dumbfounded and hopelessly confused.

“I’ve never even seen them before until last night,” he says just as quickly, looking embarrassed to even utter those words. “Let’s get that straight, okay? So I’m not… here for… that.”

That.

“That?” you say like a robot.

He looks more and more uncomfortable, but he presses on, whispering quickly over the table, “Yeah. I’m not here for… that. So… you can… uh… just be normal, I guess.”

You stare at Kodzu00, the man who’s just payed off nearly the last of your student loans in debt, who’s only here in front of you today because he got in touch with you through one of those very streams which very much markets that, which is meant to appeal to all the what-nots who just want to see an omega bat her eyelashes and act like an omega, to feel comforted or have their egos stroked and—

“I don’t watch any streams like that,” he adds for good measure. “I don’t. One of my viewers reached out to me because… well… because they watched your streams and noticed something and mentioned it to me, so I wanted to check it out myself.”

Oh my god. You sit there in the middle of the bustling cafe. Am I about to die? This is it, isn’t it. Kodzu00 is actually some kind of crazy internet stalker or person and you’re about to get stabbed right across the cafe table and this will be the end, you’ll never even get to save anyone’s life or help anyone and their bad hearts or do anything beyond your stupid streams and that’s all you’ll be remembered for.

“Kodzu00 is just a name I made for that night,” he says quickly. “Online I run a gaming channel under the user Kodzuken—you can just call me Kenma though. Kenma Kozume.”

“Uh,” you say. “Kucina. You can call me Kucina.��� You are not giving your real name out to this stranger who can potentially threaten your entire standing in your medical career and out you for the unethical nature of how you’ve been procuring money to pay your school fees—

Kenma briefly pauses, eyes flickering up to you. He looks a bit pleased with your choice of alias but quickly glances back to his phone. You feel, strangely, a little… a little happy too.

Wait, wait, wait. No, this guy is a weirdo and don’t forget that he’s a complete stranger online claiming to be a game streamer and—

“The only reason I’m here today is for this,” he says, pulling out his phone. You instantly grow wary, inching back a bit from the table. There’s a bit of excitement finally creeping into his otherwise mundane voice, and it’s giving you the spooks. Kenma taps, quickly navigating his screen before he pulls up one blurred, pixelated image and turns his screen to show it to you.

“Why is this a screenshot of my room?” you say roughly, narrowing your eyes at him. You point to the screen shot of your streaming room and your face caught mid-speech, making you look dumb. “What are you trying to—”

“It’s not that,” he says, sounding a bit stressed out by this whole ordeal. He looks visibly uncomfortable with the image of you, only in your bright pink bra and you raise an eyebrow at him, suspicious as he zooms in and quickly moves the screen to—

“This,” he says, fervent, almost reverent actually, “is what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Carefully, still suspicious, you lean over the table and look closer at his phone screen. You follow his finger, quickly recognizing your bookshelf, your posters, and then right beside Kenma’s fingertip is—

You blink.

You know exactly what he’s pointing to.

You also know exactly what it looks like in perfect detail despite the blurry picture. It’s a large box, big enough to hold against your chest, sleek white and blue, with silver lettering line in a kind of glowing, aqua teal—the cover art for the product had been top of the line, complete with an engraved metal clasp that opened up to reveal an entire, glossy artbook, coupled with a cd of the game’s soundtrack and also—

“Water Emblem’s Special Anniversary Edition?”

“Yes!” he almost shouts. You jump. Kenma quickly gestures to his screen, to your room and your game and points at it with fervor. His eyes are actually shiny, you stare at him, a little in awe. “Do you know what this is?”

“Of course I do!” you say, offended. “I own the game. It’s Water Emblem: Light Dragon! Personally my favorite game in the entire franchise and the game that really got the series into the world market—it’s part of what started its entire cult following. This is the special edition that came out years ago, wow, I can’t believe it’s been so long! I remember waiting in line for it and—”

“That’s exactly it!” Kenma says, throwing his hands up into hair, grabbing it beneath his cap. You blink at him, getting a little excited. “This game—this particular edition re-launched for one night of sales only in the creator’s hometown and here in Tokyo! It came with a companion edition and most people were only able to get one or the other because it was sold on opposite ends of Japan!”

“Yeah!” you say. “I know! I stayed with relatives in the summer and timed it out so I could grab it! They only sold so little copies… that was the best night of my life, I couldn’t believe it, even though the game didn’t seem to do that well at first until later…”

“Because no one respected the greatness of the game back then,” Kenma says bitterly. You nod. “Now everyone knows but the rest of the editions have all either been trashed or are kept by collectors somewhere else, I’ve been searching for years for a copy that was at least still playable, even without the extra goods—”

“But the goods are the best part!” you shout in disbelief. Kenma looks at you like your crazy. “The art book, the soundtrack, the interview with the creator—they all play their part in bringing the game to life!”

“This is what I wanted to discuss with you,” Kenma says seriously, lacing his fingers nervously together and staring you down across the table. You suddenly feel uneasy, unnerved by the piercing, golden gaze.

“You own what might very well be one of the last, in-tact, best kept qualities of this edition in Japan,” Kenma says. “When this edition and its counterpart launched, the second issue, the black one—it came with a playable DLC code that can only be activated when you have its partner code and it unlocks an entirely new, almost never played secret storyline that’s supposed to reveal another part of the story—”

“I heard about that,” you say in disbelief. “But I thought it was just an online rumour because no one ever proved it or could figure out the code…”

“Because no one could figure it out,” Kenma says, getting the loudest you’ve heard him since. You stare at him with wide, round eyes. “But recently because of the work I’ve been doing, I was able to meet with the creator—”

“YOU MET WITH THE CREATOR OF—”

Kenma furiously motions for you to shush. You clasp your hands over your mouth, watching him with round, adoring eyes, sparkling in disbelief. This guy right here in front of you got to meet your hero—the envy and awe collide altogether, rumbling up and—

(Your heart starts to do something a little funny in your chest.)

Who even is this guy?

“He gave me a hint and I was able to find the code in the other edition,” Kenma says, quickly pushing his phone to you to show a picture and you blink, eyes shiny. “Which I currently own because I was able to secure one when it came out in Tokyo. But your edition is the last part I need to unlock the unplayable path.”

This guy… you lean back in your chair, unable to stop the excited tap of your feet. This guy—he loves Water Emblem. He’s crazy for it! I don’t know anyone except people online who like it this much and he’s…

“That’s why,” Kenma coughs suddenly, becoming smaller in his seat. You stare at him with a raised brow. “I needed… to get in touch… with you.”

You blink, remembering the whole reason the two of you were even meeting in the first place.

Your cheeks grow hot, bright red in a flash of rare embarrassment. Kenma’s ears are just as red, but he pretends it’s not even happening, continuing on.

“Why didn’t you just… message me,” you squeak out, feeling more and more mortified that this man has literally paid you thousands just to be here and… it’s not even… a scam. It’s about your favorite thing ever. Water Emblem! “Instead of… my streams…”

“That was the only way I knew how to contact you,” Kenma says, looking a bit defensive. “I told you, I’ve never seen your streams before. One of my viewers told me and you keep everything private, so this felt like my only chance.”

You open your mouth, feeling more and more uncomfortable but Kenma sweeps in, “Keep the money. It… works out better this way anyway.”

You stare at him in confusion.

Kenma taps his phone again, right back at your picture. He stares at you with wide, piercing eyes, leaning across the table and quickly saying, reverent and eager—

“I want to buy your game from you.”

Today, sitting here beside you in your bag, are fully equipped items to try and protect you from the creepy, deranged, rich stranger you’d been about to meet. Today, you were fully expecting to unleash a fury building up inside of you over an injustice you can’t tackle on your own in your society on some poor, unsuspecting alpha—

Here, sitting in front of you, is a self-claimed internet game streamer, who wants to buy your… special edition… game?

“You want…” you say, slowly, making sure you don’t have this wrong, “...my game?”

He nods.

You open your mouth. It closes. You open it again, raise a finger, and then press your lips together, staring at him.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally. “What?”

“This might be my only chance ever to play the game,” Kenma continues, pulling up another tab and clicking away at his phone. He tucks a strand of blonde behind his ear and the action is almost endearing to you until the reality of his words slowly starts to creep into the forefront. “I’ve never found another edition like yours, and it seems like it’s in perfect condition too. I’d be willing to buy it at complete full, current market price—”

“Market price?” you say in disbelief. “How much is my game going for?”

Kenma looks at you in blatant disbelief. You raise a critical brow at him.

Wordlessly he turns his phone back over to you and you glance down—

You almost fall out of your chair. Kenma doesn’t look impressed, hunkering back down and taking his phone as you spin, head swirling at the numbers and figures, math flying around in your head at the sudden realization that all that money could literally be yours, that the game you love so much is worth that much, that all that money, all that money you’ve been trying so desperately to scrape for could just—just fall into your lap—

You could pay off all your loans with that kind of money. You could… you could stop streaming with that kind of money, finally wash your hands of it and get back on track and hardly have to worry as you work toward the job of your dreams and… 

“I want to buy your game.”

Your heart quiets. The fancy dreams stop. You sit there in the chair, head buzzing with the reality of what he’s asking of you.

He wants to buy your game.

Your game.

And you think then, about a moment far away from this one. About a time when the books and papers crowding around you made you feel like drowning, about lonely summers and arguments bouncing off the rooms around you, and a time where there was nothing else but that loading screen and that game to take you away from all of it…

(The game that you’ve kept all these years, loved all these years, because it…)

“I’d be willing to pay whatever works best for you,” Kenma continues, the excitement is low in his quiet voice and his eyes sparkle as he shows you his phone. “I can even pay upfront in cash, have a fund drawn up or—”

“I’m really sorry.”

It’s the first time in a long time you’ve ever felt the need to apologize to anyone. Not when the whole world has been treating you like the sorry sack for so long.

Kenma glances up. His expression is calm, unreadable, but you get the feeling he can see right through you so you stare at the tabletop instead.

“I don’t know…” you start. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sell that game to you.”

(He doesn’t seem like a bad guy.)

Anyone that talks about Water Emblem with as much love in his voice as he does can’t be, not at all by your books. His methods of getting to you here today might’ve been outrageous and roundabout, but you’re not really doing things the normal way either, so who are you to judge?

But that game…

You risk a glance up. You stop, staring in surprise when Kenma doesn’t look the slightest bit outraged or tense or anything. He looks just a bit disappointed, but the only thing you really see is understanding and something like a bit of grudging envy, a warmth in his gaze you don’t think is particularly meant for you but still comes through regardless.

“I was,” Kenma admits, a bit quiet. “Worried that would be the case.”

“Do you want,” you start quickly. Kenma looks at you. “Do you want to, uh, see it, at least? Take a look… see if it’s even in the condition you want?”

(You just… you can’t sell it, but you don’t want this conversation to end. It’s been so long since you’ve talked with anyone about this game, it’s felt so long since you talked to anyone in general and…)

Maybe, just maybe.

(You feel a little desperate.)

“Uh,” Kenma says, awkward. “Is that… fine?”

“Well, sure!” you say, hoping you don’t sound too eager. “Of course it isn’t a problem! I mean, I know we just met, but you seem pretty legit and I can just check you out later—plus, I’m perfectly capable of handling myself, even against an—”

You stop, sniffing the air. Kenma doesn’t look bothered, but he rubs the back of his neck.

And you realize, suddenly, you haven’t smelled a single damn thing because Kenma Kozume is—

A beta.

(Oh.)

---- (change the channel) ----

The entire way back to your apartment, Kodzu00, or as you now know him, Kenma Kozume, complains.

He does it quietly, but he still complains.

“We could just take a taxi,” Kenma says, quiet and unhappy when you start making your way toward the train station. “I can pay for it…”

“It’s easy to remember an address but tough to remember a bunch of stations and stops,” you say, ignoring his offer. Kenma follows, unhappy but he still follows. It’s kind of cute.

He walks with a bit of a hunch, you notice. Like he’s doing everything he can to remain out of everyone’s vision, but he watches, careful and observant because he avoids people before they have the chance to bump into him, glancing this way and that and picking things out with particular ease.

Kenma doesn’t look very confident, but he’s comfortable. You stand there beside him on the train, calmly holding onto the railing while he taps away at his phone beside you, sighing every now and then. He’s different, you realize, very different, from what you’ve become accustomed to when it comes to the kinds of people you let surround you for the sake of money.

You almost want to say it’s because he’s a beta, but you feel that’s a disservice in all its entirety. Maybe Kenma will turn out to be a snob of some kind. The guy’s strangely loaded.

You sneak searches on your phone, paling at the articles about him that come up, about stocks and investments and companies and you realize in seconds, this guy is completely and utterly the real deal.

But despite everything, Kenma still does as you ask. He lets you lead as you navigate the string of trains to get back home, doesn’t ask any questions, only comments on the occasional thing, and the entire affair is two hours, but he doesn’t even blink.

Either he really, really wants this game, you think, or he’s just weird.

Quiet, weird, but fairly quaint, and you’re a little alarmed by how much you… like that.

(You’re a weird guy.)

A rude, burly man makes a pass at you on the last train home, breathing down your neck and letting his greasy fingers try to slide against yours on the same railing handle. Kenma makes a face, eyes narrowed into slits in disgust and he quickly looks at you, blinking at your unbothered, nonchalant expression.

His scent wafts over you, thick and uninviting. Alpha. You rub your nose, inhaling your own familiar scent. Kenma looks more and more uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot, starting to lean your way and scanning for open seats when you calmly turn to the man directly behind you, meeting him dead in the eye.

“Get,” you say calmly, digging your fingernails into his skin, threatening to draw blood—the man stiffens, he pales, surprised, startled by your confrontation— “The fuck away from me before I scream.”

He scurries back, shouldering past people in seconds. A few people shoot him disgusted looks, glancing your way in pity—but you ignore all of them too. They didn’t care seconds ago when they knew what he was doing, if you hadn’t done anything, they wouldn’t have either.

That’s just how it goes.

“Sorry,” you say, even though you probably shouldn’t. You look at Kenma, lips curling a bit. “I was expecting to meet a guy like that today instead of you. I think all that pent up anger and anxiety needed to go somewhere.”

Kenma opens his mouth, closes it, stays quiet for what feels like minutes and then he starts up again.

“You don’t really act the same way you do on your streams, do you?”

“Of course not,” you say. “If I acted like that in real life—no offense to anyone who does though—I’d probably lose my shit.”

Kenma sniffs. He doesn’t say anything after that, and you quaintly let your shoulder brush against his ever other jostle of the train.

(It’s been awhile since you’ve been around anyone. It feels nice.)

---- (change the channel) -----

Kenma balks for a bit at the front door of your apartment, but you quickly usher him inside, kicking your shoes off into the entryway and flying inside. He toes off his own shoes, eyes scanning briefly around the entryway, around your home—it’s neat, he realizes, even if he wasn’t sure what to expect. You keep it clean enough, but there’s bits and pieces where your life slips through, making it feel lived in. You keep plants in the corner, healthy and well but you’ve got a few dishes still sitting in the sink.

He guesses he wasn’t really sure what he was expecting to begin with. 

Kenma pauses for a second, rubbing his nose. He looks uncomfortable, eyes flickering around your apartment and back to you, but you’re already steps ahead of him, too excited to pass a chance like this up.

“It’s in my streaming room,” you say, “come on.”

Kenma follows warily behind you.

You almost kick the door to your room open in your haste, unable to stop the ecstatic beating of your heart as you scramble toward the back. Kenma pauses a minute, sniffing the air again. He glances behind him, back toward where your bedroom is left ajar and then to your streaming room. He looks a bit thoughtful for a moment, but quietly keeps it to himself, slipping inside and lightly closing the door politely after him.

(He’s not one to snoop, but he��s here, it’s not like he can’t look.)

Kenma tries very, very carefully not to consider the fact that he had seen you on that screen only a few nights before, and tries even harder not to remember what you’d been doing and how you’d look. He hyper focuses instead on the stand-out merch that becomes very, very clear to him.

He’s almost amazed your users haven’t said anything more about this—maybe it’s because of your camera angle.

Poster after poster of Water Emblem decorates the entire side of your wall. Kenma finds himself instantly drifting up to it, spotting your shelf in record time. He scans the collection of game titles, eyes growing brighter and brighter as he ghosts a finger over the well-kept discs and the old games…

“You play a lot,” Kenma says, quiet, glancing your way.

“I used to be a bit of a shut-in because I had to study,” you say, squatting down beside your other shelf and moving a few books aside. He finds himself watching the way you tuck your hair behind your ear and smile. “They were great breaks for me and helped keep me company. I’m not as social as people think, so it’s nice.”

Kenma considers your words. He looks at you, trying to reconcile the image he’d had of you from your stream with what he’d been witnessing all day today—how different it all was.

(If he’s honest, he’d been expecting to deal with someone different.)

“Do you do PC games too?” he asks. What are you doing?

“I’m not as familiar with them compared to console games,” you admit. “After exams I might try though. Got any to recommend?”

Kenma does. Plenty. He could go on but he doesn’t even know where to start, turning from your games to try to look at you again and think about how strange this entire meeting is, how different from what he’d been expecting. It reminds him of his meeting with Hinata, sudden and vibrant and impossible to categorize, left—

Pleasantly surprised.

“What happened to your chair?”

“What, the pink one?” you glance over your shoulder, noticing where Kenma’s looking toward your streaming station. “I shove it into the closet when I’m not using it. Sometimes the color hurts my eyes.”

Kenma looks at you like you’re crazy.

“...You keep two chairs?”

“Well, the chair’s mostly for looks anyway,” you say. “Some people like that kind of simple stuff. It’s a nice contrast, you know? Sweet and spicy, I guess? My boss said something like that. My ratings are good so I don’t complain.”

Kenma considers your words. He looks at your station, almost engulfed with stacks and stacks of what he can easily recognize as textbooks. Biology, medical tech, chemistry—all of it nearly crushing the fuzzy bunny mask you’d been wearing on the stream.

Kenma takes it all into his head and he looks again at your small back.

“...Do you even like your job?”

“It’s not my job,” you say. “My job is studying and working at the athletics complex to try to help figure out ways to help people stay in shape, take care of themselves and be better. This is just… part-time.”

You pause, staring at your shelves. It feels weird to be saying this outloud, but it’s nice too. It’s refreshing. You think you can take advantage of it anyway, what if you never even meet this guy again? You hardly know him, he probably doesn’t care.

“And I guess,” you say, a bit quieter. “Sometimes it’s kind of rewarding… sometimes people are nice, you know?”

Kenma says nothing, watching your back. You rub your neck and then finally beam, pulling free the reason for all of this.

You cradle the box in your hands. It’s weighty. You run your fingers over it and stand up, turning proudly to Kenma, beaming from ear to ear and—

You almost jump back in surprise, near squeaking. Your ears almost flash red in embarrassment at how close Kenma is all of a sudden, sneaking up right behind you with shiny, adoring eyes as he stares at the box in your hands, looking at it in awe and disbelief.

“Can I see it?” he asks reverently.

Your heart swells in happiness and you eagerly nod, handing it over to him.

Kenma receives the gift with care. He runs his fingers over it, carefully, as though afraid to even leave a single print behind before he pops the metal engraved latch and opens it up.

You and Kenma sigh together in unison, swooning at the sight.

“It’s amazing,” Kenma says.

“I know.”

“I can’t believe I’m seeing it in person.”

“I know!”

“You took great care of it.”

“I—” you flush at the praise, wilting a bit. “I-uh, thanks…”

“Can I see you play it?” Kenma says suddenly, looking almost desperate. You freeze. He looks up at you, expression completely different from his near lifeless one. His face is vibrant and full of excitement, thrumming just under the surface of his nonchalance. “The loading screen even? I—I have to see what it looks like logged in and—”

“I...actually can’t,” you say quietly, embarrassed. Kenma looks confused.

“I… I sold the console for it,” you say, feeling more and more guilty to finally have to admit one of your biggest regrets. Kenma pauses, expression quieting as he looks at you. You stare at the floor, trying not to look at the computer and web camera sitting in the corner. “I needed to buy some stuff… so I had to sell it in. I still kept a lot of the games, thinking I’d buy another one when I got the chance…”

You ruffle the back of your head, trying to quell the stifling scent of embarrassment that tries to escape you. You rub your wrists. Kenma’s eyes are briefly drawn to the action before he looks at you, still holding your game. You bow your head a little. “Um, if you want though, you can take it to your place and see—it absolutely will still work. I can just, take something to make sure you don’t run off or I can just—”

“Do you want to come over and use mine?”

You pause, looking at Kenma, dumbfounded.

Kenma stares right back at you. You can’t read a single inch of his face.

“We can use my place,” Kenma says, calm, unbothered. Your eyes grow round. “I really… really want to see the game in action… it’ll probably be more fun to see you play it anyway first.”

“Is that,” you start, uncharacteristically shy. “...okay?”

Kenma wordlessly nods.

(Your heart does something a little funny. You just write it off as an exaggeration. You’re such a sad sack.)

“Um!” Kenma looks up. You flush, hating how embarrassed you feel, hating how much of your bravado is missing, but you almost stutter out, “I-It’s (L/n) by the way… (L/n) (Y/n)...”

“... okay,” Kenma says. “It’s nice to meet you, (L/n).”

--- (change the chanel) ---

“You know, Kenma,” Kuroo said once, leaning back on the train ride home as Kenma tapped away at the buttons on his console. “For all you say and stuff, you’re pretty good at putting all the pieces together, aren’t you?”

--- (change the chanel) ---

One month.

Non-stop, several days a week, for hours on end—that’s how long the two of you play the game together.

You nearly miss streams, spend hours at Kenma’s house, laughing when you come to find him half-asleep in his sheets, barely rolling out to come greet you and instead just buzzing you in. You think it’s insane—how quickly this… this thing builds. You think you ought to be dreaming, but you don’t really want it to end.

(You’ve gone too long without anyone to laugh like this with.)

 You pull late-nighters that are terrible for your complexion, eat take-out like you’re cramming for exams all over again, laughing while Kenma quietly watches and scrolling through Water Emblem merchandise and fan bases and—

You spend time with him. With Kenma. You spend hours and days and what feels like endless forever and fun. It’s so sickeningly amazing you almost don’t believe it’s real. Sometimes you two argue, getting into heated spats over calls on how to move your characters, critiquing each other’s moves and then laughing when the other fails, sometimes it’s outright cheers from you while Kenma nods in satisfaction when you clear another mission and proceed forward and—

You haven’t even been alive that long, but compared to everything else, it almost feels like the best moment of your life.

“I did an entire episode on why moving this character is better than the rest,” Kenma mutters one day beside you. “I’m telling you, we need to deploy them. They’re wasted as an adjutant.”

You pause beside Kenma, blinking at his massive screen. You stare at your hands, and then you look at Kenma, blinking again in realization.

And in all this sudden time you’ve spent with him, you realize you’ve never seen one of his streams.

--- (change the chanel) ---

“Uh, hey everyone, thanks for stopping by again.”

You snort. Kenma doesn’t look the slightest bit at ease, his small face-view camera appearing in the corner of your screen as the old stream starts. It’s only of his earliest ones, the one where he replayed Water Emblem for his channel.

“I like this game a lot… it’s the one I always wanted to do a stream for… so I hope you enjoy it too.”

Is that it, dude? You laugh, shaking your head and kicking your legs out as Kenma gets the loading screen started and adjusts his chair. His camera shakes a bit and everything about the video attests to its age and its novelty. It makes you smile. He must’ve come a long way from these videos to the freaking multi-millionaire he was now.

(He worked hard.)

At first the show starts off rather quiet, maybe a bit awkward. Kenma hardly talks, quietly playing through the beginning sequences of the game and only commenting once or twice on the music or graphics. It’s kind of nice, peaceful, just watching someone go through the familiar motions until the real first part of the game starts and then—

“I never get tired of this part.”

You pause at his voice, glancing to the corner of the screen. Kenma’s eyes glow. He smiles, low, small and quiet, and he leans so far forward, almost out of his seat as he starts to play, quietly talking, describing the things he’s doing, the parts of the game he’s in love with and—

You roll over onto your side, watching the stream. Everytime Kenma mutters something under his breath you laugh, when he flubs you grimace, when he succeeds—you cheer, kicking your heels into the air. It’s really like playing the game all over again—even if the comments say he hardly shows any emotion, you can see it.

Kenma Kozume loves this game.

He loves what he does.

The thought makes you pause, staring quietly at the screen.

The dark corner of your room looks a little bigger. The quietness is a little louder. You lay there in your bed, watching Kenma thank everyone for watching with a sigh, giving the game a second glance, like he’s thinking of playing more even though he said he’d stop and—

Your alarm nearly startles you out of bed. You quickly glance over, shooting up in realization.

“My stream,” you murmur, dropping your phone and hurrying to your video room. “Gotta do… my stream…”

Your eyes glance back to your phone. You stare at the dark screen.

“Do you even like what you do?”

You shake your head, closing the door behind you.

--- (change the chanel) ---

“Thanks again everyone for coming! Your favorite omega is going to be lonely without you~”

The screen clicks, turning off.

You sit there in your plush, bright pink chair. Your open jacket hangs on either side of you, revealing your bikini for the beach theme you were going with today. The video room is near silent, save for the soft, quiet hum of your computer running while your monitor blinks, turning to a save screen.

Your game sits in your lap, carefully cradled by your hands. Off to the side is a thorough stack of medical textbooks you still owe money on. You were planning on studying for your test tomorrow after the stream tonight.

You run your fingers over the amazing edges of the collector’s box. You thumb every part of it, retracing the familiar memories, even the small little dent in the corner when you dropped it the first night you got it and almost cried.

You hold it there in your hands. It feels so, so warm, even though you think that shouldn’t really be possible.

There, in the darkness of your video room you sit. Quiet in the near-silence, head lowered, gently running your fingers over it, again and again.

Kenma’s lulling voice is the only thing you hear, playing over his stream, and you shut your eyes, bringing your knees and the box up to your chest. It jabs your ribs, sits uncomfortable, but you don’t really care.

“Do you even like what you do?”

(What I’m doing now, at least… yeah, I do. I really do.)

--- (change the chanel) ---

(L/n) is typing...

Hey, can we talk? 

It’s nothing important, let’s just meet up for dinner if you’re free!

Is that fine?

Kenma is typing...

Yes.

Location sent.

Let’s go here. I’ll make reservations.

Okay! :)

(Y/n) is typing…

(Y/n) stopped typing.

--- (change the chanel) ---

The place Kenma picks is some ridiculously nice looking Japanese Restaurant. It’s dimly lit and elegant and fancier than anything you’re used to, and you’re not really sure why he picks it until he orders for both of you and then the wagyu comes out and you know.

Seeing the steak, knowing you’ll get a good meal—it kind of makes this whole thing a lot easier.

Kenma sits comfortably on the floor right across from you. It’s a small, private room he’s rented out for the both of you. He’s dressed in the usual—baggy sweatshirts and athletic but comfortable joggers, and his hair is pulled back a little more neatly tonight as he pours tea for you and then for himself.

“This smells so good,” you say, mouth watering as you pick up the smooth, fancy wooden chopsticks. “Mind if I start?”

“Go ahead,” Kenma says. He leans back, picking up his spoon to dig into his own soup first. “What did you want to talk about?”

“The game,” you say around a mouthful of wagyu. It melts like butter on your tongue. “I’m going to give it to you.”

Kenma freezes, looking up at you in shock. His spoon clutters back into his bowl.

“What?” Kenma says.

“I’ve thought about it,” you say. “You were right. I don’t even have the console to play it anymore. It kinda just sits, collecting dust. It’s not fair when that game is literally everything.”

Your hands still a bit. You stare at the sizzling hot plate.

“I think you have a lot of fun with your streams,” you say, softer. “I think… I think Water Emblem would be well off in your hands. I think… I think it’s what it deserves, you know?”

Kenma is silent, frozen like a statue in front of you. You continue, lightly tracing a thumb over your other wrist, as though in comfort. Moments like this, you do wish for the chance to scent or be scented by someone again—just something familiar, something warm and nice. Your family is miles away and you just...

“I’ve had too much fun playing it again thanks to you,” you say, warm, full of happiness. Yeah, this is what feels right. “And you never once asked for the money from that night back, even though it should’ve just gone into paying for the game… that’s why I want to just give it to you. You’ve already done too much for me, and it’s more than paid for the game.”

“Hold on,” Kenma says. “I—hold on, one second.” He rushes for his phone, fumbling. You shake your head. “No, hold on—”

“I’ve still got my streams to do,” you say with an awkward laugh. “I can’t spend all my time playing video games again. Once exams come up and then—”

“No,” Kenma tries, looking a bit frustrated. He curses at his phone, “Give me a second to explain before you—”

“I’m doing this,” you say resolutely, standing up from your seat. Kenma balks. “There’s nothing you can do to stop me. Besides, I guess I got to meet you. That’s not so bad. Now stop making this weird and let me just do something cool for once in my life—”

“I want you to do a streaming series with me!”

You stop, staring at Kenma. He holds out his phone, showing the screen to you—but your eyes are on him, round and disbelieving and then—

Your entire face flushes bright red, cherry like a tomato.

“Y-Y-You w-w-w-want to d-d-do a s-stream with me—”

“Not one of yours!” Kenma blurts. You blink. He curses, ruffling his hair roughly before he gestures again with more vigor to his phone, “This—just look at this.”

You glance to Kenma’s phone.

“...you’re doing a new stream series,” you say, eyes widening in awe. “It’s going to be on the secret, never played route for Water Emblem—see! That’s perfect! If you’re going to do that, you need my half of the game and—”

“I want to do it with you.”

You freeze, mouth falling open.

“I’ve been thinking about it since you came over to play,” Kenma says, quietly setting his phone down on the table—he takes on the tone that means business, the calm, lulling one he your hear him use on the phone sometimes to make sure deals are delivered and he gets what he wants. “It’d be a great idea, and it’d be… fun. I’ve been letting you play because I wanted to see if the style would be compatible and I think it’ll be more than fine.”

Kenma taps his phone again.

“Of course, you’d be compensated,” he turns it to you, “we’d split the profits 50/50 from each streaming episode. Considering my normal projected view count and ad revenue, you can expect at least this much.”

You look at the numbers.

Your mouth stays open, knees sinking to the floor.

“If you’re willing,” Kenma says quietly, “to take a break from your streams to do this series with me… I think it would be mutually beneficial.”

Can things really, really work out, just like that?

“Besides,” Kenma says, even quieter. You close your mouth, looking at him in disbelief, in awe, in reverence, and he meets your gaze with his golden one.

“The secret route is meant for dual players,” Kenma says. “Water Emblem is known for being a single player, but what makes it special is it needs two for this route… it… it would be a disservice to the story to do it any other way.”

You can’t help it.

Your scent and pheromones you struggle and try so, so hard to always keep under lock and key explode forth, nearly flooding the entire room. Kenma stiffens, going ramrod straight and grabbing onto the top of his pants as your happiness engulfs the two of you. You’re sure it probably alarms everyone in the hall or anywhere near. Your happiness crashes and lulls and your entire face crumples in disbelief—

“Is it really…” you start, like a whisper, “really okay?”

Kenma shifts in his seat. He pulls at the hood of his sweater, opening his mouth before he quickly closes it. He mutely nods, resolute, and you stand up, lunging across the table to grab his hands. Kenma’s face flushes a bright red, his body stiffening in alarm.

“Kenma!” you say. “Kenma! Kenma, you’re a godsend! A guardian angel! My guardian angel! You don’t understand what this means for me—you don’t know what you’re doing for me—”

“(L/n),” Kenma says, he sounds strained. You pause, looking at him with round eyes. “I’m… excited… but I need you…”

Kenma lets out a slow, ragged breath. “Please… tone it down… just a little…”

You tilt your head in confusion. Your eyes drop down, noticing the sweat beading at the corner of Kenma’s temple, at the hard, rigid look in his hazy, warmly golden eyes and…

A soft scent teases your nose. You pause, blinking in disbelief. No way. You’re crazy, right?

“Um, Kenma,” you say, a little nervous. There’s no way, right? “You’re… you’re a… beta, right?”

Even betas could be sensitive to pheromones. You were being too careless right now, you must’ve just been too much and—

Kenma rigidly shakes his head.

You blink, feeling very, very, very small.

“Alpha,” Kenma exhales, holding his hand to his nose, scrunching in on himself while he peers up blearily at you, eyes swimming with something you’ve never seen once in his gaze before. He sticks his wrist out to you. 

“Uh,” you say, hating how nervous you sound. “C-Can… I?”

Kenma wordlessly holds his hand out to you, keeping it in the air. You tentatively step closer for a moment, sniffing lightly. His smell. 

Kenma’s scent is so quiet, it’s no wonder you… you never noticed. It’s become so familiar, always felt so calming and subtle and soothing, but if you look for it the way an omega would, pheromones in tune and acute—you do catch it, just the faint hint of something sharp, the familiar, light tang of alpha and—

You quickly pull back. You open your mouth, close it, open it again, and then close it.

“I’m so sorry—”

“You’re fine,” Kenma says, quick and quiet. You mutely nod, mortified. Kenma motions for you to relax as he stands, grabbing his wallet. “I’m going to take care of the bill. Get… fresh air. I’ll be back—”

“You should let me—”

“You can get the next one,” Kenma says. Something in his words makes you strangely complied to listen, ridiculously docile, and you blink in surprise when you sink back to your knees and Kenma’s eyes seem a little warm, a little—

(Pleased?)

“I’ll be right back.”

“Okay!” you say jovially. Kenma nods, leaving you. You can’t believe it. This is it—this is—

The start of something great.

You hold your head in your hands, unable to contain your happiness.

Oh my god.

You stop, blinking again in realization.

BUT I’VE BEEN SUCH AN IDIOT, HE’S BEEN A—THIS WHOLE TIME—HOW RUDE MUST I HAVE—

You fall back into the cushion, kicking your feet up in disbelief.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid—I better apologize over and over—”

--- (change the chanel) ---

Kenma quietly steps out of the private room, sliding the door shut behind him.

He stands there, silent, basking in the faint afterglow, of the leaking, intoxicating feel of your happiness wrapping thickly around him, clinging to his skin.

Kenma lifts his hand up to his nose. He sniffs, once.

Your scent floods him.

Kenma’s tongue lightly drags up the inside of his wrist. He closes his eyes, briefly catching it—the soft, sweet taste of you against his lips, on his tongue. Kenma waits there, inhaling softly before his eyes slide open, thin, golden slits.

This would be the start of a fairly interesting partnership.

Omegachion has signed off!

Thanks for watching!

[ghoultramp]

dial up [dabi x hawks]

▷       bnha

↳ pairing: dabi (touya todoroki) x hawks (keigo takami)

↳ content: dom!dabi, sub!hawks, (mild) ddlb, phone sex, masturbation, mutual pining, quirk use

↳ words: 1.4k

⇢ summary: touya’s given keigo a particularly hard day, what could he possibly want at this hour?

also available on ao3

City lights shone dimly around the edges of the curtains casting a gentle glow of yellow on the wall. It was deafeningly quiet at this hour, an hour he frequented quite often.

He was hurting and he was exhausted. His svelte body, covered in cuts and bruises, lay near-motionless in the dark on his unmade bed. His blond hair, dirty from the fight, flopped lifelessly across his face, he didn’t care that it obscured his vision for now.

An intrusion of light made him squint when his phone lit up. The prolonged alert told him that it was a phone call, even before he struggled to reach for it, wincing as his muscles tightened in protest.

His heart ached when he saw the caller ID and lowered his head in defeat. He let it ring silently next to him on the pillow, staring at the contact image.

It stopped.

He expected the caller to immediately try again. No, he told himself, he needed them to call again. He needed to be wanted.

The screen lit up briefly. A text.

╭                                                   ╮

          “Pick up,”

╰                                                   ╯

was all it said.

He barely heaved a sigh before the phone lit up again. He wanted to push his luck. His thumb brushed the red ‘decline’ button.

╭                                                            ╮

       “Don’t make me ask a 3rd time,”

╰                                                            ╯

came the second text. He almost smiled.

This time, when the phone lit up, he accepted the call. He didn’t say anything when he brought the phone up to his ear, only waited with bated breath when he didn’t hear anything for a moment.

“Was it really that bad?” The voice on the other end was low and husky. “C’mon, Hawks.” He chuckled, mocking him.

Keigo felt his battered wings spasm painfully at his chiding. He disguised his grunt of pain by finally responding.

“The pain I’m in tells me yeah, Touya,” he told him, “it was that fucking bad.”

Keigo heard his throaty laugh blow out through his ear speaker; not the response he was hoping for.

“Keigo, look,” he began, “keeping up appearances, right? You said so yourself.”

He could hear the mockery in Touya’s voice, he was being especially cruel this evening. He was suddenly far more conscious of his wounds as they began to throb at each of his remarks.

“Could yo-”

“Maybe I was a little hard on you,” Touya admitted. “Is that why you left tonight?”

Keigo didn’t answer and he heard Touya huff.

“It’s cold here, y’know.” Touya’s voice was drawn out, he was breathing heavily. “...and I’m lonely.”

Keigo bit his lip as the sound of Touya’s heavier breathing sent a jolt down his spine.

“I hate to say it,” he told him, “but it’s your fault.”

Touya let out a disapproving grunt. Keigo shifted his body, manoeuvring his wings beneath him, he now lay on his back.

"I know you wanted my attention," Touya said, his voice dripping with smugness, "you wouldn't have made me work to get you to pick up otherwise."

Keigo could hear Touya's voice begin to waver, his throaty breaths stirring a heat beneath his trousers.

"You little brat."

Touya's unexpected name-calling elicited an involuntary whimper from Keigo's lips, he could feel his face burn as soon as he heard Touya's approving growl in response.

“Ooh,” he chuckled, “you like that, don’t you.”

Keigo’s eyes fluttered as he listened to him, his hand roaming absentmindedly across his chest. He whimpered when his fingers brushed across a sensitive, erect nipple.

Touya let out a low, frustrated moan. “Is this your way of punishing me?”

With a frustrated grunt, Keigo pushed his phone on speaker and lay it on the pillow next to his head. His now phone-free hand made its way down to his boxers, resting on the growing bulge beneath the tight fabric.

“Not everything is about you, y’know,” Keigo told him playfully, his palm applying a pleasant pressure against his restrained hard cock. He let out a breathy moan.

“Doesn’t sound like it on this end,” Touya teased.

Keigo could hear him fumble with his belt buckle on the other end of the line. He heard him curse under his breath, he must be struggling with something; the thought made Keigo smirk.

“Having some trouble there?” Keigo mocked playfully. “I’d have done it in half the time.”

He heard Touya moan, then felt his cock twitch beneath his palm. Keigo unceremoniously pushed his boxers down, kicking them with no thought off the bed, They landed with a light thump on the other side of the room.

“Don’t you think I deserve some compensation?” Keigo asked.

His hand was already wrapped firmly around his hard cock. He could hear Touya’s breathing quicken with his own and his hips bucked ever so slightly at the thought of Touya sat there, touching himself to the thought of him.

“I’m sure we can arrange something,” Touya’s voice was a low growl. “I bet you wish it was my hand around your hard cock right now, don’t you, Keigo?” Touya’s chuckle filled the room when Keigo whimpered, his hand instinctively tightened around his cock. “Or better yet, my mouth, right?”

Keigo’s thumb sent an electrifying jolt through his body when he brushed it against the sensitive, already slick, tip.

“Y’know,” Touya took a sharp breath in, “it’s been a while since we last fucked, right?” He grunted. “Thinking about how I could’ve taken you tonight. Maybe just toyed with you a little more.”

He moaned, without restraint this time, and Keigo whined as his back arched and his cock twitched in response. With his free hand, Keigo pulled and twisted one of his nipples, the firm hand around his cock began to move.

“You needly little whore,” Touya chuckled as if he wasn’t touching himself to the thought of spreading Keigo’s thighs. He let out a shuddering moan when he thought about laying his hand hard down on Keigo’s ass as he slid his thick, pulsating cock deep inside his tight, juicy little hole.

Stroking slowly. Up and down.

Again.

Keigo continued to whimper as he writhed beneath his own hands, intoxicated by Touya’s voice ringing in his ears. It sounded deafening in the empty room, engulfing him.

“I want to hear you beg for me,” Touya demanded. “That pathetic, whiney voice of yours just begging for me.” His rhythmic, breathy grunts told Keigo he was pumping his cock harder now.

Stroking faster. Up and down.

Again.

Keigo’s breathing became jagged as the drool pooled in his mouth.  He lifted his leg lazily, whimpering as he firmly pressed a finger against his tight hole, the grip on his cock tightened as he continued.

“Please,” Keigo whined breathlessly, “you know I deserve it.”

He pushed his head back hard into the pillow, biting his lip hard as the slick, wet sound of Touya fucking his own cock harder broadcasted louder through the speaker.

“You know I deserve to be fucked, daddy,” Keigo whimpered desperately.

“Fuuuck-” Touya groaned pleasantly.

Keigo’s wings fluttered intuitively in response. He smirked as he released a feather, manoeuvring it to his exposed throat.

“I deserve to have your hands tight around my neck,” he continued, breathing heavily as he tightened the pressure against his throat, “as your big, hard cock slides in and out of me.”

Keigo moaned low in his throat, his desperate noises eliciting equally delicious ones from Touya, as he slipped his finger into his asshole. The hand around his cock instinctively tightened as he jerked himself off.

“Have you been enough of a boy?” Touya’s voice was barely more than a breath amidst his moans.

Keigo’s pelvis jerked involuntarily and his head tilted to the side, his mouth searching for something to bite as the heat began to surge within his core. The feathers around his neck tightened.

“Please, daddy,” he whimpered, squirming, “I’ve been a very good boy.”

“Mmmm,” Touya sounded pleased.

Keigo pushed his face further into the pillow as his strangled moans escaped his lips. He was almost ashamed at just how pathetic they were but he needed him. He could hear Touya’s grunted curses through the speaker and his own cock pulsed harder against his hand.

“Cum for me, Keigo,” Touya’s voice came unexpectedly. Keigo yelped. “I said, ‘cum for me.’”

A long, drawn-out guttural moan escaped Keigo’s lips. He felt himself twinge with heat as he spasmed from his climax, the feathers at his throat immediately became limp. He continued to stroke his sensitive cock even after the last drop of cum dribbled onto his skin, the jolts of pleasure it granted him continued to make him moan long after he had finished.

A satisfying silence filled the air until Touya let out a breathy chuckle.

“Don’t make me ask a third time, yeah?”

Beep.