#if only my computer could handle my talent

[baker-chan-senpai]

buncha doodles

[marksmelodies]

forever only

idol eric x fem reader

genre: angst, smut, fluff

warnings: suggestive, mentions of sex, unprotected sex, lots of kissing

note: if you haven’t watched eric’s LA vlog on theboyz youtube channel you definitely should before reading this since it’s heavily based on that!

minors dni

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walking out of your apartment in los angeles you head to your favorite cafe down the street, walking through the door hearing the bell chime as you enter, you order your coffee and sit at a table finishing up some work for college. fall semester just started and it was always the most stressful but this time around you didn’t sign up for many classes making the workload a lot easier to handle

you could finally focus on dance a little more which is your passion ever since you could walk your parents put you in dance and you absolutely flourished. now a college student you spend most of your time teaching dance classes, mostly hip hop because that was more of your style

as you work on your computer with your headphones on you hear a text message notification go off, ignoring it you continue with your work, until it goes off again, you check your phone to see a message from an unknown number

unknown #: hey y/n, it’s been a long time, i hope you’re doing well! i just wanted to let you know that i will be in LA for a few days this week with my group, if you aren’t busy tomorrow, i’m having a get together with miles at my place to meet my members you should come too

unknown #: oh this is eric by the way

your heart immediately drops as a state of nausea washes over your body “ god damn it miles” you cuss under your breath as you call him

“ yo what’s up” he answers the phone

“ you’ve got to be kidding me” you sigh

“ what’s wrong with you?” he asks

“ what’s wrong with me? oh i don’t know maybe what’s wrong with me is i just got a text from eric.. eric sohn” you whisper yell over the phone as you exit the cafe to get some fresh air

“ oh yeah i gave him your number” he laughs

“ why, why would you do that” you yell

“ he asked about you, he wants to see you again y/n” miles sighs

“ i don’t understand why you would give him my phone number after the whole reason why i got a new one was to avoid him”

“ listen y/n it’s been years, don’t you think it’s time to see him again, he asks about you all the time and i’m tired of making up excuses to why you avoid him, he hasn’t been back to los angeles since he left freshman year and the first thing he asked me is if he can possibly see you again while he’s here” miles says

you feel the tears begin to pull from your eyes

“ it’s just really hard for me miles, you don’t think i want to see him too? i want nothing more than to see him again, to see how far he’s come, but i don’t know if my heart is ready for that”

“ i know, but it’s been years maybe it’s time to truly move on and hopefully seeing him can give you enough closure to do so” he says

“ yeah maybe your right” a long pause comes from you before you speak again

“ i’ll go tomorrow” you say

“ good, i’m glad to hear that, everything will be okay i promise” he says, after hanging up the phone you walk back into the cafe packing up your stuff and heading back home,as you sit on the bed looking at the message eric sent you finally get the courage to respond

“ sounds great i’ll be there” you text back before shutting your phone off

you and eric met in middle school, he was popular due to his talent in baseball, all the girls obsessed over him, not you though at least not at first,you had biology class together and eventually got assigned to do a project with one another, after that you two became inseparable, eric introduced you to your now best friend miles and the three of you became the friend group that everyone wanted to be apart of

as time went on you started to have a little crush on eric, that crush only got bigger and bigger as you two got older, eric felt the same way about you, although eric had been in total awe the second he laid his eyes on you for the first time, the more he got to know you the more he fell in love, the summer going into your eighth grade year eric confessed his feelings to you and you confessed back

your relationship with eric was very lighthearted, a simple middle school fling, acting the same way towards eachother as you did when you were just friends maybe with the benefit of hand holding but that was it, to everyone’s surprise you both made it over a year which was super long for a middle school relationship, but you and eric were truly in love and a lot of people underestimated your feelings for each other

you remember the day that eric told you he was leaving to move to korea to pursue his dreams , you were heartbroken but being the supportive person you were you didn’t let him see how sad you were about it, you gave him all the best wishes and the two of you split up on good terms, you both knew it was impossible to continue this relationship when you would be across the world from each other

that wasn’t the last time you saw eric though, once you became a senior in high school you and your dance team got invited to a dance workshop in seoul south korea, of course the universe just had to mess with you because during your trip you ran into him while visiting the han river late one night, one thing led to another and you ended up hooking up with him that night.. and the next morning…in full retrospect the intimate moments you shared with him during that trip was amazing but after you left it made you feel like shit, you kept in contact with eachother for a few months after you saw him but eventually the text messages became less frequent and then just stopped all together, it was your own fault letting him break your heart for the second time, you got your own hopes up, you couldn’t blame him for his inconsistency, you saw how busy his life had become, how hard he worked everyday without a break.

but selfishly you wished sometimes that he would have stayed in LA, become a college student like yourself and the two of you could be together again, maybe even be on the road to getting married and building a life together, you knew that was never in the cards for him, he was meant to be an idol there was no doubt about it but every so often you find yourself thinking about an alternate reality, one where the two of you could be together for good

that night was rough on you, tossing and turning over all the possibilities that could come out of the events of tomorrow, being honest with yourself you don’t even know how you’re going to look him in the eyes without falling in love with him all over again. as if you got over him in the first place, which newsflash.. you never did

waking up in the morning was hard, your alarm blared in your ears as you crawled out of bed. you spent most of the day mentally preparing yourself to see eric again, miles had arrived not too long ago as you were getting yourself ready

“ does this look too slutty” you say doing a turn in your bikini for your best friend

“ no you look good, hurry up though we’re going to be late” he says. quickly throwing on a minidress as a coverup you both leave your place as you head over to eric’s house

“ are you nervous” miles asks noticing your leg shaking up and down as you sit in the passenger seat

“ yeah i am, i feel like im going to throw up everywhere” you respond, finally pulling up to eric’s place you can hear the music playing and some faint yelling coming from the pool

getting out of the car you walk through the back gates to the pool area, standing behind miles trying to shield yourself from the sight of eric. that didn’t work “ miles, y/n, over here” eric waved the two of you down

walking over to the big canopy and a large table filled with a ton of korean dishes you finally stand there in front of eric for the first time in a long time, eric walks up to miles dabbing him up and then turning to you, he smiles at you pulling you into a hug “ im glad you made it y/n it means a lot that you’re here” he says

his familiar scent fills your nostrils causing you to gain a wave of nostalgia, pulling away you flash a tight lipped smile at him. “ guys this is my best friend miles and this is my friend y/n” eric says hesitating on the word friend, his members all smile and wave as you both do the same back

you sit next to miles during dinner, thankfully eric is across the table filming a vlog for the groups youtube channel, once dinner was finished everyone decided to go swimming

setting your stuff down on a chair you begin to take your dress off leaving you in nothing but a tiny bikini, you felt eyes on you, turning around eric’s eyes met yours before he turned away quickly trying not to make it obvious that he was staring at you

“ hey” eric walks up to you “ hey” you respond back looking to the ground “ im sorry if it’s awkward seeing me again” he says itching the back of his neck

“ no it’s fine it’s not awkward” you say completely lying. “ i missed having you around you know” eric says looking into your eyes “ yeah i missed you too” you say as you feel your heart beating out of your chest

he looked so good with nothing but his swim trunks on, his toned upper body out for display. “ let’s go in the pool yeah?” he asks

“ yeah i just have to put my hair up” you say to him as he gives you a look

“ you never changed have you” he laughs “ you’re going to get your hair wet regardless” he rolls his eyes at you

“ fine whatever” you say leaving your hair down

you walk with him to the deep end of the pool, everyone is already in but the two of you, “okay let’s jump in together on the count of three ready..one.. two… three..” eric counts, you had planned to pretend to jump in that way eric would have been the only one to actually jump but eric had the same idea as you

you both laugh as eric approaches you “ no eric don’t” you yell before he pushes you into the pool

quickly swimming up to the surface of the water you put your hand out to eric “ what the hell eric, at least help me out” you yell as eric grabs your hand. before he could pull you up you yank your arm back pulling him into the water with you

“ i should’ve saw that coming” he says laughing

“ i can’t believe you fell for that” you laugh

joining the others in a game of water spikeball miles makes eye contact with you smirking as you and eric continuously flirt with each other

“ that was a point” you yell to eric

“no it wasn’t” he yells back

“ yes it was” you splash water on him, he walks closer to you splashing you back before picking you up, eric lifts you up throwing you into the water, he swims over to you as you splash water in his face one last time “ that was mean” you say to him

he tucks a strand of lose hair behind your ear “so pretty” he whispers, the two of you now inches away from each other, you wanted nothing more than to kiss him right then and there but before anything could happen one of eric’s members yells for him to come join in the game again

eventually you get out of the pool, feeling tired from the continuous swim races that eric challenged you to even though you beat him every time. eric approached you sitting on one of the chairs “ come back in” he whines

“ no i’m tired of swimming” you say looking up at him “please y/n i’ll carry you” he says. you nod your head yes, knowing you could never say no to him “ sure” you say walking to the steps of the pool

all the guys had gotten out and were now inside the house talking to eachother, leaving just you and eric alone together in the pool. it had gotten dark, the sun was long gone, the pool light shined as you swam over to eric wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, he looks down at you smiling as he places one of his arms around your waist and the other on your ass to hold you up, you knew it was wrong, you knew that you shouldn’t be doing this but when it came to eric all of your sense left your brain and you begin to think with your heart instead

you lay your head on his shoulder as he carries you to the deep end sitting down on the ledge “ i meant what i said earlier, i really missed you pretty girl” eric whispers

“ i meant when i said i missed you too” you say lightly kissing the side of his neck. he rubs his hand up and down your back as the other rubs your thigh, taking your head off of his shoulder looking up at him, both of your eyes locking , you feel butterflies in your stomach as eric moves closer and closer until finally his lips are on yours

the kiss was passionate, you both had been waiting for this moment for a long time, he moves in closer holding the side of your face as one of your hand reaches into his hair while the other is pressed against his chest, you softly moan into the kiss as eric moves your bottoms to the side before entering his finger into your pussy without breaking the kiss

“ fuck eric” you moan noticing his eyes are now darker than they were before “ you’re so tight baby, when’s the last time you had sex” he asks kissing your neck “ the last time was with you” you say looking at him, eric smiles at the thought of no one else fucking you but him

he enters another finger into you causing you to moan loudly before eric covers your mouth with his other hand “ shh babygirl they can still hear you over the music, you don’t want anyone to hear us do you?” he says as he fucks you with his fingers “ fuck eric i’m gonna cum” you whine, he stops thrusting his fingers in you “ fuck yourself on my fingers baby” he says kissing your head, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten as you ride his fingers “ cum for me love” eric says, you throw your head back letting yourself ride out your climax releasing onto his fingers, you moan as your body begins to shake “ good girl” eric kisses your lips once again before letting you catch your breath as he fixes your bathing suit

getting out of the pool you notice eric’s dick poking out of his pants “ i feel bad let me help you” you say as he looks down at you “ i’ll be okay for now, i think somone will come looking for us if we’re out here any longer” he chuckles palming his boner

the sliding glass door opens “ hey we’re going start up a game of football if you wanna join” miles says poking his out of the door “ okay we’ll be right there” eric responds drying himself off as you do the same

sitting in the grass you watch majority of the guys play football, kevin and jacob walk up next to you as you invite them to sit down “ im finally meeting the girl eric won’t ever shut up about” kevin says looking to you

“ really he talks about me?” you ask

“ literally all the time” jacob responds

it goes quiet for a moment before kevin speaks again “ the two of you have chemistry you know?” he says. “ yeah we all could sense it the moment you got here” jacob adds

you sigh “ yeah that’s how it is with eric and i, no matter how long we go without talking to each other the moment we’re together we act as if we’re magnets constantly gravitating towards one another”

“ i haven’t seen eric this happy in a while” jacob states

“ yeah i’ve never seen him so in love” kevin says

“ you think he’s still in love with me?” you ask

“ oh we know he’s still in love with you” they both reassure you

“ i never stopped loving him you know, i did everything to avoid him, to stop thinking about him and look where it led me” you laugh looking over at eric who was running with the football in his hands

“ i think you should tell him that, he’s been beating himself up a lot about still being hooked on you all these years later” jacob says quickly stopping the conversation as eric approaches you

he sits down next to you pulling you into a hug “ ew eric get off of me your all sweaty” you yell pushing him off of you as he laughs hysterically, kevin and jacob smile at the sight of you both as you get up running away from eric as he tries to wipe his sweat on you. eventually capturing you in his arms eric throws you over his shoulder as you kick and scream pleading him to let you down

you are now all in front of the big tv everyone spread across the living room watching a horror movie, eric laid behind you on the couch as his arms wrapped around your waist, legs tangled together, at this point everyone had caught on that you and eric weren’t just “friends” miles smiles at the two of you cuddled on the couch. throughout the movie you and eric scream every so often hugging eachother tightly, everyone laughing at how scared you two are. as the move comes to an end eric moves closer to your face “ spend the night” eric whispers into your ear, “ okay” you say turning around placing a soft kiss to his lips

everyone except eric says goodbye to you and miles before leaving to go back to their hotel “ you ready to head out” miles asks you, you look at him before speaking “ um actually i think im gonna spend the night here with eric” you say to him, he lets out a big sigh before speaking again “ you know what’s going to happen if you do that right?” he asks as you nod your head yes

“ are you okay with having sex with him and then being thousands of miles away from each other again when he leaves, look i’m not going to tell you what to do with your life but this is exactly what happened last time” miles says

“ i don’t know what to tell you miles, im in love with him, im going to have alot more regret if i don’t spend every minute that i can with him before he leaves” you tell him. he pulls you into a hug “ you know i just care about you” he says before walking over to say his goodbyes to eric

“ i need to shower i feel gross” you say as he laughs bringing you up to his room, you and eric both shower together, it wasn’t in a sexual way but more of a romantic moment between to two of you, his hands roam your body as he washes your hair giving you kisses here and there as you do the same to him

as the two of you get out and dry off you feel eric’s naked body hug you from behind, his hard cock poking your back while he kisses your neck as you watch him in the mirror, feeling the warmth between your legs you can tell you’re getting wet for him “ i need you” you moan

that was all he needed to hear before picking you up and throwing you on the bed, leaning over you he hooks his mouth to one of your boobs while playing with the other, leaving open mouth kisses to your body, you trace his abs as you look into his eyes letting him know that you’re growing impatient, eric chuckles before kissing your lips, after spreading your legs eric drags his tip over your clit a few times causing you to whimper before lining his cock up with you as he slowly sides himself into your hole

“ oh my god eric” you choke out, as he stays still for a moment letting you get used to his size “ you’re so tight love” he says before slowly thrusting into you “ faster” you moan clawing at his back, eric brings one hand up to your neck while the other one grips your waist as he rams himself into you“ fuck baby you’re so wet for me” he grunts

turning you over leaving you on all fours arching your back for him, he grabs a handful of your hair before ramming into you once again causing you to scream when he hits your g spot “ you’re taking me so well babygirl, i’m so proud of you” he says as grab onto the sheets tears streaming down your face“ i’m coming” you moan as you squeeze around him, your hips shake repeatedly hinting that you had finished, “ good girl” he says flipping you around again once again placing your legs in his shoulders as he chases his own high, squeezing around him once again his thrusts become sloppy and rushed as he whimpers “ shit i’m coming” he says looking to you “ oh fuckkkk” he says moaning as you feel warm strings of him cum shoot into you, he stays inside of you as he wipes away your tears giving you multiple pecks on the lips “ you did so well for me baby, made me feel so good” he says pulling out of you watching his cum leak from your pussy as he used his fingers to push it back in causing moans to slip out form your mouth

the two of you weren’t even close to being done for the night, you went multiple rounds from having you on top riding him to him eating you out and then fucking you in front of the bathroom mirror, you both went at it, making up for lost time

the last round however was different, seeing you so fucked out made eric want to do nothing but be gentle with you, he layed you down on your stomach as he laid on top of you slowly thrusting into your pussy as he played with your hair, kissing on your shoulders “ as much as i love fucking you until you can’t walk nothing will ever beat making love to you” he whispers in your ear as you arch your back a little bit still lying down, his hands roam your body as he praises you “ you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever laid my eyes on” he carefully turns you over to look at your face

you wrap your legs around his torso as your hands play with his hair slowly and gently moving his length in and out of you“ i love you so much y/n” he says caressing your cheek, you look up at him “ i love you too eric” you say as he leans in to kiss you gently

after he came in you for the last time he cleaned you up putting the covers over your body before getting in bed with you, scooping you up into his arms he places a kiss on your forehead while gently rubbing your back “ eric?” you mumble into his chest “ yes sweet girl?”

“ did you mean what you said earlier about loving me” you ask looking up at him, he smiled before kissing your lips “ of course i did, i’ve loved you since i first laid my eyes on you, and i never stopped” he said raking his hands through your hair, you smile at his answer “ good because i never stopped loving you either”

a silence washed over the both of you until you spoke again “ eric?” you ask once more he chuckles at you “ yes sweet girl” repeats himself you stop and think about the question you’re going to ask “ is this the last time we’re going to see each other” your voice begins to tremble as your tears begin to fall onto his naked chest

“ oh sweetheart come here” he says pulling you up more so that your head in is in the crook of his neck as he rubs your back, “ look at me” he says as you sit up, eric places both of his hands on your cheeks wiping away your tears

“ i promise to do everything in my power to make sure that we see eachother a lot more often” he says before pulling you back into his chest as you begin to cry harder, “ i just never want to repeat what happened last time” you say trying to calm yourself down “ it won’t i’ll make sure of it” he says

“ im so sorry i stopped answering your calls and your messages, i just felt like i was holding you back on so many levels,i never wanted you to hold you back from finding love with someone who would be there for you way more than i could’ve” eric feels his eyes build up with tears, trying his best to hold them back, but he couldn’t causing him to break down, you lift your head up off of his chest when you feel eric’s body shake with his sobs

“ oh my god eric” you coo, the sight of the boy you had known since you were fourteen breaking down in front of you made you sob again along with him

eric had always been an emotional person, but around you he never showed that side of himself, for all the years of knowing you he was always the one wiping your tears not the other way around

you sit up placing his head to your chest letting him sob in the crook of your neck this this time. “ i don’t want to lose you again, i don’t think i can handle it this time” he says in between sobs. “ you won’t lose me eric i promise, if i start taking online courses for school i can visit you all the time and once i get my degree we can talk about me moving to korea” his head shoots up off of your chest “ y/n i cant ask you to leave everything and everyone you love behind just for me” he says, you shush him “ you’re not asking, i’m offering, eric i would move anywhere if it meant i get to be with you”

“ you would do that for me, leave everything you’ve ever know behind, move somewhere completely different on the other side of the world.. just for me” he asks. you chuckle at him before kissing his lips that taste like salt due to his tears

“ i would do it in a heartbeat” you say. as the two of you calmed down you lay back on his chest staring at the ceiling “ have you ever thought about our future together, like getting married and having kids” you ask looking to him, he looks down at you “ i think about it a lot actually, i think about how i would propose and what our wedding would be like, how beautiful you would look walking down the isle in your white dress, i think about how sexy you would be with the baby i put in your belly, how hot you would look waddling around pregnant with our child, you would make a hot mom by the way” he laughs

“ how about you? do you think about our future?” he asks raising his eyebrow “all the time, i think about marrying you a lot more than id like to admit, i think about having kids with you, i even think about you doing the sexy dad walk out of the hospital with our baby” you laugh

“ i promise one day we’ll get to experience all of that together”eric says before placing another kiss to your lips, he pauses before opening his mouth again to speak

“will you be my girlfriend again, this time for good” eric asks

“of course my love, i would love nothing more” you reply giving him one last kiss

“ goodnight i love you so much y/n”

“ goodnight eric i love you more”

you went to sleep peacefully that night, even though eric was leaving the next morning you felt content with his departure for the first time, you felt really confident in your relationship this time around, you knew you both were serious about doing anything and everything to be together as much as you could

you would have never believed that the boy you met in your middle school biology class would end up being the one you plan on sharing the rest of your life with, but here you are all these years later, that boy is now a man laying in your arms after a long night of making love to each other, your naked bodies tangled together as he lets out small snores, holding each other close promising to never let go again

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i know i usually only write for nct but recently eric has been on my mind a lot so i needed to write for him hehe, i hoped you enjoyed <3

[mandos-mind-trick]

Lollipop

Summary: You're doing it on purpose. He wholeheartedly believes it.

Pairing: Crosshair x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Crosshair's oral fixation, sexual tension, oral sex, lots of teasing, cum swallowing, finger sucking, Crosshair is kind of rough but what do you expect, language, slightly possessive Crosshair, eating candy but make it sexual.

A/N: *Sweats nervously* Uh yeah. I don't have much to say about this one. Please enjoy my fellow Crosshair simps.

MASTERLIST

You’re doing it on purpose. 

He wholeheartedly believes it. 

You’re sitting there in nothing but a shirt and your panties, relaxed back in the pilot’s seat. One bare leg is propped up on the console, the other spinning the chair back and forth. Back and forth. Your panties offer just enough coverage, but one wrong move and he would be able to see everything. 

You’re certainly not shy. 

His eyes trail up your body, focusing where your fingers are wrapped around the stick of the candy you liked. It was some specialty from your home planet, and you kept a whole crate of it on board. You’ve finished this one off, instead absentmindedly chewing on the stick as you read something on your datapad. 

You’re a pain in his ass, but you’re a talented pain in his ass. 

He had quickly gotten bored on Pabu. There were only so many fish he could catch before he started to go crazy. So he had made the decision to leave, to join Echo and Rex and fight against the Empire that had controlled him for so long. It wasn’t long before he was partnered with you, a highly skilled bounty hunter turned rebel. Rex knew you and trusted you, and you have yet to prove yourself unworthy of that. 

Even if you do drive him insane. 

He watches the way your tongue darts out, shifting the stick from one side of your mouth to the other. He can see the way your tongue moves, flicking the stick back and forth. His eyes narrow, hands closing into fists where they rest on his thighs.

“Why don’t you take a picture or something?” You say, putting down your datapad. 

He narrows his eyes even more, glaring at you as you stand. “Why don’t you put on your pants?” 

“It’s my ship.” You say, flicking the candy stick at him. It bounces off his chestplate with a quiet tink. You lean over his shoulder, resting your hand on the computer console. “Have you found our location yet?” 

“Yes.” He answers simply, glancing at you from the side as he leans slightly away. It’s not that he’s repulsed by you. No, in fact you smell good. You bathed religiously, imbuing yourself with some expensive soap from Naboo that made you smell like some sort of dessert. 

Good enough to eat. 

“He’s not exactly hiding.” You say, your tongue popping out to press against your upper lip as you read the screen. It’s what you do when you focus. 

He hates it. 

“You ever been to Nixor?” You ask, turning to face him. 

“No.” He says simply. 

“Well, you’re not missing much.” You say, pushing yourself off the console and back to the pilot’s seat. “We’ll be there in an hour or so.” 

***

You’re good at your job. No, you’re great at it. You’re more than happy to let him handle things from afar, waltzing right in without fear. Many quarries have been surprised to find not only are you not helpless, you’re also not alone. You’re good in a tight spot, making him feel like he’s only there to watch sometimes. 

Sometimes he thinks you mess up on purpose just to give him something to do besides stare at you. 

Which he does. 

A lot. 

“Come on, toothpick.” You say as you lower the ramp to the ship. “I need a bath.” 

He jumps as you pat his ass on the way up the ramp. His eyes narrow, waiting a moment before he follows you in. You weren’t overly touchy, but sometimes you liked to push boundaries.

Sometimes he wants to grab a handful of your perky little ass. 

“About three hours to Coruscant.” You say as the ship jumps into hyperspace. “You wanna fuck or something?” 

He nearly inhales his toothpick as his head snaps towards you. You stand from the pilot’s seat, sauntering over to him. It’s the same walk you use on some quarries. You bend down in front of him, plucking the toothpick from between his teeth, slipping it into your own mouth. 

“Why would I want to do that?” He manages to grit out, eyes narrowed at you as you hover over him. 

“Well, you have to constantly be staring at me for some reason.” You shift forward, planting yourself in his lap. You wrap an arm around his shoulders, fingers grazing the back of his neck. “If it’s not cause you like the way I look, then why is it?” 

He’s not sure how to answer. You are attractive, for a nat-born. He’s not stupid, he knows it, and he knows you use it to your advantage. He rarely lets anyone that close, unless out of boredom or necessity. He wonders how many others have found themselves in this position, how many others have fallen victim to your confidence. 

Thankfully you don’t give him time to answer, plucking the toothpick from your mouth. Your tongue traces your lips, his eyes following its every path. “I don’t know how you chew these things. Pokes the shit out of me.” You slip the toothpick back into his mouth, pulling a candy out of your pocket instead.

You carefully unwrap it, tossing the wrapper on the floor before slipping it into your mouth. He watches you, the way the stick moves outside your lips. He can picture the way your tongue swirls around the candy, coating your mouth in sticky sweetness. You stare back at him, unwavering under his gaze. Your nails rake against the back of his neck, a shudder running down his spine.

He reaches a hand up, fingers wrapping around the stick of the candy. He pulls it from your lips, watching the way your lips pucker around it. He holds it up between you, your eyes meeting his. You stare at him for a moment, searching his gaze. You seem to find whatever it is you're looking for as you lean forward, staring up into his eyes as you stick your tongue out. You run the length of it along the candy, flicking the tip across it before pulling back with a smirk. 

His gaze darkens, and he pushes the candy back between your lips. You take it eagerly, lips turning up in a grin. You lean closer, hand dropping to rest on his thigh, right in the gap between his thigh plate and codpiece, thumb just centimeters from the bulge. His blacks are starting to feel tight, his cock pressing against his codpiece almost painfully. 

You push the candy to the side so you can speak, smiling playfully up at him. “So? We’ve got three hours.” 

He curses himself silently, lifting a hand to tangle in your hair. Your lips part in a gasp, the candy nearly dropping from your mouth. He tugs it from between your teeth, flicking his toothpick onto the floor before he slips it into his own mouth. It’s sickeningly sweet, some flavor he doesn’t recognize. 

He slips his finger between your lips, pressing against your teeth. “Bite.” 

You sink your teeth into the tip of his glove, and he pulls his hand free. He takes the glove, tossing it to the floor. You’ve never seen any of his skin besides his face. He always wore his armor, always covered, going into the bathroom and leaving it. He slept in it too, on the rare occasion you had to make longer trips. 

His fingers are rough and calloused as they slide across your skin, his thumb tracing your lips before tugging at the bottom one. You part your lips, his thumb pressing into your mouth. You immediately close your lips around it, tongue darting out to lick the tip. He tastes like blaster residue from holding his rifle. 

He presses his thumb further into your mouth, your tongue flattening against it. You hold his gaze as you suck his thumb, swirling your tongue around it. He releases your hair, taking the candy from his lips, letting it drop to the floor. His own tongue darts out to lick his lips, your eyes following it. You hum around his thumb, shifting in his lap. 

He pulls his thumb free, gripping the back of your neck to pull you closer to his face. You’ve never been this close to him, close enough you can see the texture of his skin, all the little blemishes. Your lips part, breath heavy as he leans even closer, licking at your lips. Your hands grip his shoulders, eyes fluttering closed as he traces your lips with his tongue, tasting the remnants of the candy. 

Your lips part more, your own tongue darting out to lick the tip of his. His grip tightens on you, tugging you as close as he can as he smashes his lips onto yours. You whimper against his lips, his tongue invading your mouth. You taste sweet like candy, melting into him as he explores your mouth. The sound is loud in the quiet ship as he practically devours you, licking and nipping at your mouth and lips. 

You try and press yourself closer to him, grinding against his codpiece. He licks at your lips as he pulls you back slightly, holding the back of your neck. He brings his fingers back to your lips, pressing two of them into your mouth. You take them eagerly, relaxing as he pushes them all the way in to the knuckle. 

You whine around his fingers, tongue pressing against the digits as he lets them rest there. Your eyes flutter closed, one hand raising to grip his wrist. He releases the back of your neck, your head beginning to bob as you suck the length of his fingers. His free hand drops to tug off his codpiece, letting it drop to the floor with a clang. He passes a hand over the bulge in his blacks, eyes focused on you. Your own eyes crack open, staring at him as you suck his fingers. 

You tilt your head back, pulling yourself off his fingers. You tease the tips with your tongue for a second before meeting his gaze. “I wanna suck your cock.” You pout, using the stare you often did on quarries, the male ones, the easy ones. 

He falls just as easily, pushing you as you lower yourself to your knees between his legs. He wonders how many others have been in this position. None of the quarries have ever gotten this close. At least, not the ones you’ve caught since he joined you. He doesn’t let his mind wander, jealousy beginning to bubble within him. He wants your mouth. He wants your mouth to be his. He wants your body to be his. He wants you to be his. 

You’re a pain in his ass, but he wants you to be the pain in his ass. 

You rub his bulge through his blacks, tongue darting out to press against your top lip. He groans, gripping the sides of the chair as he watches you. That sinful mouth that’s spewed teasing banter his way since you met him. You never backed down, meeting him toe to toe in ways no one had been brave enough to, besides his brothers. 

What would they think of him now? 

You open his blacks, hand wrapping around his length. He’s hard and leaking already, just the sight of your mouth enough to elicit such a response. He’s not going to last long. Not with that little pink tongue sticking out, so close to touching him. Not with those lips, swollen from his kisses. 

He refrains from touching you, wanting to see what you’ll do alone as you lean in to him. Your tongue flicks along his head, pulling a shaky breath from his lips. He watches enraptured as your tongue traces a circle around him before trailing down his length. Your hand holds the base of him, squeezing gently as you lick him like your candy, your eyes lifting to his face to watch him. 

His eyes are dark and lust blown, the normal glare gone as he stares down at you. He looks fucked out already and you’ve barely touched him. You smirk, opening your mouth to take his head between your lips. You flatten your tongue against him, sinking onto his length. He’s so thick, his precum salty on your tongue. You breathe through your nose as you take as much of him as you can, whimpering quietly as he presses close to the back of your throat. 

He groans out a curse, tangling a hand in your hair. You release him, taking a deep breath before taking him back in your mouth. Your other hand rests on his thigh plate as you sink back onto him, taking him as far as you can before pulling back. You set a rhythm, keeping your head lifted as much as you can to stare at him as you suck his cock. He’s close, you can tell by his breathy groans, the twitching of his cock between your lips. 

You moan as he tugs at your hair, the sound vibrating around him. He holds your head still, fucking into your mouth as he cums with a loud moan, spilling into your mouth. 

You pull free from his cock once he finishes, staring at him as you swallow his load. His lips part, chest heaving as he stares at you. He swipes his cock against your lips, your tongue sticking out to clean him up. He leans back in the seat, watching your mouth. He’s far from done, and he knows you are too. 

Maybe this partnership isn’t so bad after all.

Taglist:

@kaminocasey, @rosechi, @mxkyrie, @bobaprint, @star-trekker-0013, @padawancat97, @bamfahsoka, @rain-on-kamino

[oceanlipgloss]

ONLINE FRIENDS

LEVIATHAN.

+ warnings: angst, strong language.

+ my mc is the heroine, so the pronouns are feminine.

It is said that existing in the same world as someone you cherish is better than nothing at all. He had read that many times. Many times. More than he can count. Despite the different timezones, the great distances, the knowledge that the two of you live in the same galaxy—separated by tangible barriers just—is enough. But even then it’s hard. It’s so, so hard.

They the two them are like online friends. Overwhelmingly close, fun together, yet never truly knowing each other that well.

What if the only thing that kept them apart was not metrics, but who he himself was?

Too shy, too awkward. So clumsy, so useless.

Fickle.

Was he fickle?

Yeah, the heart can be a fickle little fucker, but was his heart like that too?

He’s always been told that he’s loyal to his passions, that he loves his interests so passionately. That had always been true, always been his conviction, until she came along and it began to feel wrong.

Sometimes—no, on most days—he couldn’t quite focus solely on her. The real, living, breathing woman with a beating heart. He bundled himself up in fiction. He wrapped his heart up with the virtual stuff and let the phantom medicines treat his deep-rooted anomalies, or at least waited for them to.  

He liked those worlds. In them, he could be worth something. He could be number one, yank all the great ranks. He could conquer the good things and be a celebrated one: a holder of grand specimens of accomplishments, an owner of the rarest of premium trophies.

In the planet beyond the intangible bars—with their pixellised models and complex codes—though, he was...no one. And sometimes, even his soul in that binary place was mangled by those who are better, even if they had not spent as much time—if at all, really—brandishing their skills like knives. Simply because they were born with talent that glowed in a surreal magnitude of magnetic stars in their cells.

He liked certain challenges, of course, but there are times when it gets...too much.

To him, it seemed that almost everyone else excelled at something, no matter how apparently useless, and there is always that one candidate or contestant that crushes all others with the golden weight of their shiny gifts.

Yeah.

He didn’t like himself.

What was there to like?

He couldn’t even love right, like his love for everything special in his measly life was a wheel of hot pizza that he had to cut up into pieces time and again. And when he bit into it, he always scalded his tied tongue.

More often than not, he loathed the real world. In it, millions of normal creatures normally go about their normal lives, while he remains a lot like the oldest model of the oldest Macintosh computer models: freezing, lagging, malfunctioning.

Mismatched.

He never had the right words, never mind the perfectly right skills.

At least characters have pre-programmed reactions. They do predictable things. Real people are nothing like that. Characters don’t hurt him. They just don’t. They’re not meant to, you know? It is not part of their program until it is—so even if and when they do, he knows it is only because they were coded to.

Yet, he’s expected to unlock the door, go out and deal with actual people, handle the scummy things they do like it’s nothing, then at the end of the day go back to his room. Everyday.

He hated these disgusting times.

When you’re like that—lost and unprepared for the basics of your century—even those closest to you can feel most unreachable, like distant friends online.

+notes: yes, hello, bonjour, I am regretfully indeed still alive. And in celebration of this fleeting but grand surprise visit of mine, I have prepared a Michelin-star humble feast, so why don't you help yourselves to the first piece I've written in over 2 months and eat this mouldy writing that has been aging in my WIPs for so very long? I invite you to indulge in a main course of braised angst, seasoned with an ounce of identity crisis projection. In all seriousness, though, the fic may have been an old WIP, but I literally just scooped it out of the pan finished it. It's still fresh. Very fresh. *logs back out*

+ MASTERLIST

+ AO3 POST

©𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨

[rorywritessmut]

Sparks in the Workplace

Ikeda Jun wants nothing more than to graduate college and leave her job as Dynamight’s PR Rep. After one fateful interview, she’s left pretending to be his lover.

Based on my Kinktober Prompt “Hate Fucking”

I didn’t want this job. I wanted to go to school and work in a simple office. I live in a world dominated by heroes and villains. Which is why I needed to jump through some hoops to get the dream job I wanted. Until then, I would have to suffer being the official PR Representative for the most explosive hero in the industry, Dynamight.

My interview was simple and I was offered the job of the spot based on my quirk, Gentle Touch. My quirk is the ability to calm anyone’s psycho-sympathetic nervous system with a simple touch. Of course, I had my limitations such as it worked only if I was touching them the whole time and it only worked for 30 minutes per use on each person. They knew that my quirk would be a good look working the infamous Explosion Murder God, Bakugou Katsuki.

Simple to say, I hated him from the moment I started working with him. I quickly found out that my quirk works especially well on him and it pissed him off. So, he tried his best to make my life a living hell.

“Hey, ponytail!” Bakugou yells at me from his office. I look up from my computer to see him crook a finger in my direction, summoning me to his office. Usually he sends out his assistant to fetch me.

“Yes, sir!” I quickly stand and bow.

I found that calling him sir and other terms used for old men made him mad. While he is technically my senior, based on him being 5 years older, he didn’t take lightly to being called old. Oh man, the time I called him uncle lingered around in my head.

“Don’t smirk, Ponytail, you’re creepy.” He sneers at me.

“Okay, Senpai.” I teased, watching the fire light in his eyes. I could immediately smell the threat of nitroglycerin seeping from his palms. He knew I would use my quirk on him and that was enough to keep the explosions at bay. It also royally pissed him off.

“Quit it.” He growled out and slammed the door behind me.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your attention?”

“Cut the shit, Ikeda.”

“So you do know my name.” I teased and leaned towards him from across the desk covered in papers.

“I should fire you” Bakugou crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at you. I’m used to these threats, his team wouldn’t allow it.

“Try it” I bite back.

“We have another interview tomorrow. Some hero podcast is interviewing that dammed Deku and I.” Of course they wanted Midoriya and Bakugou in the same room, they were known enemies turned best friends who fought all the time.

“What is the podcast name so I can do research?”

“The Talented Others.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me! That has to be one of the most disrespectful gossip channels they could find.” The Talented Others honestly, hated heroes. They hated the idea that with 98% of the population having quirks nobody should be special but heroes where. They believed that heroes were nothing more than overpaid TV Show actors.

“Believe me when I say I almost blew up the place.” Bakugou picked at his nails like he was impressed with his actions, I rolled my eyes at his behavior.

“Okay, so we need a game plan as to what we’re going to say and do. Do you have a print out of the questions?” I tried to remain professional with Bakugou at all times, but pissing him off was incredibly fun.

“Nope but you can handle all those hard questions.” His caramine eyes meet mine and I feel stuck in my seat for a second, gaping like a fish. This causes the brat to smirk at my actions. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Shut it,” I growl, “I can’t handle everything for you. You have to be a big boy at some point.” It’s my turn to smirk at him.

“Get back to work” He barks, I salute to him with two fingers and walk out the door.

I’m counting the minutes until 5 when I can get out of here. I’m constantly checking my phone because I have a date with Takeuchi Kazuo from accounting. With us being in separate departments there was no problem with us dating and there was no need to have someone sign an NDA as we both signed one when we started here.

Takeuchi is a sweet guy with bright eyes and dark hair that sits against his pale skin. He was my first ally here in the office since Bakugou had a bad habit of turning everyone against me. He wanted me to quit. Takeuchi encouraged me to stay here and keep working since it would be good for my future. When I told him I was taking night classes at the university to become a therapist he was ecstatic to meet someone who held their future in such high regards.

I was so excited to go on a date with him.

Takeuchi-san

We still on for tonight?

Ikeda Jun

Yup! I can’t wait for this date.

Takeuchi-san

(:

“What’re you smiling at, twerp?” A voice whispers next to my ear. I squeak and drop my phone, it goes clattering on my desk. I curse and turn to find Bakugou leaning over me in his hero uniform.

He was back early from patrol.

“Nothing,” I hissed.

“You’re giggling like a schoolgirl.” He deadpans.

“I have a date with a guy in the firm.” You rolled your shoulder back and met his narrowed gaze.

“Hmph.” Is all Bakugou says as he walks away from you and into the elevator. You shrug off the weird encounter and continue with your work.

5 comes and goes and you leave to get ready for the date. The walk to your apartment isn’t a long one so you’re home and ready within an hour. You decide to put on a little more makeup and dress in a warm brown sweater, a black velvet skirt, and leggings with black flats. You do your hair in a cuter style.

Then you’re off!

You get the ramen shop after changing trains a couple of times and walking a significant distance. You’re early by 5 minutes to your agreed time, 7:30. So, you go ahead and find a seat with a good view of the door so you can spot Takeuchi when he comes inside.

He never does. Around 8 I order food and send him a text. I finish by 9 and text him again. Yet, I never hear another word for him. I’m fighting back tears because he was so nice, so thoughtful. He had bought me flowers and coffee just a few days before. He had texted me earlier to make sure we were still on. By 9:30 I was a sobbing mess in the bathroom. That’s when I felt my phone buzz.

Takeuchi-san

Sorry. Rain check

I don’t respond because if I do, I will cuss at him. I want him to still see me as a respectful girl, so I leave him on read. He couldn’t be bothered with responding to me so I wouldn’t respond to him.

I pay for my food and leave the restaurant. I take the trains back home and walk straight pass my apartment. If I’m going to get blown off, I might as well get laid at the bar! There is one just a block from the hero agency. So, I go there. It’s a bit of a hole in the wall but it’s nice enough that I trust the people there.

The bar is cozy, dark, and has an easy going atmosphere. I decide to go inside and fuck the first guy who hits on me. I’m desperate at this point considering Takeuchi stole my heart and broke it, the mother fucker. Honestly, it doesn’ take long for a man to come and offer a drink.

“Hey, want a drink?” He’s cute, like an American movie star.

“From you? Sure.” I purr.

I let him order a girly fruity drink for me and we talk for a while. He’s a great conversationalist and everything is going exactly to my plan. I know if I act just dumb enough he’ll invite me to his place and I can end this dry spell. However, at one point he acts terrified and hurriedly excuses himself to the bathroom and never comes back.

Fuck.

I down my drink and head to the tiny dancefloor and dance my little broken heart out. I throw my hands up in the air and gyrate my hips to the beat of the music. I feel a hand snake around my waist and pull me against their hips. Whoever is dancing with me has the moves because they’re now guiding my movements against them. I tried to turn to see the person who has grabbed me but they quickly turn my head away from them.

“Keep dancing, pretty girl.” An oddly familiar gruff voice commands me. The use of “pretty girl” has warmth pooling between my thighs.

“I want to see who scared off my date”

“Someone better.” There is a cocky sound to his voice. Something eerily familiar.

I decide I’m too drunk to care about who is behind me and enjoy their roaming hands and flowing drinks. Who ever this is really wants me to forget tonight because they’re constantly letting me down these drinks.

At some point I wake up in my bed in my pajamas, with no ache between my legs. My mystery man must be a gentleman because he sure didn’t fuck me. I roll over to look at a beautifully written note.

You deserve better than those loser men, I’ll see you soon, pretty girl.

Creepy, but cute. I look at the clock and decide it’s time to go face my boss with the worst hangover of my life and protect him from those loser podcast whores.

[gaybananabread]

☾༺Just a Bit Longer༻☽

~So I’ve been brainrotting over RW&RB for a solid month now. The goblins need a walk, and I cannot productivity until they get one. I love these two’s dynamic; they’re just so silly. Not my best work, but writer’s block be damned; I needed to post something this week. This is completely self-indulgent, but if it’s your thing, I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Alex

Ler: Henry

Summary: Alex is overworking himself, going late into the night and working hours without breaks. Sick of his lover’s dreadful work-life management, Henry takes it upon himself to get Alex to sleep.

Warnings: mild Red, White & Royal Blue spoilers! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

Life for Alex Claremont-Diaz was the best it had ever been. Henry came over almost daily from his Brownstone, and he finally felt like he had a definite idea of where his life was headed. The only downside: he was still in school.

The NYU Law course was a bit more rigorous than he’d expected, but it was definitely what he wanted. Sure, that meant long, painful hours of reviewing for extremely difficult exams, discovering that tort is a real word, and trying to figure out a system for coursework that didn’t make his brain want to explode.

His sleep schedule was already shit, so he didn’t think any of it would be a problem. If he just pulled a few all-nighters and pumped out some late-night essays, he’d be fine. What he didn’t think about, however, was how Henry would take it.

Alex was working late on another essay, running off of coffee and pure determination. He hadn’t meant to put it off, but with the three exams he’d had that week, his mind was a scattered mess.

Henry had put up with it for most of the night, but as two AM rolled around, his understanding had run dry, replaced by concern.

Knocking the “shave and a haircut” pattern on his lover’s door, Henry entered the room. He was immediately greeted with the strong smell of coffee and desperation.

There sat his boyfriend, hunched over a computer with a half-eaten ham sandwich (he couldn’t handle turkey anymore) by his side. The blonde couldn’t help the sad sigh that escaped him.

Alex looked up, his glasses nearly all the way down on his nose. It was unfairly cute, though Henry shoved that feeling down for the moment.

“Uh…hey, Hen. Not done yet; gimme, like, another half-hour.” Alex’s gaze was back on his computer in seconds.

Henry rubbed his temples, already feeling a headache brew. For once, why couldn’t Alex just use common sense?

“Alex, darling. It’s two in the morning. You need to sleep.”

Alex scoffed, not stopping for even a second. “Says you. You stay up later than I do most of the time.” While that wasn’t untrue, Henry’s problems were because of insomnia. Alex was just a stubborn asshole.

“Look, I’m going to be brutally honest here. You look terrible, you seem exhausted, and the bags under your eyes could fit the entirety of the Royal Wardrobe. Go. To. Sleep.”

Henry laid things out bluntly, crossing his arms. It was meant to leave little room for negotiation, but defying Henry’s expectations was Alex’s special talent.

“This is due at eight AM…uh, today. I’ve only got six hours to finish this thing, but I’m almost done. I promise, just a bit longer.” This would have been more comforting if Alex hadn’t already said that three times.

“Alex, please. If you sleep now, I’ll wake you up at six, and we’ll work on it together. It hurts to see you like this, dear.” He used pet names, trying to sway Alex to listen. It was a last-ditch effort; if he still refused, Henry didn’t have much of a plan left. Sure enough, he did.

“It’s fine, Henry. I’m all good, just a little spacy. I promise, the moment I’m done, I’ll eat your face. Okay, baby?” Alex flipped the other man’s strategy back on him, hoping to fully bury the concern. He was fine: end of story.

For Henry, though, the tale was just beginning. He racked his brain, searching for anything to help him get Alex to cooperate. He could only remember one time anyone was successful.

Alex had invited him to the White House for June’s birthday party. As the night dragged on, everyone but Alex was drunk and exhausted. To tire him out, June had employed some rather…unconventional methods.

Methods that would be extremely useful to him at that moment.

Casually approaching his boyfriend, Henry put a hand on the laptop. Then, after making sure the work was saved, he closed it. He pointedly ignored Alex’s scoff and protests, grabbing his chin and pulling him in for a kiss. Alex still squirmed, though a smile was breaking out on his face.

That was all Henry needed to continue. He gripped Alex under his thighs, lifting the man up and plopping him down on his nearby bed.

A surprised sound left him, his cheeks gaining a nearly imperceptible red hue. He was expecting some push-back from Henry, but nothing this active.

“Just couldn’t wait for me, could you~?” Alex weteased, starting to sit up on the bed. Henry was quick to stop that, grabbing Alex’s arms and pinning them above his head.

Before his lover could make another joke, Henry tapped a few fingers on his side. That shut him up, if only for a second.

“Henry, I swear to fucking god, if you try anything-” He was cut off when Henry squeezed his side, resulting in an indignant squeak.

“Sorry, dear, but I’m afraid I already have~” With that, Henry clawed his fingers into Alex’s stomach, straddling him.

The tired man tried to bite his lip, but the coffee wasn’t quite enough to give him that energy. A few giggles slipped out, quickly followed by tiny curses.

“What’s the matter, Alex? Something bothering you?” Henry chuckled, leaning down further to try and hold him still.

Kicking and squirming, Alex tried anything to get away from the evil fingers. He was tired, though; his brain was moving at half-speed and felt like it was running through soup.

“Gehehet ohoff me, youhuhu prihick!” Henry has decided to move up to his ribs, scritching and scratching between each bone.

Even on a good day, it’d be hard for Alex to get out from under him. With no sleep, coffee fumes and pure spite, he had no chance.

“Why on Earth would I do that? I’m quite comfortable here. Besides, you seem to be enjoying yourself, if that blush is any indication,” Henry taunted, jutting his chin out. He didn’t really need to, but it was a sure-fire way to rile Alex.

“Fuhuhuck off! Hehenry, I swehehear- quihit!” Alex tried to bury his face in his shoulder, though he only drew attention to a new target. Henry leaned down, blowing a raspberry on his boyfriend’s neck. Alex would rather die than repeat the squeal that left him.

“Wow, Alex. Perhaps the Barbara Streisand accusation wasn't so far off,” he teased, his voice about as smug than Alex had ever heard it.

The typically witty man was in giggly shambles, trying his best not to sound like a child. He wasn’t very successful.

“SHUHUhut uhup, youhu douche!!” Laughing like a toddler, Alex was still pumping out insults. Henry was about to put a stop to that. Going for the kill, he hooked his thumbs into Alex's hip divots, kneading and squeezing the area.

That seemed to work quite well.

“GAH- HEHENRY! You- YAHAHA! FAHAHACK!” The law student lost his shit, practically cackling under his boyfriend.

Alex arched his back off the bed, only bucking into the ticklish feeling. There was no room in his mind for witt; the best he could do was “fuck fuck fuck it tickles oh my god-”

Hearts practically formed in Henry’s eyes at the adorably hysteric reaction. Still, as cute as it was, he had a mission.

“This all ends the moment you agree to rest. Or…would you like me to continue? I bet I could just tickle you senseless all night. You’d surely be exhausted then, wouldn’t you?”

Alex couldn’t even get a word out, shaking his head as he laughed. His curls went wild, getting in his eyes and puffing up. Henry wanted to brush it from his eyes, but he had to keep his priorities in order. There would be time for fawning over him later.

“HEHENRY! PLEHE- snrk” It took a solid minute, but Alex’s resolve was weakening. He was already tired beforehand, and laughing his ass off wasn’t helping. The squirming had died down almost completely, snorts slipping into the lax cackles.

While it wasn’t an agreement, the Prince could tell that his lover would be out in seconds. Henry stopped, switching to gentle traces down his sides. The first son tried to calm down, a steady stream of giggles pouring from his lips.

“H-hoholy shihihit… Thahat was evil.” He tried taking some deep breaths, rubbing his cheeks. Alex hadn’t laughed that hard in a while. He was close to just passing out right there, pure exhaustion hitting him like a freight train.

“Possibly. You deserved it, though.” Henry leaned down, gently kissing his curved lips. This sight was one of his new favorites: Alex, his toned skin flushed, practically a puddle of giggles beneath him.

Alex flipped him the bird before melting into the kiss. He weakly pulled his boyfriend down, snuggling against him. He’d all but forgotten about his essay, eyes closed the moment he laid still; the poor guy was wiped. It wasn’t terrible by any means, but all his energy was gone.

Carefully grabbing his phone, Henry set an alarm for six AM.

They’d finish that research paper; he was certain of that. With a bit of sleep, Alex would be a writing machine. True, the slightly rushed grammar would be atrocious, but that’s what Henry was there for. Pulling the sheets up over them both, Henry breathed a happy sigh.

“Good night, love.”

[btsficsandsuch]

Don’t Worry, It’s only Allergies

You looked at the clock realizing you had been working nonstop for the last few hours. Deciding it was time for a break you removed your headphones and closed your laptop. You looked up and saw your boyfriend Namjoon sitting at his desk reading over something on his computer. You assumed it was some new lyrics or maybe the groups upcoming schedule. Nothing out of the ordinary. Quietly you packed up the rest of your belongings and started to scroll on your phone not wanting to disrupt him.

Your time on the internet was cut short when you heard a sniffle coming from your boyfriends direction. Slowly making your way over to him you lightly laid your hand on his shoulder, “Joonie is something wrong?”

Namjoon chuckled and wiped at his face, “No nothings wrong. My allergies are just acting up. Don’t worry love.” He took your hand and gave you a reassuring kiss, but something about it didn’t sit right with you. Suddenly a knock at the door pulled both of your attentions in that direction. Namjoon walked over to answer it and after a few moments walked back. “Hey Y/N I’m really sorry, but management wants to have a quick meeting to go over some things for the next tour. I shouldn’t be long. Once I get back we can go get dinner and head home.” You nodded as he kissed the top of your head and walked out.

You took a seat back on the couch to patiently wait, but the scene from earlier kept replaying in your head. Namjoon never had allergies before and you knew by the wavering in his voice that he had clearly been crying. You tried to shake the thought, choosing to believe his words, but as you were looking around the studio trying to distract yourself you noticed that he had left his computer open to the page he was looking at earlier. You weren’t one for snooping, but something in your gut told you that those words had something to do with Namjoon’s current state.

You made your way over to the screen and took a seat in Namjoon’s chair. You knew he would be furious if he knew you were going behind his back, but you also knew he’d never tell you what was wrong not wanting to burden you and this was your solution to finding a way to help him.

The words on the screen broke your heart. No wonder he was in tears. Various comments from “fans” all saying hurtful things,

“Namjoon is seriously the worst leader. I mean does he even care about his members.”

“I thought idols were supposed to be attractive. Namjoon is the farthest thing from that.”

“Where did they find this guy? Namjoon has zero talent and is just bringing the whole group down.”

The more comments you read the more your heart shattered. How could anyone say such hurtful things? It was at this time that you heard a click come from behind you. Spinning around in the chair you saw Namjoon standing there. You braced yourself for him to be angry with you for snooping. You thought he’d yell or even ask you to leave. You were surprised when he slowly reach out for you and pulled you into a hug. He squeezed and held you close. You could feel his breath getting shaky as his tears slowly fell onto your skin.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I didn’t want you to know about it because I don’t want you to worry about me. You have enough to worry about without having to feel bad for me. I can handle it.”

You reached up and wiped the tears from his cheeks, “No Joonie, please don’t hide things like this from me. I want to be there for you. No matter what it is. Those people aren’t fans. No fan would willingly try and hurt you like that. You are so talented in so many ways and you’re the best leader. I see how you care for the guys so much every day and they come to you for everything. They clearly trust you as their leader.”

His frown started to turn up a little. “And I might be a little biased, but I happen to think you are the best looking idol out there. And judging by the numerous Namjoon fan accounts I follow I don’t think I’m the only one.” That got a little chuckle and a kiss out of him.

You know he still wasn’t 100% but you knew that with some time and extra love you could get him to see himself for the amazing talented guy that you saw. You shut down his computer so he woundn’t have to take a look at those comments again and grabbed all of your belongings. The two of you made your way out of the building hand in hand with you describing all the ways that you loved him making sure he believed every one of them.

[ollieofthebeholder]

And If Thou Wilt, Forget: a TMA Fanfic

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] || Also on AO3 and my personal website

Chapter 6: I live alone, I look to die alone

It was the first time since Emma’s death that Gertrude didn’t feel she needed to worry about how long she was away from the Archives.

She had begun to suspect in recent years that the key, or keys, to the Watcher’s Crown lay somewhere within the statements and files in her charge, and that Elias knew it as well, so whenever she was gone, she always found herself rushing rather to try and get back as quickly as possible. Jurgen Leitner living beneath the Institute, something she had no intention of telling either Tim or Gerard about, meant at least there was someone keeping an eye on it, but good Lord, the man was a coward of legendary proportions, and she wouldn’t put it past him to run if Elias threatened him. The sorts of things Elias was likely capable of—especially if her theory was correct—would truly be a fate worse than death to someone who had, inadvertent though it may have been, caused as much harm as Leitner had, so maybe it wasn’t wholly unwarranted.

Still, it had been a long time since she’d left someone behind she could really rely on, and she was going to take full advantage of Tim’s offer to handle things. He had a good mind, and his background in publishing—not to mention his acting talent—meant that he could produce incredibly bland, uninformative reports, whether they had a hidden report or not. At first she’d wondered if he was lying about how well things were going, but the fact that she’d received a slightly more excited report that the fancy computer Elias had initially installed in the Archives had caught fire, and that interspersed in that particular report was the hidden message It took all the digital records but only some of the false paper ones, told her that he was actually handling things well.

She’d pretended annoyance, but secretly been pleased, that he had attached a requisition form for an upgraded fire suppressant system in the Archives rather than wait for her to get home. Even if she wouldn’t be able to chase up on it until her return, it was good to get the ball rolling while she wasn’t distracted by immediate concerns.

The problem, as days stretched into weeks and weeks gave way to months, was how little she had found. Again and again there would be a tantalizing hint—here a whiff of something that might be the Stranger, there an incident involving a circus, everywhere the niggling sense that there was something to Know around the next corner—and again and again she would be disappointed. The potential for the Stranger in Paris had turned out to be a rather nasty bit of Corruption; the circus in New Zealand had yielded nothing but an avatar of the Flesh that very much did not consider her a friend but at the very least respected or feared her enough not to consider her food.

The farmer might have considered it a memorial to Toby, but she had looked at the smooth, cold grey concrete and felt a twinge of mourning for Adelard.

Their trip to the United States had been worse, because she felt the Stranger’s presence. More than once she’d heard faint, distant calliope music, but when she went out to investigate, it was always gone before she was able to pinpoint it. She’d even tried ignoring it for two nights before going out to catch it off-guard, but it seemed to know she was coming. Or she was hallucinating. It was possible—she wanted to find the Unknowing, and badly, and she was surprised at how much she wanted to believe it wasn’t in England—but not probable. More than likely the Stranger was taunting her.

At least, Gertrude thought, sipping pensively at the weak, lukewarm excuse for tea she’d got from the station shop, at least they had eliminated some things. The files she’d had Xiaoling pull for her, which would hopefully meet her in Washington instead of following one step behind her all around the world—the last thing she wanted was them going through the Institute—should illuminate details of the Risen War, and a part of her looked forward to being able to tell Tim he was wrong in the best way…or possibly right in the best possible way. And while they had certainly found more evidence of the Hunt’s power building in the wide open spaces at the middle of the United States, she was inclined towards Gerard’s theory that it wasn’t actually interested in completing its ritual.

Speaking of Gerard…

She jerked her tea out of the way as he twitched in his sleep next to her and frowned at him. It seemed as though he was having an incredibly unpleasant nightmare; while he wasn’t crying out—she’d never heard him do so—he was thrashing about, almost but not quite as though he was fighting something off. He was facing away from her, so she couldn’t tell if it was in fear or desperation or determination. She probably ought to wake him, but she also didn’t want to get hurt. After a moment’s deliberation, she took off her heavy woolen coat and draped it over him, hoping the weight would comfort him.

It seemed to work. After a few moments, the movements settled and stilled. Gertrude nodded to herself and took another sip of the tea, but before she could lose herself in her thoughts again, Gerard spoke in a hoarse, half-choked voice. “Fuck.”

“It’s all right, Gerard,” Gertrude said calmly. She was trying to stay out of his head, more because she didn’t want to lean too much into the Ceaseless Watcher unnecessarily than out of any kind of respect for his privacy, but she assumed he was either disturbed by the nightmare or embarrassed at having had it in public. “There’s no one about, and you didn’t hurt anyone.”

Gerard didn’t reply, simply struggled to a sitting position. Gertrude watched him out of the corner of her eye. He normally kept his emotions close to his chest, but there was no disguising the mingled hurt and resignation on his face, just for a moment, before he got himself under control. She pondered for a moment, then decided to give sympathy a try. She wasn’t great at it anymore, but she could make the effort.

“You’re safe,” she said in as reassuring a voice as she could. “It was only a nightmare.”

“I wish,” Gerard mumbled. He closed his eyes and rubbed at his temple slowly.

Gertrude noticed, with some surprise, that his fingers were trembling, ever so slightly. “A memory, then.”

Gerard started to shake his head, then winced and stopped with a faint groan. “Ugh. Do you have any aspirin or anything?”

“I’m afraid not.” It was, perhaps, an unpardonable oversight, but Gertrude rarely needed medications or painkillers, so she never thought to pick any up. “Do you not have any?”

“Took my last ones last night.”

“Well, there must be a shop somewhere in the station.” Gertrude glanced at the departure board. “And our train doesn’t leave for another hour.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Gerard started to stand, then fell back into his seat, his face somehow even paler than usual. He clutched at the armrest as if for support. “Give me a minute.”

Gertrude wasn’t one to worry. At least not about mundane things. The end of the world, the ascendancy of one of the Fourteen, the machinations of the Web—all of those were valid things to worry about. She rarely paid attention to petty concerns like holidays, or birthdays, or physical ailments, not even her own and especially not anyone else’s. Gerard could have walked into their rooms holding his own severed leg and she wouldn’t have cared beyond making sure it didn’t make him the keystone of a ritual. But it did occur to her that Gerard had had rather a lot of headaches lately, and that he seemed to be in a significant amount of pain.

Her first, selfish thought was that the Distortion was stalking them, that it was tormenting Gerard because it couldn’t touch her, but that thought was quickly overruled. Gerard knew the Fears almost as well as she did, and he wouldn’t have bothered with medications if it were something they wouldn’t help. This, then, had to be actual illness. Her natural inclination was to tell him to brace up, to remind him that they had work to do and no time for weakness. Perhaps, begrudgingly, she would get up and get those painkillers for him herself, less because she wanted to help and more because it would be faster than if she expected him to go himself in this state.

Something, however, stopped her, even as the words rose on her tongue. It might have been the way Gerard clung to the bench as if afraid it would move out from under him if he didn’t, his head tilted carefully to one side but not quite resting on his shoulder, an odd posture that looked as though he was patiently waiting for something to fall out of his ear. It might have been the fact that, despite being in so much pain he couldn’t stand or even see, he was bearing up without complaint—for fear, she knew without even needing the Eye’s power, that if he wasn’t useful she would discard him, either leaving him behind or killing him outright. It might have even been that she’d come this far and could hardly abandon her attempt at sympathy.

Possibly, though not likely, it might have been the fact that the station was beginning to fill up, and ignoring such an obviously ill person would have drawn more attention than simply helping him.

“Do you tend to have migraines?” she asked, keeping her voice as low and soft as she felt she could.

“No.” Gerard’s voice was a mere thread. “Not until the last few months. And I wouldn’t call them migraines exactly. Just really nasty headaches. It’ll ease up in a bit.”

Gertrude decided not to quibble about the medical terminology. “How frequent?”

“More and more often lately.”

“How would you describe them?”

Gerard smiled feebly. “Like someone’s trying to bore a hole in my brain with a really, really smooth rock.”

Gertrude thought for a minute. She was no medical professional, and while she could use the Eye to know what kind of headaches he was having, she would prefer not to. “Do they often correlate to…dreams or memories? Do you usually get them when you’re falling asleep?”

“Wh—oh.” Gerard bit his lip briefly. “I, uh, I wasn’t asleep.”

On the other end of the platform, the phone in the hands of a burly-looking man in a cap with a bear on the front burst to life, loudly playing a news report about some sort of sporting event or other. He cursed rather inventively, obviously not having expected that, and fumbled to try and turn the sound down. Gertrude was turning to offer to get the painkillers for Gerard after all when a single phrase slid into her ear and down her spine like a cold, metal lance.

In another universe, perhaps, she ignored it. In another universe, she dismissed it as a coincidence, continued with her original plan, and bought a travel-size bottle of Tylenol at an outrageous markup. In another universe, she boarded the train from Chicago to Pittsburgh and noticed nothing amiss for nearly two weeks before circumstances dictated otherwise.

But then, in another universe, she had stayed away from the obvious temptation of a statement that could possibly have made a difference in her plans and never actually met Timothy Rodolfo Stoker.

"You weren’t having a nightmare, were you?” she asked, her voice sharpening without conscious thought.

Gerard flinched, but answered honestly. “No.”

“Or a flashback of some kind.”

“No, just…” Gerard gestured vaguely with one hand. It had, at least, stopped shaking.

That didn’t make her feel any better. “Involuntary, uncontrollable movement. Has that happened before?”

“Two days ago,” Gerard admitted. “I didn’t black out or anything, and I figured…I mean, it was a pretty bad headache. Natural I should just hurt so much I couldn’t move right, yeah?”

Understandable, certainly, but Gertrude couldn’t shake the sudden conviction that there was something seriously wrong, something causing it. She watched him carefully tip his head up straight, then asked, “Does that help?”

“Yeah. Maybe. I dunno. Might be a placebo effect thing. But they always start here.” Gerard lightly touched a spot on the side of his skull. “First few times, it felt like someone was balancing a weight on my head, so I thought maybe if I leaned it the other way it’d ease up the pressure. And it kind of helps. A little. At any rate, it gives me something to concentrate on other than the pain.”

That settled it. There were simply too many red flags. Gertrude tightened her hand around the handle of her laptop bag. “Can you walk now?”

“I—I think so.”

“Good.” Gertrude stood decisively. “Come on.”

Gerard obeyed, a bit more slowly and gingerly, but without argument. He did look confused, though. “Thought our train didn’t leave for another hour or so.”

“Seventy-two minutes.” Gertrude didn’t bother telling him they wouldn’t be on it. She hoped that would become obvious shortly. Of course, it was possible they would be able to make it, but hardly likely. “Follow me.”

Gerard did, bewildered but obedient as usual. It had been his way since he’d started working with her, since she had burnt Mary Keay out of the Book of the Unnamed Dead and given him its remains. He never argued, never questioned, never refused an order. He trusted her implicitly in the field; while he might offer suggestions occasionally—not often—he never balked when she issued an order. If she had told him he was fine and that they should move on to Pittsburgh immediately, he would have trusted her without a moment’s thought, just as Michael Shelley once would have. Tim was more likely to push for what he felt was a better solution, but in the end, if she insisted, he would bow to her wishes without another murmur.

If she was being honest with herself, the irritation she felt at the thought was there to serve as a very powerful insulation against the well-deserved sense of guilt.

There was a line of taxis outside, valiantly fighting a battle against the encroaching rideshare start-ups offering nominally cheaper alternatives. Gertrude went to the third one in the queue and tapped on the window. “Are you engaged?”

“No, ma’am,” the driver said hopefully. He had a thick accent she couldn’t quite identify, except that it thankfully wasn’t Russian.

The Ceaseless Watcher pushed through the knowledge that the man was from a small village in India and was saving money to bring over his wife and four children, the youngest of whom had a genetic condition that would eventually prove fatal if not treated. Gertrude ruthlessly forced it back into isolation where she kept it.

“You are now.” Gertrude opened the back door and assisted Gerard into the seat, then slid in as well and shut the door. “The nearest hospital. Quickly.”

The area of Chicago known as the Illinois Medical District was less than two miles from Union Station, and the driver, whose name proved to be Prashant, came around to help get Gerard into the emergency room. He tried to refuse the fare, but Gertrude pressed a hundred dollar bill into his hand, despite his protestations.

“For your family,” she told him. He didn’t argue after that. Only later would she realize she had spoken to him in Maithili.

The nurse behind the desk was polite but obviously harried. The waiting room was occupied but not overfull, so Gertrude estimated their wait would be no longer than an hour, a time frame corroborated as the forms were handed over and to which both she and Gerard acquiesced without complaint. She gave the forms to Gerard to fill out and sat next to him, ready to assist as necessary but hoping she wouldn’t be needed.

She used the opportunity to look around, feeling around with senses born of long years of practice and immersion in the Fourteen for any hints of the Fears on their fellow occupants. She ignored the sparse staff for the moment; even knowing how few, relatively speaking, genuine encounters there actually were, she knew medical staff were among the most likely to have encountered them. Survivors, after all, often needed treatment. Her interest was more in the patients, who would have more recent encounters—more direct ones—and therefore would be more likely to be dangerous, or perhaps to sustain her. She didn’t enjoy compelling live statements out of people, but she was beginning to grow tired and needed a bit of a lift. In absence of the statements she was expecting from Pu Songling, someone in America she would never meet again would do.

There wasn’t much, though, which didn’t surprise her. An old man with a crying child on his lap, his expression worried and tender as he pressed an ice pack to the girl’s eye, bore traces of the Slaughter, but the hat boldly proclaiming his status as a veteran of a war that had ended forty years previously gave an explanation for that and also suggested it wasn’t recent enough to attract her. The Dark lay heavily on the shoulders of a patient clutching his stomach and rocking slightly, but he appeared to be about ten years old and the woman sitting next to him, whom Gertrude took to be his mother, did not seem the type to allow him to speak to unknown adults. The most promising source was the woman sitting in the corner amidst a swirl of the Lonely, but before Gertrude could even think about standing, a nurse came out and called for a Latasha Brown, and the woman got up and drifted quietly through the back.

Beside her, Gerard rubbed his face with his free hand, blinking hard. Gertrude normally wouldn’t have bothered to say anything—he could ask if he wanted her help—but since she was apparently being honest with herself today, she knew he wouldn’t. “Do you need assistance, Gerard?”

“Please. I’m seeing triple.” Gerard slid the clipboard and pen towards her.

He had filled out his true name and date of birth, something she would ordinarily chastise him for. Indeed, she had started to before it occurred to her that, with the cost and state of health care in the United States, he would need to give his actual information in order to not have to sell everything he owned to afford whatever was coming. She swallowed the protest and began filling out the remainder of the paperwork.

Address, employment, insurance information, emergency contact…Gertrude hesitated over that one. The obvious name to put was her own, especially since she was here. She could claim to be his mother, perhaps—say she had kept her maiden name—or perhaps an aunt; some kind of relative, at any rate. And medical privacy laws meant that she certainly wouldn’t get any information out of the doctors or nurses if she wasn’t his emergency contact.

On the other hand, she had the ability to convince people to tell her anything she wanted. Gerard would be more likely to forgive her using the Eye than an outright lie, especially given his…complicated relationship with his mother.

She printed Tim’s name and mobile phone number in the blanks. In the space reading Relationship to Patient, she hesitated for no more than a split second before writing Domestic Partner.

The second page dealt more with the medical information—allergies, family history, and reason for visit. She glanced sideways at Gerard. “Do you want me to ask you about these, or just fill it out?”

“Ask. Please. I’ve got enough of a headache as it is.”

Gertrude ticked the box labeled Headache, then went back to the top of the page. Gerard gave soft, monotone answers to her questions, and she marked and scribbled as quickly and neatly as she could. Some things she didn’t need to ask about, but she methodically went over everything else. At last, she handed the stack back. “You have to sign, I’m afraid.”

Gerard barely opened his eyes enough to see the page, so Gertrude placed her finger at the start of the lines. He scrawled his signature, which ended in a complex sigil that warded against it being used to harm him in any way, then sat back in the chair and leaned his head gingerly against the wall. She checked to make sure he was breathing, then went up to the desk to turn in the clipboard. The nurse accepted it without really looking.

“Have a seat, and we’ll be with you as soon as we can,” she said, in a voice that was more than half mechanical.

Gertrude glanced at the clock behind her desk and noted that they likely had another forty-five minutes, at minimum, before it would be their turn, and that only if someone more critical didn’t come in ahead of them. She returned to her seat beside Gerard, folded her arms over her chest, and settled in to wait.

Her eyes drifted to the television mounted in the corner, tuned to a news program, the volume muted and the closed captioning about thirty seconds behind the audio, if the reporters’ lips were to be believed. The camera switched from the studio to a sporting event of some kind, roughly a dozen young women in shorts and sleeveless jerseys running around some sort of indoor court—she wasn’t a sports aficionado and couldn’t have named the game precisely. The play all seemed to be focused around one particular player, a young and frail-looking girl barely out of her childhood with a hopeful smile and a look in her eye Gertrude knew far too well—the one her mother had called in sight of the silent lands. According to the captions scrolling across the screen, this was meant to be an inspiring, feel-good story.

Gertrude felt nothing but a niggling, incredibly irritating sense of dread.

The door opened, and another nurse appeared and called for Jordan Westburg; the boy with the stomachache stood alongside his mother and limped, whimpering with every step, towards the exam rooms. Gertrude watched him go impassively, but Gerard made a small noise of sympathy. “Hope it’s not his appendix. That’s no fun.”

“Likely his hasn’t progressed as far as yours had.” Mary had rarely bothered with her son’s physical health until it became an inconvenient crisis, a fact that would possibly have spurred Gertrude to seek assistance for Gerard sooner had she known about it.

No more than a minute passed before the door opened again. “Gerard Keay?” the nurse called, emphasizing the second syllable of his first name in the American fashion and turning his surname into a two-syllable name.

“That was fast.” Gerard pushed himself to his feet and staggered; Gertrude caught his arm and assisted him towards the waiting nurse.

“Excuse me!” A man in a tailored suit with an elaborate comb-over made a show of looking at his flashy, expensive watch before glaring up at the nurse. “I have been waiting for two hours—”

“Congratulations!” the nurse interrupted without missing a beat, not even looking in the direction of the man, who blinked at the unexpected comment. “That means you’re not dying today!”

Gertrude assisted Gerard in walking a little faster.

It was the mention of seizures that had moved him up the list, a fact Gertrude learned from the questions the doctor—after Gerard’s mumbled assent to her remaining in the room while the examination took place—asked of him. After a cursory examination, another nurse came in with a wheelchair and Gertrude was left in a hallway to wait while Gerard was taken to be prepared for an MRI.

She sat silently for a while, listening to the sounds around her—the occasional page over the intercom, the squeak of gurney wheels, the low murmur of voices as nurses and orderlies conversed, and the incessant tick…tick…tick of the clock opposite her—as she tried to get her thoughts in order. Gerard was ill. That much was clear. The MRI would find…something. With a bit of effort, she could Know what was wrong, but that would be a violation of his privacy for no real purpose, so she would leave it for if the doctors failed to diagnose it, and then…what? Force them to treat the situation, even though they found no evidence of it? She supposed that would have to be her next course of action. Since she found the very idea distasteful, she sincerely hoped the doctors would be able to find the truth.

It occurred to her, very suddenly, that she had no ties to Gerard. She hadn’t listed herself as his emergency contact, and even though she had brought him in, privacy laws meant that the doctors likely wouldn’t tell her what was wrong with him. They may not even let her in to visit him. She was fairly certain it wouldn’t come to that, and she could deal with it if it did, but…

There were no signs forbidding cell phone usage in this part of the hospital, likely because it was a waiting area. Gertrude fished out her phone, calculated the time, and pressed one of the preset buttons.

A moment later, Tim’s voice came on the line, clear and alert despite the relatively late hour in London. “What do you need, boss?”

It was a question that could have come across as rude, depending on the tone, but Gertrude appreciated the economy of words. No greetings, no pleasantries, no small talk; just get down to business and handle the situation. He knew she wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important, and that it was likely something time sensitive.

She, too, wasted neither time nor words. “You. Get the next flight out of London arriving in Chicago. Send me a text when you land and I’ll let you know where we are.”

“Got it. Need me to bring anything?”

“Just yourself. And that folio I gave you before we left London.” Gertrude hesitated, then chose to be honest. “It’s Gerard. He’s ill.”

Tim gave a hissing little intake of breath. “How bad?”

“Severe headaches, and he’s had at least two seizures. He’s in for an MRI now. I put you down as his emergency contact on the paperwork, so I need you here to assist if need be.”

“I’m on my way.” Rustling sounds and footsteps did in fact seem to imply that Tim was grabbing a bag and running out the door. “I’ll text you the flight details. Tell him I’m coming, okay?”

“I will,” Gertrude said, although it was a promise she wasn’t sure she would be able to keep. “I’ll be looking out for your text.”

The line went dead without further ado.

Gertrude sighed and sat back. She could hardly leave the hospital until Tim arrived, and she would certainly not be so unkind as to leave Gerard alone in a foreign land with a medical condition, but she did rather chafe at the timing. Still, it could have been worse. They could have arrived too late.

They still might have, but at least this way she would know she had done all she could.

Her phone buzzed, startling her, with the information for Tim’s flight. Evidently he had purchased his tickets on the way to the airport. She nodded, committing the time to memory, then sent him a text in reply: [Remember to keep your receipts for any purchases you make on Institute business so they can be reimbursed later.]

[Don’t think Elias is going to pay me back for this.]

[He will.] Gertrude didn’t elaborate. She only settled back and sighed, pocketing her phone once more.

It would be seventeen hours before Tim arrived. Hopefully he would be in time. She wouldn’t want to get Gerard’s hopes up only to have them dashed, or to leave him stressed and worried before whatever was about to happen. He would need all his strength to concentrate on himself.

She prayed it would be enough.

[everybodyshusband]

...i know i made a post about not doing @kroas-adtam's kinktober because i'm going to be too busy but in my defence i was left alone with a computer ...i have no excuse

kinktober ; day one, tentacles ❤︎ mist/terzo

cw. light puppy play, small dick humiliation, personification of tentacles

approx. 850 words.

“Mist,” Terzo moans, fisting the bedsheets below him in a futile attempt to keep himself in check. “Fuck, amour, la mia ninfa, please. Do something. Touch me, please.”

“Why would I,” Mist lilts from where she’s straddling him and grinding down on his clothed cock, “when you sound so pretty begging for me to touch you?” She sounds infuriatingly composed for a ghoul who’s been grinding a dick against her dripping pussy for what feels like forever.

In reality, it’s most likely only been about an hour. The water ghoulette grinding down on the third Emeritus, his back resting against his own ornate bed frame, clutching at the pillows surrounding them both as he struggles to obey the no touching rule that’s been imposed upon him since the two of them began. At least Mist had the courtesy to strip Terzo down to his boxers before she began, he’d have overheated by now otherwise. Despite her cooling, aquatic nature, Mist certainly has a talent for getting Terzo hot and bothered like no other.

“On the other hand, though,” she continues, still apparently unfazed by her own desire. “Maybe I should reward you for begging so prettily… Give you a treat, eh, boy?” The way she places careful inflection in her voice and her change in tone drives Terzo crazy.

He inhales sharply at the—rather literal—pet name. He’s helpless to being treated this way, it gets his dick hard just thinking about it.

He thinks his cock must kick against Mist as he takes her words in and imagines all the possible ways this situation could progress, because she looks down her nose at him, throws her head back, and laughs. “Ohh, you like that idea, puppy? You want a reward for being such a good boy for me?” She punctuates each sentence with a sharp roll of her hips, directional enough that if neither of them were clothed, Terzo’s cock would have no doubt slipped into Mist’s hot cunt.

He sobs at the denial. He thinks he hears a stitch rip, his hands have fisted the sheets too tightly for the fabric to handle. As Mist shifts off of him, Terzo sobs again, but his misery is quickly soothed as she slides his boxers down his legs, throwing the unwanted garment across his room for the third Emeritus to find at a later date. His cock slaps against his stomach as it’s freed from its fabric prison, immediately creating a sticky mess.

When Mist climbs back onto him without removing her own underwear—besides her sheer bralette, of which Terzo is immensely grateful; he’d worship her tits all day if given the chance—and this time straddling his thighs rather than his lap, his confusion must be obvious

“Wh… Wha–?”

“Shh,” Mist immediately cuts him off with a gentle finger against his lips. She leans in a little farther than strictly necessary and her tits brush against his own chest. If he perished right now, he’d die a happy man. “Good puppies don’t speak unless spoken to.”

Terzo whines, longing for an answer to his unspoken question.

Thankfully, Mist is a kind being and grants him an answer without him needing to voice his query. “Oh, Papa… I’m not going to fuck you.” She remains unperturbed by Terzo’s distressed sob. “She is.”

The water ghoulette pulls her own boxers to the side allowing her tentacle to snake out at its own pace.

At the sight of it, Terzo is unable to restrain himself from talking. “I– It’s so pretty, mia ninfa…”

“It?” Mist demands, looking angry enough to slap him across the face at his disrespect of her, and his refusal to remain silent.

“She,” he clarifies, terrified of Mist’s wordless threats and more than a little turned on. “She is so pretty.” He hesitates before speaking out again, weighing up the dangers of being punished versus the benefits of complimenting his love. “Big, too. You– You should be proud of her, mia ninfa…”

The water ghoulette smiles down at him smugly. “I am proud, puppy. And yes, I agree. She’s much bigger than you could ever hope to be, isn’t she?”

Before the third Emeritus can even begin to think of a response to Mist’s taunts, her tentacle snakes up between them both until it reaches Terzo’s cock, coiling itself around him and squeezing with enough force to make him gasp out a moan. “M– Mist, amour, she– She feels so– Shit! She feels so good.” His eyes squeeze shut as Mist’s tentacle begins to stroke his cock, pulsating around it with every upstroke.

It’s an embarrassingly short amount of time before he’s thrusting up into Mist’s tentacle’s grip, begging and pleading Mist to show him mercy, let him cum for being such a good puppy for her earlier. She hums, unswayed. “It’s not me you have to convince, puppy.” Her tone remains miraculously bored, as if she’s completely unaffected by her actions; Terzo may not know much about water ghoul anatomy, but he knows she’s gaining pleasure from this somehow. “Don’t ask me, pretty thing. Ask her.”

[lloydfrontera]

So I think it's pretty well established that one of the biggest sins of Lloyd and Alicia's relationship is that they just don't interact enough to justify them being endgame.

So imagine an au where Suho get's transmigrated into the body of a palace servant instead of Lloyd Frontera. He'd still be forced to work hard and bust out his civil engineering knowledge to make money because I assume palace servants are mostly paid in room & board. But of course Alicia would notice this talent and want to keep him close. And since Suho doesn't have a Barony to go back to, he has no reason to turn down her jobs as long as she keeps paying him. (This is going off of the novel's characterization of her where she tells Lloyd that she isn't a tyrant and won't force him to work if he doesn't want to).

Plus I'm positive she suffers from Swordmaster Syndrome like Javier, so Suho would definitely offer her his lullaby service in order to gain some sort of leverage over her as well. There could even be rumors that the two are actually sleeping together and that's why Suho keeps getting jobs and titles. It would be really funny if whatever body Suho transmigrated into was just as plainfaced as Lloyd and the entire court is throwing a tantrum over it. Especially if Alicia is completely unbothered by it as she has spent her entire life surrounded by stupid and petty rumors. And since anything relating to romance is one of the few things that can fluster Suho, I could see him being secretly bothered by these rumors, even though he tries to hide it. This could then force Alicia to grow an empathy bone and help this man she has genuinely grown to trust and care about, and maybe even love.

As their relationship and level of trust progresses, I think it would be different enough from Lloyd's relationship with Javier to be interesting. Where Lloyd has to reestablish, for lack of a better word, trust with Javier and then prove that he would make first a good lord and then a good friend (and lover lol). Whereas with Alicia Suho would not only have to prove himself to her, but also overcome the huge power imbalance and status between the two of them. That could actually be a great way to visualize how close their growing as Suho rises in noble status to become closer and closer to her equal.

Speaking of Javier, if the restoration of fate is still a threat he might wind up being one of the main protagonists. Because Suho wasn't transmigrated into LLoyd, he wouldn't have saved the Barony so Javier begins his journey as the lone protagonist destined to lose virtually everyone and everything he ever loved. But also Suho wasn't there to build up his trust with him, so when Javier learns that either he or Suho has to die or else the entire continent is screwed, he has no reason to believe that Suho isn't some loose cannon threat. But by this point he has gained the trust with Alicia and there is no way she is letting Javier kill the man she loves. Maybe she orders Javier's execution/suicide, but would the other nobles/kingdoms allow that after Javier has spent years as a wandering hero? So now Suho is left with three options; 1. Die, 2. Somehow find a way to kill the most overpowered man in history, 3. Let everyone he knows and loves die, mostly at the hands of the woman he loves the most.

god. when are you dropping the fic again.

this is a way more compelling way to make me interested in alloyd than anything bk moon ever wrote. what the hell.

personally i cannot handle the idea of lloyd and javier not being close in any way shape or form it literally doesn't compute in my head but. this is so fucking good i can ignore the screeching little gremlin in my brain.

just a comment, i don't think alicia suffers from swordmaster syndrome. she's already a swordmaster by the time the novel starts, she probably powered through her insomnia and then learned how to shut down her augmented senses to fall asleep just like javier expected to be able to do when he became a swordmaster. javier just had the misfortune of becoming reliant on the lullaby service and then was unable to quit it once he already experienced it. alicia didn't rely on it before she was swordmaster and so suho wouldn't have been able to leverage it against her once she was.

but everything else is fucking amazing i love it <3

[chickenstrangers]

2023 gifs in review tag game

tagged by @khaotunq (here!) to post my favorite/most popular gifs throughout the year. thank you!!🩵🩵🩵

I only started making gifs partway through this year, so there was a big learning curve and i still think i'm pretty newbie but it has been a lot of fun and it's nice looking back on how much i think i've improved, though i have so much left to learn next year

i am going to ramble too much because this is my post, fair warning, forgive my self indulgence

april

this was the very beginning, back in the photopea days before i tried photoshop (i am still quite fond of photopea, 1. because it is free and 2, for stills i think it's just as good as photoshop, but i could never figure out how to make gifs look good with its dithering system. i have seen some remarkable gifmakers using photopea tho so that's a my limited skill problem, and i'm glad i used it to dip my toes into the process!)

i only posted 1 set for abaab this month which looks not good but is still a very fun scene, but this was not actually the first thing i made (see below).

may

most popular: msp finale, tinn knowing all the words to gun's song <3

favorite: moonlight chicken, my first ever gifset and the reason i got into gifmaking because i wanted to capture the way moonlight chicken visually returned to locations and shots to underline its theme of loneliness being replaced by community, which is the mlc repetitions series

june

most popular & favorite: kiss me again (2018) and the lovely way june say's goodby to his friends (i learned how to add text to gifs for this one, and not only that but timed text! i thought it would get like 5 notes. it's very messy and doesn't look great, but i'm proud that i learned something with it, and i think its very funny and that's all that matters to me)

july

it's photoshop time now!! photoshop beloved you make such beautiful gifs and also you are So Slow and my computer cannot handle you.

most popular: only friends original trailer set

favorite: jimwen looking at each other set (the start of my most belovedest of series, the followup to the first ever meta i wrote)

august

most popular: part 1 of the can't i look at you edits, cool tones edition

favorite: part 2 of the can't i look at you edits, warm toned edition (i love them both but this has two of my all time favorite wen faces)

hey its my profile picture and also i find it very funny that the Os line up with his eyes, and the second gif i love how impossibly happy they look

september

my busiest month in terms of gifs, in large part due to only friends

most popular: topmew and fire

favorite: alanwen poetry edit i spent soooo long learning keyframes for the heartbeat effect and then the ghosting effect was a happy accident thank you person in the background walking past at the right moment

(i also love my charn laws of attraction set because he was a surprise favorite character this year, i loved collecting the quotes for how he speaks of himself)

october

most popular: only friends sandray finale parallel set (it is. very very close to 1k which is. so many).

favorite: he's coming to me edit because it was so fun to make for @dudeyuri

november

most popular: not me sean and black getting along super duper well!

favorite: moonlight chicken haunted house edit, accompanying this meta/creative writing thing. i loved choosing liminal feeling shots for it and i liked how the simple typography turned out

december

most popular: a little jim and wen set i am very fond of

favorite: the moonlight chicken new years set i posted today. i love this little chicken diner

hey look i managed to mention moonlight chicken almost every month (i swear, i watched so many favorite shows this year but i loved making mlc gifs so much)

and that's that! thanks for reading if anyone read til the end.

no pressure tags for some amazingly talented creators who have made some of my favorite sets this year (if you feel like talking about some of your highlights, whether monthly or not, because you all make so much incredible work and i'd love to hear about it) : @hoppipolla @sollucets @icouldhyperfixatehim @celestial-sapphicss @chinzhilla @krystaljungs @moonkhao and anyone who wants to, consider yourself tagged <3

[thedeafprophet]

#1 and #7 for the art asks? (from @neathyingenue btw ;D)

1.When did you start creating art?

I would argue that everyone, always, and forever is making art in their own invidual unique ways. while we may have certain perspectives on various art forms, i think to create is simply part of being human.

....if u wanna know when i started drawing i would say maybe around 13/14 was when i frist started sketching? I was never one of those kids who's been 'drawing since they could hold a pencil' or whatever. I never really had any natural inflication towards drawing - as a younger kid i spent more of my creative time building structures out of popsicle sticks and whatever else i got my hands on.

When i was in my preteens/early teens, i mostly started trying to draw because my friends at the time were all doing it and i felt left out 😅😅 it was a bit of an uphill climb starting from a place with less experience and no natural talent for it.

I sorta clawed my way up from there, trying and failing since then. The real skill of an artist isn't drawing in my mind; its continuing to work at it even when you feel like it sucks.

I only really have my digital art saved back to when i was 18, but i started doing it a bit before then. And it was only in the last few years that I really feel like ive gotten a handle on how I draw, where i've ever felt solidly good about things i create, even if i still struggle with self esteem. Its funny what having a muse, so to speak, in your own characters will do for your art.

hmm. this. turned into a ramble. apologies lmao

All that is too say: For awhile and with determination to not back down from it.

7. Who are some artists that have inspired you?

So when I was 13 I was like, really really into Skyrim. Like. A lot lmao. (And one of the first things i really tried learning how to draw was my skyrim character. )

Anyway, the point of this is that my biggest art influence when i was a kid was Kayla Marquez/thewickwheat on tumblr, who used to do a lot of skyrim oc art, and was very inspirational for me learning how to draw. I feel you can probably still see remenants of that past in the way i draw now. I still seriously recommend checking her stuff out, her character design and linework is phenomoinal to me to this day.

I would say one of my current inspirations, of which im sure is no surprise, is J.C Leyendecker. Specifically in the way he draws clothing. While we obviously have quite different styles, i found our form when it comes to cloothing folds to feel somewhat similar, so i find using his stuff to be very inspirational when it comes to how i approach clothes now, especially suits and shirts.

Beyond that its like... so many artists. Honestly i'd need a whole seperate ramble of a poss just for that alone, and i've already rambled. I have hundreds of photos done by various artists i like saved and sorted across different artstyles on my computer to look at and Be Inspired By. I would say now adays i take a lot of inspiration from Edwardian and Victorian era paintings in general, as im drawing the topics of those contents quite a lot.

Ask Game From Here!

[lorcaswhisky]

What's Past is Prologue

I had never watched any Star Trek before 2017. It wasn't something that seemed like it was for me, it wasn't something that had ever really appealed, even. I wish I could say that I decided to watch Discovery because I wanted to broaden my horizons, or even just out of a sense of general curiosity, to try something a little different - the honest truth is that I'd heard Jason Isaacs had been cast as a captain, and Gersha Phillips (thank you, Gersha) had costumed him in tight blue lycra.

I thought I knew precisely 2 (two) things about Star Trek at this point: the captains were always uncomplicated good guys, and the shows were a fairly sedate, gentle romp. In my naivety, I thought it would be a nice, relaxing way to spend 45 minutes a week, admiring his bottom enjoying a performance by an actor whose talent I greatly admire.

Ahem.

I couldn't have been more wrong. First of all, relaxing and sedate and gentle and uncomplicated it was not. Secondly - it turned out I'd fallen hard for the characters and the whole, huge Trek universe well before Lorca and his tight trousers ever showed up in episode three, and it was a love that lasted long after his unceremonious dumping into the mycelial core.

I realised I was in trouble when I switched my computer background to a Discovery-era tricorder blueprint, but looking back, my descent was a gradual and steady one. I wandered down the lore rabbithole - what was that reference? Who's that pointy eared bastard? Wait wait wait there are different universes??? - and before I knew it, I was completely and utterly hooked. I'd fallen in love with Sonequa Martin-Green's performance, with the slow unfurling of this complicated, brilliant character, and the stories of her warmth and leadership on set. I'd fallen in love with the absurd plotlines, with the gorgeous costumes (thank you, Gersha), with the stunning visuals and design. I'd fallen in love with Star Trek, of all things. I wasn't supposed to fall in love with Star Trek!

I'm still feeling a lot of sadness about the announcement that it's ending, and anger about the way it's been handled - but instead of dwelling too much on that, I suppose I just wanted to share some of the ripples Discovery started for me. It unlocked something in my writing brain after a decade of block, long after I'd given up hope of ever writing again. The openness of the cast helped me to finally feel comfortable in my own queer identity. And most importantly, I've made some incredible, wonderful friends because of it. I know I'm not the only one. The show might be ending, but those ripples will keep going long after the theme tune plays for the final time.

Discovery is a heartfelt, frustrating, glorious tangle of a show, and I'm going to miss it so very much.

[spewagepipe]

Plumbing the Depths: Low Trust "Traditional", Part 2: GM vs Rules

The first thing to address is the claim about "the whole point of the referee" in the fourth paragraph. This is an important question in general: why should an RPG have a Game Master at all, when non-RP games rarely have anything of the kind?

Hamilton's case for the GM constantly flirts with a kind of Thermian Argument. The GM, we are told, is a "source of higher fidelity rulings", but fidelity to what? The GM can prevent "fictionally inauthentic results", but how does one gauge the authenticity? He says the GM's rulings often have a "higher degree of specificity" – but specific TO WHAT, Justin?

The repeated implication is that there's a certain "true" or "correct" version of the diegesis (the fictional universe) that the GM is enforcing. You can't trust this task to the rules because rules are blind and unthinking: the rules don't know which diegesis is correct, they can't tell when the game is threatening to deviate from the correct one, and they can't adjust or adapt to prevent the deviation. Only a human GM can handle these tasks. 

But where does this "correct" diegesis come from? 

Why, from the GM, of course. 

And this is the reason why Hamilton's GM can ensure such high fidelity, such authenticity, such specificity. It's not because the human brain is actually any better suited to computing these things than rules would be – indeed, the human brain is a deeply flawed instrument prone to bias, moodiness, pettiness, ignorance, prejudice, incompetence, faulty recall, and poor judgment under pressure. Instead, it's because Hamilton is using the GM's preconceptions as the measure of success. He's concocted a test where the correct answer to every question is "whatever the GM is currently thinking of".

But if, instead, we measure success by some other goal, like:

whose diegesis is the most immersive?

whose narrative is the most emotionally compelling?

whose challenges have the most strategic depth?"

Then we suddenly find that a well-tuned rules system provides such competitive results that it takes an especially skilled and even-tempered GM to measure up. And while FKR games are living and dying on the talents of their individual GMs, those of us who have turned to rules-driven RPGs are meanwhile enjoying a far greater measure of consistency and reliability – sometimes without the presence of any GM at all.

Which brings us right back to my original question: why have a GM?

Well at least blorb has a very straightforward answer: the GM is a spoiler-filter. Players of a blorby RPG could just read the prep documents directly and adjudicate themselves – but letting the GM adjudicate will preserve mysteries and surprises.

Actually, that seems pretty good to me – no notes.

[stargazer-sims]

Celebrity Crush

Haru: Mmm… look at you, baby. The Watcher must’ve put every ounce of artistry she has into creating you. I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful in my entire life, and you’re super talented and even sort of famous. But, would you take a second glance at me? Like, would I even be in your league?

Taiji: What’s up with you, Haru?

Haru: Hmm…?

Taiji: I just said your name like four times.

Haru: Oh. Sorry. I was distracted.

Taiji: I can tell. You’re staring at your computer like you want to make love to it. What’s that all about?

Haru: I think I just met my new boyfriend. Well… not ‘met’ exactly, but I’m stalking all his social media accounts, so I feel like I’m getting to know him a little.

Taiji: Yeah… that’s not creepy at all.

Haru: What? The internet is a public place. I can follow whoever I want and look at their pictures.

Taiji: Shopping centers and train stations are public places too, but you wouldn’t stalk anyone there, would you?

Haru: That’s different. That actually would be creepy. Anyway, I’m not just following him on his socials. I sent him a message on Simstagram.

Taiji: Did you? Was it appropriate?

Haru: Of course it was, and I used my best English.

Taiji: You are aware your English sucks, right?

Haru: I know, but I didn’t know if he’d understand if I wrote it in Japanese. I mean, his socials are mostly in English or Korean, so…

Taiji: Okay. Fair enough.

Haru: He already replied, and his English is so good. Like, I feel dumb and ugly in comparison to him, ‘cause he’s so smart and beautiful and delicate and… ahh! He’s perfect.

Taiji: Are you looking at his Simstagram now? Let me see.

Haru: Just look at this sweet, sexy baby.

Taiji: That’s a guy? Looks like a woman to me.

Haru: He does not look like a woman! Here, look at this picture. Does this not scream ‘sex appeal’? Look at what he’s wearing.

Taiji: is he figure skating? Weird.

Haru: it’s not weird. He’s won medals at world-class events. Okay, here’s another picture where you can see his angelic little face. My heart… I can’t handle the exquisiteness.

Taiji: Wait… I think I’ve seen him before. Isn’t that one of the people from our new hair and makeup guy’s portfolio?

Haru: Yeah. It’s his brother, actually. Remember, Charlie told us that?

Taiji: I guess I wasn’t paying attention.

Haru: His name is Eden. Isn’t that totally fitting? I looked it up, and it means ‘paradise’ and ‘a state of perfect happiness’.

Taiji: Uh… cool?

Haru: You could try to show at least a little enthusiasm. I mean, I get that you’re not into boys, but you know I’m into sexy people of pretty much any gender, so like, maybe make an effort to support my interests?

Taiji: Which are, specifically?

Haru: Um… wild sex, mostly. But, I think maybe I could have something more with this one. I could get to know him and like, actually be his boyfriend and not just his boy toy.

Taiji: You know what they say. It’s good to have goals.

Haru: I have to meet him, Taiji. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and I feel like I might lose my mind if I don’t get to see him in person.

Taiji: I think you’ve already lost your mind.

Haru: Shut up! This is serious.

Taiji: So, when Charlie officially starts working with the stylist team, why don’t you ask him to introduce you? Or maybe just ask what’s-his-name directly, since you’re apparently already messaging each other on Simstagram.

Haru: It’s Eden. His name is Eden. You think he’d want to meet me? I mean, he’s kind of a celebrity.

Taiji: Seriously, Haru? Are you even listening to yourself right now? You are a freakin’ celebrity, dude. This guy’s practically nobody.

Haru: That’s not true! He’s a world famous athlete, and he’s definitely somebody.

Taiji: Okay, whatever.

Haru: *dramatic* I’ll find a way to meet him and win his heart somehow.

Taiji: Good luck with that.

Haru: You don’t care about my fragile heart, do you? Ugh… you’re so mean.

Taiji: Does that mean I’m not invited to the wedding?

Haru: You’re definitely not invited. Only people who respect our love will be invited to our wedding.

Taiji: Here’s a thought. How about you meet him first. If it does turn into something and you actually do get married some day, you can think about my extremely logical suggestion of asking Charlie to introduce you. Maybe then you’ll change your mind about whether I should be invited or not.

[hopeymchope]

Hey!

The Junko ask you did reminded me of my own concept where the THH cast use magic alongside weaponry that may be related to their talent or character. Do you have any ideas for everyone except Makoto and Junko, as I already have stable ideas for them?

More specifically,

Leon, Mondo, Sakura, Aoi, and Mukuro are more physical (warriors,)

Kyoko, Byakuya, Chihiro, and Celestia are more magical (mages,)

and Sayaka, Kiyotaka, Hifumi, Yasuhiro, and Toko plus Jack are balanced between physical and magical attacks.

I'm SO sorry for the late reply! I saved an in-progress answer to this a few weeks ago and then uh... I went through some surgery and my S.O. had surgery and basically I lost all track of the fact that this happened.

So. Uh yeah. This is probably too late to add useful suggestions to your concept, as you've likely already cemented a lot more characters in the interim. EVEN SO: Can I offer you an extremely late answer in this trying time?

Obviously Leon has to have a bat or club, right? Even though he'd probably resent it at first... ? Lol. But he'd be excellent at it all the same. Might feel cool to incorporate some loud singing/yelling in a very "punk rock" style into a couple attacks, too. Or is that anachronistic to your setting?

Mukuro can use literally anything, but I feel projectile weapons are the most logical thing for her (besides just a combat-centric knife, which feels too bland/basic). I don't have any idea how medieval OR modern you're making this reality, so: Perhaps she wields a gun, a crossbow, or just a regular bow?

Sakura needs to be the character that ONLY uses their fists and actual martial arts moves. There's always at least one of those in RPGs, y'know. The "Black Belt in Final Fantasy 1"-type character. Or the "Chie in Persona 4," if you prefer.

It's easy to picture Chihiro using some sort of visual equivalent to computing/hacking. Therefore, Chihiro could cast a spell that makes squares and/or cubes appear to float through the air (representations of screen pixels and/or algorithm geometry), which expand into a fractal image that reaches over and builds itself up THROUGH the target, for example, causing damage by impaling them with the fractal. If you don't know what I mean by a random computer-generated fractal, just imagine something like this rapidly growing out from Chihiro's spell to attack the enemy:

5. Pretty easy to figure out Genocide(r) Jack/Syo would use small blades such as scissors or, if that's not logical for your setting, then some knives. But when she's regular ol' Toko, how about she whips out a notebook and starts frantically writing with a pen, only for the words to float off of the page and then fly right into her opponent?

6. I've been thinking about how Asahina might fight, and I'm not sure what to do with her. I figure she might use her legs a lot like a Chun-Li-type because swimming has built up her kicking strength. And we see her practice a few punches in DR3, though we only see her fight using some kind of pipe/rebar/metal thing when confronting Juzo. I imagine she wouldn't use a strictly defined "style"; it'd be more of a hodgepodge of homemade attacks she concocts.

7. Mondo? Punching/boxing and would probably also wield a tire iron/axel. Simple.

8. Hagakure is similarly easy. He can conjure (y'know, do some quick prayer or swirl a hand over an artifact or something) some kind of visible magic (I'm picturing a generic swirling smoke or beam of light; pretty standard stuff) using his crystal balls and other weird possessions. .... Hopefully his attacks are better than 30% effective :P I don't have a vision of how he'd work with performing physical attacks, though... ?

9. I don't know how to handle Kyoko's "magic." Is there some way to visualize the "magic" of someone just being intelligent and using logical deduction? I can't quite grok how to do it. We do know she has some physical fighting skill, however, because of the time she fought Masked Junko off in Naegi's room in DR1. And I can picture how she'd work as a physical fighter: extremely minimalist. She'd so reserved as a person that I think her fighting style would be similarly reserved. She would stand there with her arms crossed, looking unready, and would barely move when actually attacking/fighting. You know, just casually stroll up and then swat an enemy with the back of her fist. Or just stand still and barely sidestep to dodge, then pivot before sending out a very basic forward kick to hit the opponent. It would almost look lazy, but it's actually extremely calculated. Y'know?

10. Maizono would have to have some magic involving music, naturally. Y'know... in season 1 of the Magia Record anime, we saw another Sayaka — Sayaka Miki — use music-based magic for healing. She can sing/hum/play songs that generate visible musical notes as a form of magic. I think it'd be cool if Maizono could do the same kind of thing ... plus maybe she swings a mic stand around and hits people with it like Rise does in Persona 4 Arena?

And that's... kind of all I could conjure up from my brain. There are still four people on your list there, and I don't seem to have any ideas on how to work them. But hopefully you do. Or will! :)