#i’m not very happy with my art lately and i’m getting quite beat up about it but i think this is cute 👍

[sufbino]

maxsh

[merakime]

I heard your requests are open. If you're gonna bully me I'm gonna throttle you.

Catering to you, indulging yourself, perhaps some general dating headcanons on Tighnari and/or Cyno?

Have fun writing, my fellow gay

-🌧️

＃LOVE ABLOOM ! — ft. tighnari, cyno

───── a / n: YOU. YOU LITTLE. i’m going to bite you and shake you aroudn like a squeaky toy fo you understnad me. GRRGRRHRRR ( congrats on being my first request here as well, rainini…. albeit with different motives.. i do not regret what i did. if yk, yk! )

no cw — word count: 875 — fluff !!

‘is this what it feels like, bewitchment?’, tighnari muses to himself. his fingers skim through pages of old fables, of smitten lovers long gone. out of all the books he collected over the time, the ones buried deep in the past were the only ones close to describing the feeling—and even then, it wasn’t quite enough. it was late into the night that he let the fairytale drop on his chest—for there is no words that can encompass the feeling.

utterly enamored by you, he can’t help but be a little more cautious when it comes to you. it may come across as harsh, but truly, when he scolds you so, he does it out of adoration. by the end, his hands begin to feel shaky—sometimes you worry him so much, you know? if something ever happened to you while he could’ve done something, that’d be the end of him. “so don’t you stop being reckless?”, he’ll say with a flick to your forehead.

while tighnari isn’t particularly touchy, when it’s you, he supposes he can excuse it. as long as you don’t interfere with any work, he has no reason to turn you away, now does he? not that he minds, absolutely not. you find yourself enjoying this privilege rather quickly, with how fluffy his tail is and how adorably his ears flick when you touch the special spot. when up close, you can feel a strange hum from him—apparently fennec foxes can purr. that discovery opens many doors, doesn’t it? when you coo, all light fades from his eyes, his dignity forever scarred.

it’s only natural with his job that your home is decked in the prettiest flowers across the sumeru rainforest. the proudest kalpalata flowers drape over the windowsill, a vibrant padisarah blooming next to your bed. watching him care for the plants makes you fall in love anew. one day, he comes to you with a tree the size of a palm—an inazuman art, a “bonsai”, according to the vendor. he was particularly excited to tell you all about it—you’re amazed at how many discoveries he’s made in such a short time about the miniature tree.

it’s the kind of love that you can never get tired of—he makes your mundane day into a little fable, one that you can fall in love with over and over. everytime you cross paths it feels like the beginning of a new story—sometimes it’s a silly one, sometimes a sad one. but you find yourself okay with having a couple sad stories every now and then—if tighnari is there, the end will surely be happy.

what have you done to cyno? a strange feeling coils around his chest, a cage to the butterflies within. many a day, many more at night, he finds his thoughts trailing back to you. his heart begins to stammer just slightly—loud thumps against the palm on his chest. sometimes he wonders, do you feel it too, can you hear the sound when you’re close? does your heart beat so fast too, when you’re thinking of him? 

absence makes the heart grow fonder, doesn’t it? his occupation tends to keep him busy a good portion of the day, if not longer than that. he can’t help but miss you when you’re apart for so long. yet, that there is someone waiting for him, anticipating his return, makes his chest puff with ambition. cyno’s efficiency seems to have shot up significantly—if it means he gets to see your yearning eyes soon again, wide with adoration, he’ll even hunt down the moon.

his moral of justice is very prominent, and as it turns out, even during the mundane. if you’re a little tease, of course, the same treatment awaits you. you would’ve never thought him to be so shrewd—but he’s quick to jab back powerfully, and leave you speechless. it’s like he’s turning your own weapons against you—and then he looks at you so blankly, as if he’s innocent. and if you’re touchy, he’ll be touchy back—you find yourselves slotting together so perfectly, he hardly ever wants to leave.

while he is, again, normally very expressionless, his eyes begin to sparkle visibly when you catch news of genius invokation tcg—and he’s quick to pull you aside. there’s a certain, subtle jump to his voice as he teaches you the rules to it—and he’s really good at teaching, you found out. and also incredibly good at the game—the round barely began and he had you in a pinch. when you won, he always denied letting you have it, even though he was painfully obvious.

cyno loves intensely, like he’s never loved before. it may just be his nature, you figure. there’s a strange charm about him—you can’t place your finger on it, but the way he lays his heart out to you makes you never want to let him out of your embrace; his face remains stoic, unfazed, yet the glint in his eyes tells you more than enough. he loves you so strongly, there’s no need for ‘i love you’s.

─────ending note: this was certainly something. i haven't written anything lengthy in a while so it's a bit crustyy.. but i hope this is ok. ♡ i got very excited about getting a req finally even if it's my sillygoose rain and she did it jusy to bully me.

[bookreadingpsycopath]

To people on this silly website:

As midnight draws closer and closer (or already happened for people in different time zones) I just wanted to say thank you to my mutuals and the people I’ve seen on my dash. Whether we’ve ever had a conversation or not I hope things turn out ok for you.

I haven’t been on this website for a very long time but thank you for posting Art, thank you for posting silly little ramble about topics you like, thank you’d to bringing awareness to different topics, thank you for posting snippets of your WIP’s, thank you for sharing what’s you’re thinking about, thank you for all your shitposts, thank you for your rants, thank you for all of your posts whether they’re goofy, serious, happy, depressing, or just there, thank you for existing because it sucks but we’re all in this silly little website together and I think that’s quite nice, thank you for all the poetry on here, thank you for the song lyrics on here, thank you to all of my mutuals who have put up with me posting random ass stuff at the most random hours the days, thank you for all the fun tag games, thank you for the picrew tag chains, thank you for interacting with me, that has meant so much to me even if you’ve just liked a post of mine or if you tagged me in something or talked with me, thank you from the depths of my being it truly meant so much to me. Thank you all for so much.

I hope to interact with more of you little shits (affectionate) within this coming year. If you ever need someone to talk to feel free to send me an ask or something like that I’ll be glad to listen. If 2024 doesn’t treat you well we can all beat it up together at the end of it. I hope you get to enjoy yourself more in 2024.

And thank you too all my mutuals again for putting up with all my shit lmao @smol-sorrows @sunnandclouds @keinechteslaecheln @justaproblem-17 @wolfstaridiot08 @demigoddess-of-ghosts @dzikiemaslo @moonysversion @lifewaster-imdanger98 @kevinhayrle

And a special message to @wolfstaridiot08! You are amazing and so loved by me (in a platonic way) I’m pretty sure we’re platonic soulmates and I’m excited to go on a book splurge with you this weekend. You have gotten me through so much and thank you so fucking much for that. You helped me figure a lot of my shit out and have put up with a lot of my shit too. You listened when no one else would and I’m sorry for when I brushed things off and didn’t tell you stuff. Thank you for shoving (firmly but kindly pushing) me into a slightly healthier lifestyle and making sure I am actually getting adequate amount of rest, thank you for being there for me, thank you for showing me its ok to not be “perfect” all the time and that it was ok to be myself, thank you for consistently talking to me and even if you didn’t realize it that meant so much to me, thank you for showing me what a healthy friendship actually looked like, thank you for letting me ramble on and on about all of my new obsessions, thank you for supporting me, thank you for all the late night texts, thank you teaching me the wonders of flipping people off, thank for being my obsession buddy, thank you for giving me space when I asked for it, thank you for for sharing your writing with me, thank you for staying with me and not just pulling away or something, thank you for being you, thank you for everything and more, and WE MADE IT, we made it to New Year’s Eve, we did it. I love you ❤️.

(also sorry if this sounds cheesy, I’m a sappy bitch)

[mangoisms]

Heyy it's yj anon

With my midterms officially over, I can finally make time to read again. Thank you for the help with No Man's Land; I'm not well-versed with storylines prior to the 2010s unless regarding specific characters...but I'm working on it.

I initially started off as a Damian fan and only read stories that pertained to him and Talia (it's been rough). I read Red Robin on a whim after seeing some of my Twitter mutuals speak so highly of the series, and I absolutely loved the storyline (minus the last few issues; I also hate how Tam was treated. It was fairly iffy throughout the run, but it was further emphasized in the final issues; there is so much to say about the entire mess that was love interests, but that's for another day). The art style is nice as well, I understand why people are so fond of Tim during that era. Though I figured with no prior knowledge of Tim's character, it was a rough place to begin understanding his characterization. So, I started reading some of his older material, and it's been very interesting!!! I just started Robin 93, but Young Justice has taken up a majority of my attention. The silliness of the first issue with dumb gags about nuns in a station wagon filled with explosives, Tornado finding the trio so annoying it brought forth whatever humanity was left in him...I just couldn't stop scrolling. Safe to say, I am fairly invested in Tim (and Bart, he's just so younger-cousin-coded it's endearing), I plan to go back and read his Robin run (along with Impulse) once winter break allows me the time to properly read and analyze.

I haven't been following you long, so I'm unsure if you've answered this question prior, but what initially got you into Tim's character? (that wording sounds a little off, sorry.) But besides that, I hope you're doing okay and that midterms have been going well! Midterms beat me to a pulp, so I hope all is good on your end lolol

oh man i’m sorry this is so late! i had wanted to get around to answering this when you sent it but i got distracted. glad to hear your midterms are finally over! mine are too, thankfully T_T and of course! happy to help!

red robin was an interesting run… tim is Quite Annoying there and his relationship with tam (and um. women in general there) was a bit Eh. i used to like it but i think that was just the pretty art influencing me LMAO by now it’s just Meh especially because of the way he treats tam and steph and just generally acts. but again you are right that it is a Rough Place for his character. though i would also say that were it not for the grief and general dramatics of the situation, it’s probably reasonably honest? for his character i mean but that’s just me hehe. you’ll see some hints of it in robin 1993 i think but young justice 1998 really helps soften some of it just because it is a more light-hearted one! it’s definitely a lot of fun! i need to pick up my reading for it again tbh but i’m torn between that and reading for diana.. alas

oooh what got me into tim… initially i didn’t like him! i was into jason when i first got into dc and my exposure to tim wasn’t great… i got more accustomed to him through fics but it’s always been a bit grudging on my end LMAO, more of like a ‘i can fix him’ type of situation or at least one where his flaws—because he has Many—are highlighted and confronted. or sometimes assumed to have been taken care of, which is an assumption i welcome when it comes to my own fics. that is a large part of why i like him actually—that he has sooooo many issues. i’m veryyy critical of him HAHA it’s kind of why i’m turning away from whump fics regarding him, just because i’m like… he is not an angel compared to the others LMAOOOO so… yeah. it’s reluctant. and honestly these days </3 he annoys me LMAOOOOOOO it’s weird i know but. he’s like a chew toy to me

ANYWAY thank you sm for this ask!!! hope you’re doing well!! take care of yourself!!!

[crescencestudio]

Devlog #25 | 11.28.22

Hi everyone!

How have you all been? We are slowly approaching holiday season, so hope the end of the year has been bringing some moments of rest and connection with loved ones <3 We are back with another devlog, so let’s get into it! 

Writing

Writing has been where the bulk of my time has been spent this past month. I’ve been working closely with Wudgey, our developmental editor, to flesh out routes, endings, and information cohesion between everything. We’ve officially finished the route summaries for each character, and I’m quite happy with how the lore, endings, and character development has turned out! I think the magic, backstories, and characters have really come to life after talking with them, so I’m eternally grateful <3

Aside from that, my big, big focus has been Kayn’s route. I’ve begun writing the actual script for their route based on our outline and am currently sitting at ~25k words. At first, I was beating myself up a lot with the progress --- I felt like I wasn’t moving fast enough. But now that I’m actually seeing that number and realizing that’s from one month’s work, I’m pretty proud with myself, haha! This is just a rough draft, and it doesn’t include fleshed out choices, the fun characterization scenes where we get to just have fun with the LIs, etc., but I’ve written up most of the basic plot (I’d estimate about 80%). I anticipate this first draft without fleshed out choices and extra characterization scenes will end at around 30k-35k words, so almost there!!!

Art

Last time, I showed you all one of the BGs Vui had finished. And honestly, most of the art development process has been on Vui’s side since I haven’t been spending as much time on Alaris art (((you will see why below LOL))). Above is the most recent background I got back from them, and I’m honestly blown away by how it looks. I find it so unbelievably stunning and can’t believe it’s going to be featured in the game. Hope you all like it as much as I do and are just as excited for future BGs Vui cooks up! 

I have been working on some CGs, but I’ll be keeping those a secret for now hehe ^^

Additional Features

Finally, the sound and music! I’ve already started receiving some of the voiced lines back from the VAs for the demo portion. I haven’t gotten a chance to review them yet since I’ve been preoccupied, and they’re not ~as~ time sensitive. But I’m hoping to start reviewing the lines next month and hope to have a better idea of how the characters are sounding! Regardless, I’m very excited to give them a listen <3

I’ve also been working with Peter for song composition for the soundtrack. We have three songs complete, specifically the main theme song, romantic/tender track, and the tense track. I’ll be previewing them in the near future, so be on the lookout!! 

"Market Research” 

I’m going to have to start unironically having a spot for fanart highlights, haha! Lately, I’ve been trying to improve my rendering and other aspects of my art that I don’t have as much comfort with. Because I don’t want to only draw Alaris all the time, I use other works as a way to practice my art, so that when I work on CGs and sprites, I’ll be able to use those new techniques to hopefully deliver a better visual product for you all! 

I was quite proud with how all of these came out. This month, I took a dive into Mystic Messenger and Blooming Panic, two games I’ve heard so much about but have never gotten the chance to play. I felt so inspired with both of them since I have little exposure to chat-based games and fell in love with the GUI (the discord layout of Blooming Panic is especially creative!!), characterization, and voice dynamics between the cast. 

While playing games doesn’t seem directly related to game development, it helps me see what’s out there and improve on things to bring to Alaris. I’ve already gotten a lot of ideas floating around that I hope to implement, so I hope you all look forward to it! Until next month, and I wish you all an early safe, warm, and happy holidays!!! <3

[pankowfruitsnackswriting]

night on the beach (j.m)

My work is NOT to be transferred, translated, reposted or copied to any other sites without my permission. That is plagiarism. But you can re-blog the heck out of it on here :)

paring(s): jj x reader

summary:  JJ invites the smart girl from class to a party, only to spend the rest of the night talking by the ocean shore.

warning: drinking, language, innuendos to sex, kissing, abuse

 (master list) (tag list)

Y/n sat with her feet dangled off the edge. Life and death at her fingertips. She exhaled slowly. "I don't want to die, but I don't know what I'm living for either." Y/n confessed to the moon. Even he would go away for some time.

Tears continued to pour down here cheeks, burning the bruise forming on her face. What did I do to deserve the venom he pours out. My own father. The beatings were nothing new, but lately it's been getting worse. Not that anybody pays attention. Especially a nobody from the cut.

"I needed the money you fucking whore." Her father screamed in her face.

Unable to move in fear, he grabbed his daughter by the hair and threw her to the ground. A small gash quickly formed above the eye.

"Dad." Y/n tried to reason with her father. "We have to pay the bills."

"Well get it back. I had something in mind to buy." Drugs. He meant drugs. Specifically the white powder that coated the counter.

Y/n tried to push out the memories and began walking around. Everything is closing right now, but she wasn't ready to back. Maybe a late night surf, she thought.

Quickly, she walked home to grab her gear from the garage and headed back to the coast. Y/n wasn't sure if she could call it her happy spot. She was rarely happy anymore, just distracted.

Y/n slipped off her hoodie and headed straight for the water. Waves crashing around her. She got up a few times, surfing through the barrel only once before crashing down. As Y/n bobbed in water, she thought of something she only does out on the water. She thought of her brother. Maybe he was looking down smiling at her? She hoped and prayed because Y/n never wanted to disappoint him.

"Way to go!" A voice called from the shoreline. Heat flooded her face. Who would even be out her this time at night? Y/n heard a few more voice chatter as she swam in. One she could distinctly call out. JJ Maybank.

The boy she sat behind in math. Everyone thought he was cute. Who wouldn't? Y/n was thankful for the darkness hiding her faint blush. They hooked up a few times, mostly after a kegger, but that was as far as that went. Nothing more than a few hellos and "do you have the answers?"

"Y/n?" He called as she got out and carried her board to shore.

Y/n plastered on her smile. "Jj! What are you doing here?"

"Us poges just got done eating at the wreck and saw someone surfing. We wanted to check it out." He proudly stated. Y/n grew insecure, wondering how much they all saw. How embarrassing she thought. She took a few nasty tumbles.

The rest of the group stood around in silence as Y/n wrapped a towel around herself. "I'm pretty sure you know John B, Pope, Kiara, and Sarah."

"Not personally, but hello. I'm Y/n."

Kiara smiled. "I've seen some of your art hanging in school. Amazing work."

Y/n hummed a thanks and made small talk until dismissing herself.

John B and Sarah walked hand in hand, talking in hushed tones with JJ as everyone else headed to the van. "What do you know about her JJ?" Sarah asked, curious about the girl she barely knew.

JJ shrugged. "Y/n always has a lot of pencils and she is super smart. Although very quite. Apparently she is good at art too."

"She seems really nice. Who does she hang out with?" This only earned another shrug.

"I only see her in math. We don't talk a whole lot." He ran his fingers through the his messy blonde hair, pushing it back. He wasn't sure if he should mention their hooking up."Why so curious?"

Sarah pressed her lips together. "There's just something about her. Crazy how we can go to the same school for years and I don't even know her that well. I know nearly everyone."

John B finally chimed in as JJ sped up in front of teen. "Okay ms. social butterfly, are we taking you home or are you coming back with us."

She giggled. "I think I better go home. Raef would kill me if I'm out again."

John B kissed her on the temple. "I love your heart for other people, you know that?"

The rest of the night wrapped up quickly for them and they all headed to bed.

——

Y/n looked in the mirror one last time. All the bruises were perfectly covered. An art she learned young. It was cooler than most days, so the sweats wouldn't be completely odd. It's better than the tight shirt clingy to the open wounds.

She glanced at the clock. "Shit." She muttered, hoping she wasn't gonna be late. Running down the stairs and slipping past her father passed out on the couch, Y/n made it to the car.

The drive to school wasn't long but she dreaded it. A constant reminder of how she's alone. Her few friends either moved or died. "Just one of those quite kids" people called her. Little do they know why.

Y/n walked through the halls. Kids talked about some kegger happening that night. Others chatted about homework. A few more weeks and junior year would be over. Y/n counted every day.

"Hey Y/n." Sarah smiled and wave. Weird, her and John B usually just pass by. Probably because she saw them last night. Y/n returned the gesture and headed to first period. Pre-calc. Her favorite, though she would never admit that.

The teacher greeted her and she a seat. Right behind the blonde boy. "Morning Y/n."

She smiled. "Morning JJ. Need a pencil?"

He let out a chuckle. "Of course. But I wouldn't ask anyone else."

"I might have to run to the store soon if you don't start returning these." Y/n pulled a simple number two pencil from her bag and handed it to him. The morning usual.

JJ leaned back in his chair and shifted to look at her. She was quite beautiful and everyone knew that, but he would never say it. "What were you doing on the waves that late?"

"Trying to live." Her words implied something way deeper than he could possibly understand. A sad smile appeared on her lips.

"Well there's this party tonight. You should come." Y/n pondered his words. "Maybe after we could ride some waves." He followed the statement with a smirk.

"JJ, why do I have the feeling you're not talking about surfing."

The boy ran his fingers through his hair and grinned. "I wanna see you do that trick again, miss Y/n."

"I think I'll look pretty stupid if I bring my board."

"Just keep it in car. Please come. It'll be fun. I'll even hang out with you." Y/n rolled her eyes.

She giggled. "Okay fine. I'll be there."

"Good good." The boy mumbles and turns back to the front making conversation with the kid next to him before class began.

"Okay the final study packet is due-" the teacher continued to talk about what we needed to know and then dismissed us to work. "I have to step out of the classroom and handle some stuff. If you have any questions ask Y/n." Y/n roll her eyes and throw her head on the desk.

"What do you have in this class anyways?" JJ turned around again once she left.

Y/n shrugged. "A 97." Math once something that came easy to her. She always pushes for good grades. Just like her brother. Y/n really just wanted to make something of herself. Maybe her father wouldn't see her as a disappointment.

JJ jaw dropped. "How?" JJ struggled when it came to school. Maybe it was the fact he rarely payed attention, let alone show up. "Everyone is struggling for a B."

The corners of her mouth turned upward. "If you need help, just say something. No need to be secretive." Y/n loved these games. A little banter here and there. Strictly platonic. Until it wasn't.

JJ grabbed his paper and set it on her desk. "Okay miss teacher. Teach." With that class passed pretty quickly.

After math, JJ decided to head back to John B's. He didn't care about school that much but it was a good escape sometimes.

Once he got there, he sat on the hammock, rolled a blunt, and passed out. The act of living wore him out. Issues with his dad at home, crazy adventures with the pogues, and school. Sometimes it could be a little too much. Granted he loved his friends no matter what. He was just exhausted. "Summer is coming soon." He'd tell himself. "A new start."

JJ also took this time to ponder the girl in his math class. Y/n Y/L/n. A breath of fresh air. She was always kind. Nothing he'd ever met before. He's never hooked up with someone so intelligent and open. JJ wanted to get to know her more but was clueless on how to go about. Girls flock to him, he never chases. Plus she probably wasn't interested in him like that. It's been strictly sex. That's it.

"JJ" John B called as he hopped out of the van. A grin plastered on his face. "Pregaming already?" JJ turned over and groaned. "Get up JJ." John B helped him up. A smile never leaving his lips. With that, they all hung out until it was time to head to the bone yard.

_

Y/n showed up later than most people, but that didn't stop her from jumping right in. She said hello to some people from classes then grabbed two shots on a table and downed them.

"No chaser?" JJ wrapped his arms around her from behind.

She looked up with innocent eyes. "Only you." They both let out a laugh.

"Come on." JJ guided her through the sea of people with his hand on the back where the shoulders meet the neck. Y/n liked the feeling as well. She felt important, almost as if she was protected.

She felt foolish thinking that a hand on the back is protective. Maybe she just hasn't felt anything remotely close in so long.

"Y/n, you remember them." Gesturing towards Sarah, John B, Pope, and Kiara.

She smiled and waved. "I love your top." Sarah Cameron gushed over her. JJ didn't know how to say it, but he loved it as well.

Y/n wore a white mesh sleeve corset top, frayed jean shorts, and a folded head scarf holding her waves back. She looked absolutely stunning.

"Me? Look at your dress! Doesn't she look just darling, John B?" Sarah twirled in her blue floral v-neck dress.

"Don't I, John B?" John B grabbed his girlfriend and kissed her on the temple.

"I like you Y/n. We're keeping you around." Sarah giggled and soon her and John B walked away to go socialize. Kiara and Pope went off in different directions.

"Wanna go for a walk?" Y/n asked.

"Lead the way."

--

"Y/n." JJ was getting dragged by the hand along the coast. Her hair whipping behind her as she ran.

"You gotta keep up." She stumbled over her words and nearly tripped a few times.

"You've had a little too much to drink, didn't you, Y/n?" Giggles erupted from her lips.

She stopped and looked at JJ in the eyes. JJ was mesmerized by the beautiful green reflected in the moonlight. In an instance, he pulled her hips in, pressing his lips to hers. They moved in a perfect rhythm, hands wandering the bodies before them.

"You're so beautifully sculpted, Mr. JJ Maybank." Y/n mumbled against his lips.

Both his hands traveled to her thighs lifting Y/n up and carrying towards the edge of the water. "Is that so, Miss Y/L/n?"

With both her arms around his neck she slightly pulled back. "A few compliments back would be nice."

"You are as beautiful as the goddess of beauty and as tall as a Buffalo."

They both snickered. "Are buffalos 5ft 3in?"

"Give or take." Her feet touched the cool water as they returned to kissing. JJ glided his hands up her bare back and played with the hem of Y/n's top. She quickly helped him by pulling it over her head.

JJ gazed her body, stopping cold in his tracks. "Y/n-?" He began but was cut short when she started trailing kisses down his jaw. Even she could feel the tension. "Y/n, what happened?" His hands rested on her hips but gesturing to her bruised ribs.

"Fathers, ya know?" She tried to laugh it off. Why did he have to mention it, she thought to herself.

"I do." His face flooded with pain. Of course he knew. But she didn't deserve it. JJ knew how to defend himself. It was man to man with his father, but this wasn't fair. She wouldn't even kill the spider that crawled across her papers in math. "What happened?"

Y/n pulled back and gained a small distance between them. "You can talk to me." He pleaded.

"Maybe we should just head back." She grabbed her shirt, trying to put it on it a hurry.

"Fuck." She screamed in frustration. Tears at the surface.

JJ walked over to where she stood and helped her put it on. That's when the tears flooded. She began cursing at herself. "I can handle myself. I can do this by myself. I'm not some helpless girl." JJ could feel the anger rising. An anger he knew all to well.

"You are so strong. I'm not saying you can't do this. But I want you to know you don't have go through this alone. I know what it's like." Her body crumpled over as she sobbed. This was not the girl he knew. Usually so put together, calm, and in control of her emotions. Now he saw her in a different light. More human and, in its own twisted way, relatable.

JJ sat beside her and pulled her close, holding Y/n like Kiara, Pope, and John B have done in the past. The tables have turned.

"I'm sorry I ruined tonight. I ruined the mood. I am so sorry." Guilt written on her face. But she had nothing to be guilty for. She curled into his side.

Y/n was in shock. She never let her guard down, she never breaks down in front of people. Not even her brother. So why now? In front of the one guy she'd least expect it. Maybe because it was built up over so much time, or maybe it was the fact he really did understand. Her heart was betraying what she knew.

JJ continued to hold her. Once he felt her breathing calm down, he spoke. "What's going on in the pretty little brain of yours?" He brushed some loose strands of hair from her cheeks.

"I-" she began but closed her mouth. JJ silently played with the ends of her hair, cheering her on. "I've never had anybody notice. It was easier when it's just me." Y/n let out a shaky sigh. "I guess makeup can only do so much."

JJ sat her up. "See this scar on my lip?" She gently brought her fingers to the spot. "That thing has been busted open more times I can count because of my father. And see on my knuckles?" He held up a loose fist. "I've sent my hand through a wall. Trying to fight back."

Y/n lifts her hand as well. "I have one of those too. I was just really angry though."

JJ hung his head with a small chuckle. "See, you aren't alone in this. We all have scars. Some more similar than others, but you never have to go through it alone. I trust John B with my life. I may not tell him everything, but I know I have him in my corner to talk me down. Who do you go to?"

Y/n hung her head. She knew she had Mira , her brothers girlfriend before he passed, but that was really it. She didn't even know how bad it was. Especially once her brother was gone, she didn't want to burden her friend even more. It hasn't even been a full month since the accident.

Tears flooded Y/n's face once more as she shook her head. "I can't go to them. They wouldn't understand anyways."

"If you can't go to them, come to me." JJ's mind was racing. How long had this been going on? How did she manage like this? How could anyone do this to her? He felt his anger build up. A deep hatred for the man she calls a father. It was the same hatred he felt for his own.

"JJ?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. He looked her in the eyes and nodded. "Can we please just move on from this? I don't like talking about it."

"Of course, Y/n. I don't want to pressure you to do anything you don't want to. Sorry if I made you feel like you had to open up-" he was rambling and she knew it. So to shut him she kissed him.

Not a long lingering one leading to more, but a simple and sweet peck. "Oh and JJ?"

"Yes, Y/n."

"Can you please just hold me for a little while longer?" And so he did, wrapping her body in between his arms while she curled into a near fetal position.

JJ had very few thoughts after this except one. Y/n was more than just a hookup, more than some acquaintance in his class. She was his friend. If not, maybe something more.

--

JJ and Y/n had talked all night only realizing that once the sun had risen. "Shit, I have work." She checked her watch reading 06:38.

"Do you need to run by your house or anything? JJ asked, still processing the fact it's too early to be up.

Y/n shook her head no. "I have everything in the car. Do you need a ride to John B's?" He began to grin.

"If you wouldn't mind." He stood up and stretched. Y/n enjoyed the view, not only him, but the silhouette casted by the rising sun. She felt closer to JJ after last night and saw him in new way.

He wasn't some overly cocky blonde headed boy, JJ Maybank was caring and mentally strong no matter what he might come off as. They spent the night talking on the beach about everything under the sun from their fathers to their favorite finger. It was nice to see his true colors beyond math class. Maybe they weren't so different, Y/n thought to herself.

"Come on we have to get you to work and I want to try and get back some sleep." Both smiled at each other, never breaking eye contact.

"Y/n." She hummed to the sound of his voice. "I really enjoyed last night and I would love to continue to get to know you more." Her eyes darted to shoreline as they walked. "I- I mean if you want. I completely get it."

Y/n thought about her words carefully, not wanting to sound too eager. "I would like that very much JJ."

JJ face beamed. But in the back of his mind he was trying to sort through his feeling. He genuinely liked her, but was it truly in a way more than friends? This was something he has never experienced anything remotely close. JJ felt a sense of protection for Y/n. It was different from his protection for the pogues. That came from a sense of loyalty. For Y/n, it came from understanding.

They both hopped into her mini van and took off. JJ's eyes roamed the car. The back seats we folded down and a mattress placed on top, small plastic containers holding clothes. For the back of a van, she made the most of the space. "You live back there?" JJ gestured?

"On occasion. Sometimes I just like to drive up to the cliffs, pop the trunk and think." Her eyes showed with innocence.

"No surf board?" JJ cocked an eyebrow.

"Behind the boxes. You told me to bring it, remember."

"Ah yes. I do."

Y/n's face darkened with a somberness. "I am really sorry about last night."

"Please Y/n, don't be. I completely get. The only difference is people know about my dad. We have our breaking points and sometimes people bring it out. A while back Kiara noticed the bruises. I have a feeling she already knew but there was no hiding from it once she mentioned it. She kept pestering me and I broke. There was a lot more leading up to it but still."

Y/n continued to listen intently to what he was saying.

"I'm glad you told me. Maybe now we can keep an eye for each other and check in. It's not an easy thing to go through and so many people don't understand. If you ever need to talk, you can always reach out." He rambled on. Y/n could feel how nervous so in a simple manner she grabbed his hand to reassure him.

"You have my word, JJ. And you can always come to me. I don't know if I can be as much help as you were to me, but I will be here to listen." Y/n looked at him and grinned." I might even be able hold you like you did."

"I'll count on it." The car ride became quiet but both not letting go of the others hand. JJ felt important and wanted. Not wanted, needed. For the first time in a long time he felt good, that what he went through wasn't a complete waste. He could use it to help Y/n. JJ could sense she didn't know how to process her.

Y/n kept glancing at their hands still intertwined. For once in her life she felt heard. It was different from her brother and Mira. Plus she felt like JJ wasn't forced to listen. A brother is like a built in vent box, so is his girlfriend. JJ understood on a whole other level. Just his presence brought a sense of comfort. She felt so lost, but he was guiding her. It was all so new to her.

"We're here." Y/n said as she put the car in park.

"I know you're working, but would you like to hang out with John B, Sarah, Kiara, Pope and I after? We're probably just gonna chill around a small fire. They think you're really cool, especially after last night." JJ seemed a little shyer than usual.

"Sounds like a plan. I'll text you when I'm on my way."

"Good, good." He said and opened the door, released her hand, and went up to John B's door step. Before he went inside, JJ turned and waved. Then Y/n was off.

"You here pretty early." John B sat in the kitchen area eating breakfast. He noticed JJ's dream like state.

"She had to work." JJ sat down with a sigh.

"Did you fuck her?" Instead of responding, JJ shook his head no. This surprised John B. He's seen Y/n slip out the door on several accounts after keggers. "Then what happened, bud?" John B's had a small smile on his face.

JJ spoke without thinking a single thought, anything in his head. "We we're gonna fuck, but then stuff happened and we ended up talking and it was a really good talk. And we just talked, then the sun came up and it was basically time to go." This went on for at least 20 minutes and woke Sarah up. "Is it okay if she hangs out tonight? I kind of already asked her. I didn't think you would mind."

"I've never seen him so smitten before."

"Sarah don't be silly. You know I prefer gloves."

John B let out a howl. "Babe, I don't think he knows what that means." In a louder tone than before, John B agreed she could come, then Sarah and John B got JJ upstairs.

"She held my hand John B. No one ever does that." They close the door on him, encouraging him to go to bed.

[honeymilkk00]

Haikyuu Boys: You Flinch

Pt 2

@silver-argent​ :  Hii! I super looooove the way you wrote Haikyuu Boys: You flinch, perfect amount of angst to fluff! Are you taking requests? If you are, will you please do a Sakusa and Kenma? the you flinch. It's okay if you don't tho! I'll still look forward to your works!❤❤

tysm for the encouraging words!! my requests are open and im more than happy to do Sakusa and Kenma jewbjkew. i hope you enjoy. i'm literally so tired and just wanted to finally get this out <3

characters:

-sakusa

-kenma

___________________________

Sakusa

Dating Sakusa was the last thing you ever thought would happen to you. He filled your days and nights with such love and passion. You had broken through his stoic and cold shell and had seen him for who he truly was deep inside- a loving partner through and through.

Of course, old habits die hard. Since he had spent years of his life being a reserved person, only putting up with his family and teammates, he still was very hesitant when it came to affection. Sometimes all he wanted to do was to be alone with his thoughts and nothing else. It hurt to see him like that, knowing that no matter what, you couldn’t help him, but you understood and gave him the time he needed.

Five months into yours and his relationship had lead to a few disputes, but nothing too serious. He was a prideful, headstrong man which lead to you having to bite your tongue during arguments and keep your snarky words to yourself, refusing to let them slip off the tip of your tongue. If they did, the argument would escalate. 

You loved Sakusa for everything he was, bad parts and good, but sometimes he was too much. 

And, that’s how you were here, biting your lip harshly as you stare at him, refusing to let your anger get the best of you. 

Sakusa had been coming home quite late due to volleyball practise, but it got to the stage where you were scared that he was doing to overwork himself and injure himself. Instead of letting it slide, you confronted him about it and suggested that he should take some time to let his body heal from the strenuous training regimen that he was doing. It seemed that Sakusa wasn’t in the best of moods and had snapped at you, shooting abhorrent words towards you as if you were nothing but a pile of shit, accusing you of restricting him from reaching his full potential and trying to turn him away from volleyball because you were too clingy for his liking. 

“Fucking hell (Y/N), you’re so fucking clingy! Just because you’re an attention whore and want me to worship you doesn’t mean you can try and take me away from what I love doing. You’re so fucking obsessive it’s driving me crazy!” Sakusa bellowed and clenched his hands together, his nails digging into his hands. 

Taking a deep breath to keep yourself as calm as possible, you spoke in a soft tone, “Omi, I’m not trying to keep you from anything. I just think you should rest your body before you overwork yourself and become ill or injure yourself. I know you want to improve but that can happen gradually over time. I doesn’t need to happen all at once.” You murmured and gently placed a hand on his, trying to reassure him.

Letting out a deep, angered growl, Sakusa pulled away from your grip harshly and pushed your hand away, “don’t fucking touch me! You’re fucking disgusting! All you do is hold me down and try and control my life, you obsessive pest!” He hollered out.

His words ripped open your chest and stabbed you in the heart repeatedly. You felt like you were choking on your own heartbeat. It hurt knowing that your lover found you disgusting. A strong feeling of rage surged through your veins. “How fucking dare you, Sakusa! I’ve done nothing but tried to help you and all you do is treat me like shit. Every time we argue I have to bite my tongue because I know that if I retaliate, you’ll just get even more angry. I can’t express how I feel to you anymore and I feel as if I don’t matter in this relationship. If you want to overwork yourself and injure yourself then fine, go ahead, but don’t blame me for saying I told you so after it’s happened!”

His eyes narrowing at your words, Sakusa swiftly turned to glare at you and raised his fist, poking your chest aggressively, “Fine, I will then because I’m not letting you control me anym-” He paused mid sentence, his eyes widening when he noticed you flinching when he raised his hand. Slowly, he lowered his hand and dropped them at his sides. Your shaking figure made his heart clench painfully tight. “(Y/N) I-”

“I can’t do this anymore, Sakusa.” You voice whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear. Tears rolled down your cheeks and you sniffled quietly. “I can’t handle this pain anymore. I can’t handle feeling like I’m walking on egg shells with you. I can’t handle being afraid of how you’ll react when I speak about how I feel. I just can’t do this anymore.” You voice got quieter and quieter the more you spoke. Looking up at Sakusa, you swallowed thickly. “I can’t do us anymore.” 

Sakusa was frozen, watching you carefully. It was deathly silent. The only sound he could hear was the sound of his heartbeat beating rapidly. 

“I’ll pick up my things tomorrow. I’m going to stay at Atsumu’s for the night.” You whispered and turned away, heading towards the front door. 

A small, almost whine-like noise left Kiyoomi’s mouth. He reached out and clasped your hand gently, tears forming in the corner’s of his eyes. “Please.” He begged quietly.

Looking back at the man you loved, your heart shattered into small pieces when you noticed his dampened eyes. Never had you seen him cry before. “What is it?” You asked quietly, biting the inside of your cheek.

Sakusa pulled you in tightly for a hug and pressed his lips against your cheek gently. “Please don’t leave. Please please please… I’m so so sorry (Y/N).. I didn’t mean anything I said. I love you and I’m grateful for everything you do for me. I’ve just had a really bad day. Please I love you. Please don’t leave. You’re my baby... “ He pleaded softly and held you tightly, as if afraid that you’d disappear if he let go. 

Letting out a sigh, you caved in. You were still mad at him but at the end of the day, you loved Kiyoomi more than anything else. You would give up everything for his happiness. “Kiyoomi...” You whispered softly and then turned around so you were face to face with him. Gently cupping his cheeks, you sighed, “I love you so so much Kiyoomi... But you can’t say stuff like that to me even if you’ve had a bad day. You really really hurt me even though I was just trying to look out for you.” You explained and frowned softly, kissing his tears that resided in the corner of his eyes. 

Pressing his lips softly against your hands that rested on his face, he let out a shaky breath that he didn’t realise he was holding, “I know... I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I promise I’ll do better..” He whispered gently and pressed his nose into your hair lovingly. “I love you so much...”

Leaning in closer to Sakusa, you inhaled his scent, “I love you too, Omi..”

He never wanted to see you flinch like that again.

________________________

Kenma

Kenma was an erudite genius when it came to the art of strategy. His deep understanding of the game and the unspoken pledge to win is what drove him forward and kept him reaching, grasping, clutching for new strategic idea that would leave his opponents breathless.

For days, maybe even weeks, on end, Kenma would be researching, training, and repeating the process until he felt confident in his methodology that would be used in a game. Thus, led to a breakdown. After weeks of undereating, lack of sleep, training beyond his physical capabilities, and his mental strain thinking of ways to defeat the opposing team, Kenma was at his wits’ end. 

As his partner, you immediately noticed the changes in his personality. Of course, concern was your initial reaction and you were somewhat frightened of irritating him more, but you knew you had to confront him about his lack of self care. Seeing him train during lunch and falling asleep in lessons led you to realise how hard he was working himself. 

So, after school you managed to pull him to one side before he proceeded to train at the club. A frown was present on your lips and you took a deep breath. Looking at him now hurt a lot: his eyebags had considerably increased since the last time you saw him; you could now see physically where he had lost weight from undereating for weeks; his eyes seemed a lot duller; his body slouched over slightly, as if it was begging for a break. It was agony to see your partner slowly harm his body and mind like this.

"Kenma, just know I love you so much and I understand that volleyball means a lot to you right now since it's your final year with your team as you know it with Kuroo as captain, but look at yourself. You're not taking care of yourself at all. You aren't helping you or your teammates by undereating and not sleeeping." You murmured gently, taking Kenma's hands in your own. You knew that you had to be careful and not push your boyfriend, but you couldn't let it continue.

Kenma simply frowned at your words and pulled his hand away from yours, "(Y/N), I don't need your lecturing. I'm perfectly fine taking care of myself. I don't need you." He hissed out and turned his back on you, proceeding to head to practise. He had no time to waste on pointless conversations.

(Y/N) grinded their teeth together, their heart aching slightly at the harsh words, "I'm not lecturing you, Kenma! I'm doing what a s/o should do and I'm looking out for you! Please just take a small break before you overdo it!" You hallooed, as if that would make the words sink in.

Vexed, Kenma turned around with a deep scowl on his face, "Why don't you just back off, (Y/N)!? I don't care about you right now, all I care about is me and my teammates winning this game!" He shrieked, which caused you to trip back and swallow thickly.

A small whimper escape your lips and tears formed in the corners of your eyes as you flinched. You were normally fine with Kenma's salty attitude, but he never usually shouted at you. Taking a shaky breath, you looked at your boyfriend dead in the eyes, "fine! Do what you want to do! Since you don't care about me I won't bother anymore! Don't you fucking dare come running to me when you overwork yourself and can't handle it anymore!" You retorted and turned away.

Kenma's eyes widened slightly at your words as he watched you turn away. "Wait...." He whispered out, his hand reaching towards yours. Lightly, he grasped your wrist and sighed, pulling you close and burying his head in your shoulder. "'M sorry... I'm just so stressed..." Tears brimmed his eyes and he sniffled softly. "I didn't mean it..."

Letting out a soft sigh, your shoulders relaxed and you pulled your lover in for a cuddle. "I know you didn't mean it baby... But remember your health comes first, volleyball after." You whispered and gently stroked his hair. He simply nodded in response and hugged you tighter.

Maybe you both could work things out. You just need to learn to communicate more.

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E129 (March 16, 2021)

Tonight’s guests are Matt Mercer and Taliesin Jaffe!

Matt, on DMing Luc’s Revivify: “That was weird. It’s one thing when it happens because of player action and circumstances and the choices they make. When it’s entirely on me, unintentional, and just realizing different chess pieces you’ve set up, that’s rough.” It was especially rough since this was a child NPC related to a PC. “I was hoping somebody had a spell slot left.” He kept in mind that there are two clerics in the room and that they could resurrect the next day even if the Revivify went poorly. “A good chance, since it’s his first time. Okay, okay, okay, okay, I think we’ll be okay, we’ll see how this goes. It was really stressful in the moment! I did not set out to have that happen, but when I realized what was going to happen, I tried to see it through.” He wouldn’t have prevented a chance to bring him back. “There may have been an offshoot short-run series of games to find a way to bring him back. I would have found some way to correct the circumstance so the players could feel good about moving forward with the story and there was no undue punishment beyond their control.”

Taliesin on Cad’s response: “This is a big thing if you’re a cleric. It was very much coming in like an EMT. Everything should be fine... hopefully. Just focused in and got it done. The minute things started to go south it was like, okay, that’s the next problem.”

On Yeza’s feelings: “It is a very complicated situation. I think he, much like how Veth is trying to figure out what it is that she wants, I think he’s trying to help her find that while also figuring it out for himself. I think Yeza’s also noticing that because Veth’s the more active of the two of them she also takes the weight of the responsibility and the blame for things when they go wrong, unnecessarily. Especially when he himself acknowledges that he’s partially at fault for even dragging everyone in with the Conclave. As much as he’s appreciative for them coming back for him, there’s a lot of back and forth. He’s filled with a lot of regret, too, but he’s very much trying to convince Veth that it’s a burden that she doesn’t have to keep to herself, that they can share it and work through it together.” Matt mentions that, as an actor, he really loves exploring interactions between characters first and foremost. “Especially when you don’t know where it’s going to go.” He also praises Sam as a scene partner - “I really cherish that.”

How does Caduceus feel about Revivify and Speak with Dead? “Speak with Dead is an interesting middle ground, because he knows that it’s not actually speaking with the dead. It’s really just-- it’s almost medical, really. This is just reactivating a brain at a certain point. It’s practically just a muscle twitch at this point. That doesn’t really prod him in that direction. Revivify is interesting, because it had never really come up. At first I thought of it as bending the rules, but it’s not bending the rules. You knock over a plant, you replant it, you don’t stare at it and go ‘Well, that’s over.’ This is just doing the work. No, we can bring this thing back to health. This is all part of the circle of life, that sometimes we can save something. Especially given the stress that he’s put himself through over the past year of being with these people. He’s started to think of himself a bit as a battlefield medic, and triage is just part of the deal, and it’s completely acceptable.”

Did Trent really just want to talk? “Yeah, that circumstance, as it came together, Trent would never have arrived if there wasn’t an indication that there was some kind of infiltration or attack. Even beyond that, it was Jester breaking the concentration on her charm on that one guard when she created her duplicate.” The guards’ job is to inform a member of the Cerberus Assembly, and Trent lived the closest. “He didn’t know who it was, didn’t have any expectation necessarily. The minute he saw the illusion, he knew a powerful magic user was involved.” Seeing Caleb was an unexpected surprise. “I don’t think he wanted to throw down necessarily. He was more interested in figuring out exactly what the nature of this was.” Matt had multiple battlemaps that didn’t get used. “They managed to cleverly out-maneuver him in his surprise of seeing them.” The Nein rocketed up his priority list after that very quickly. Taliesin: “We’re so fucked.”

On Cad being “Uncle Caduceus” to Luc: “It’s the thing he misses most about home, is being a juvenile shit. It’s nice to be able to express that part of him again, as opposed to the serious, life-threatening, constant intensity. I’m very at home just being a little difficult.”

Cosplay of the Week: an amazing Beau! (_rumor_king, photography by kourtyardproductions on Instagram)

On Marion: “Like a lot of people in this whole narrative from the beginning, getting swept up in things larger than her and trying to adapt. This is a circumstance she’s avoided for a long time. She’s having a rough time in some ways, but simultaneously, she’s enduring. Like a mother would. She’s adapting, she’s making it work. Without much of a choice, you just kind of do the best you can and lean on the people around you to help you where they can. Luckily she has a daughter there. She’s probably surprising herself at how well she’s doing given the circumstances.” Matt talks about how weird it is to feel proud of character he’s created. “Of the many things Marion is incredible at, she’s a studier of the human condition. She’s seen and heard the stories of so many. That gives her a very special perspective. She can see elements of that fractured individual within Caleb, and knowing the good that he’s brought to his friends, and knowing he’s possibly saved her life from bad circumstances, she couldn’t not speak up. She very easily falls into that role of maternal comforter, because it’s one of the many things she’s really good at, she enjoys it, and she can see well when people need it.” He’s been enjoying having Marion along for this (despite the difficult circumstances) because he was always a little sad that they only got to see her for short periods of time.

On the Blooming Grove’s safety: “He’s afraid that it’s a premonition. He’s not pinned it down, but he’s happy to let his imagination wander. He at the very least feels like there’s a reason he’s having these thoughts, and that there’s a reason to go there. He’s a big believer that these things don’t just happen. He’s more likely to think that there’s a good reason to go versus a danger to go. He’s had a couple of ominous warnings lately, and he’s not used to them and not a fan. He’s more likely to read something like that as, there is something there waiting for you that you have to discover. There is something that is going to be helpful to you, even if it hurts.”

On Astrid: “While maybe not as readable in overall personality as Trent is, I still want to be careful to not discuss things that are still being discussed within the game and tossed around as possibilities. Astrid is another complicated character, as anyone would be who’s been through the life she has. I can’t say too much. I can say she’s definitely legitimately happy to see Bren/Caleb after all this time.” His reemergence definitely caught her off guard. “We’ll have to see where it goes from there.”

On Cad’s successful Divine Intervention: “He’s definitely hit the ‘on a mission from god’ stage. He’s been that way for the entire campaign of, this, this is what I’ve been waiting for. Even when it sucks a lot, it’s been nice that those things have popped up to remind him, no, no, you’re doing it right, everything’s good. Probably not going to survive the next week, but you’re doing good! Not quite 1 in a 100 chance, but I forget so often to make that roll, and it’s such a great roleplaying roll. I don’t know how at level 20 you could deal with the fact that you can do that every day.” 

On Zeenoth getting his comeuppance: the kidnapping was a concept Marisha brought up for Beau’s backstory, and Matt went with it even though it was opposed to the Cobalt Soul’s philosophy because he knew rooting it out would make for an interesting story. “I felt it was an important beat to bring to her, because it was something that she was wronged by. And to show that there are still some good people out there who are trying to make things right.” After the tentative peace, dealing with this became Dairon’s next focus. “I was glad we finally got to it. So many people don’t have the opportunity in their lives to get that sort of justice and vindication, so if I can bring elements of that justice into our world, even for our own hope, I’m going to do that. Especially for my wife’s character, especially for a character that deserves that.” Taliesin points out that if it had come too early, Beau wouldn’t have believed it.

Cad’s thoughts on the Tomb Taker betrayal? “He knew it was gonna come at some point. There was no way that was gonna last. He was hoping it was gonna last a little longer. He was really hoping they had a vested interest in getting them all the way to the end. Nope, this is apparently as far as we go, and he was not prepared for that.” He was expecting the potential for de-escalation. “Caduceus is the only character in there that doesn’t have a history with Lucien. I think he sees him a little more clearly than everybody else does. They’re all looking for this person that Clay, at least, is of the opinion that he’s just not there. This is a very manipulative, very dangerous infernal human. Just smarter than all of them. Really aware that there is no calculating what the hell is going to happen. Conversation is the only way you can deal with someone like that.”

Fan Art of the Week: An amazing Caleb closeup! (rynn_birb on Twitter)

Taliesin on Lucien: “I’m excited he’s the one that’s going to kill us all. Poetic that this is how the game ends.” Matt was delighted when Taliesin handed him carte blanche to do what he wanted with Molly’s past. “I was like ‘shit... oh, wait!’ The character of Lucien was always intended to be an antagonist so that it would have been Molly being chased by the person who wanted their body back. But then it happened that he got his body back.” Taliesin: “He’s so much worse than I ever hoped.”

Matt, on the Holy Avenger: “I hadn’t thought to initially even give that sword.” The good roll was the only reason Kima handed that over. “Well, sure, you get the sword. It was very reactionary, it wasn’t my intent originally. I was like, well, I mean, there’s two avenues she can take with this.” Multiclass into Paladin, or lean into the fact that her subclass is essentially a barbarian paladin. “This really works out in a uniquely beautiful way. Let me see if I can lay out a path for her to earn it.”

On Cad’s attempt at lying blowing up in his face: “He was like that kid that had a really bad day in high school and was like, you know what? I’m going to let loose. This is it. I’m gonna dye a streak in my hair. And then tries to give himself a haircut and ends up with half bangs. Well, okay, obviously I’m not that person. I was feeling a little distraught and I didn’t handle it well. Maybe I’m going dark... no, I’m not going dark. Nope.” Matt mentions how much he relates to Caduceus.

Matt, on the Eyes: “What can I tell you? I’m enjoying the hell out of it. The moment they began to really push to read that book, I was like, okay, this is on you. I’m excited for the point in the narrative where the march continues back to Eiselcross. I am almost impatient - not really - because we’re on the cusp of getting to more of the meat. There’s so much to learn, so much to see, so much to explore. I love instilling my players with absolute terror.”

Thoughts on Jester’s Tarot reading? Taliesin cackles. “Molly made the cards, so. Did it to himself, he did, he did.” Matt: “Once again, another example of things working out unexpectedly and too perfectly for an improvised moment. Fuck.” Taliesin: “Bless the wisdom of chaos.” Matt: “I love that even at this point in the campaign, Molly continues to fuck with people. I’m just so proud. That deeply shook Lucien, for reasons.” Taliesin: “It’s the everlasting gobstopper smoke bomb.”

[keanureevesisbae]

I was thinking abt sy with a lil idol gf and omg🥺🥺Bye he’d be so supportive🥰he would go to his gf’s shows and maybe even surprise his idol gf at a fansign and bring 20 albums for her to sign😭😭 the big bear definitely owns a bunch of merch and has a “secret” fan acc, He is overall just mushy for his girlie😩🤚(I’m so soft rn pls😭)

YOU JUST MADE ME THE SOFTEST HUMAN BEING ALIVE. OH MY GOSH, THIS IS ADORABLE, I LOVE THIS AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR PUTTING THIS IDEA IN MY MIND!! (side note: i used Jennie's Solo cover for the art and i also went out of my way to make insta edits - yes, i'm that type of person) also, thank you sweet anon for sending me this 💗hope you like it

Captain Syverson x petite!cutesy!fem!reader

Summary: Sy has a reputation: a strong and powerful captain, who is never afraid and will never turn into a pile of mush. However, there is only one woman who is able to turn him into the ultimate fanboy.

Wordcount: 1k

Warnings: none

Sy is more of a country music kinda man. Growing up in Texas, near a bar with a mechanic bull, he was obsessed as a young teen with the idea of just touring through the state with a cowboy hat on his head and a guitar.

It’s just the fact that he can’t sing what stood in the way of a very promising country career.

He joined the military and forgot about the idea all together, but when he came back from his final tour to Iraq, his friends took him on a little welcome home drive through the country. They visited all sorts of bars, listened to all sorts of music there. Sure, all sorts of music had its appeal, but it would never be like country.

The final destination of the little road trip was LA and they went to a bar for new sing and songwriters to perform.

And that’s where he first laid his eyes on you. He remembers you sitting on a bar stool, back straight as a ruler. You were adorable, he thought to himself. Wide eyes as you were watching the stage, clapping your hands along with the beat and squealing when someone sang something particularly well.

And then it was your turn to get on stage. A sweet pink dress, matched with white sneakers and socks with a lace border. Nothing about the song you wrote and sang was something he usually liked. Very happy, up beat and your high voice sang every note perfectly.

Despite not his taste, he adored every second of it.

You seemed shy off stage, with the way you sat by yourself, but on stage that demeanor completely changed.

You were born to be a singer.

When you sat down at your own barstool again, he grabbed his beer and decided to sit next to you, get to know you. Everything about you was different. Petite, long hair and your feet didn’t even touch the floor.

He was supposed to stay in LA for two weeks, but that changed into a month and then two months, because he couldn’t get enough of you. He left Texas (something he never thought he would do) and moved to LA, where he got a job as a constructor. You quit your own job, one you only took to be able to pay for the bills and musical equipments. He loved helping you out, driving you from bar to bar, hoping your dream of becoming an idol would come true.

And one day, it happened.

You got an offer of one of the biggest agencies in the US and after the two of you read the contract multiple times, you signed and were an official idol.

Life changed a lot after that. You were either in the studio, dance practice and back at the studio again, however Sy made sure that you were well hydrated and fed, just like your back up dancers.

The people at the agency loved Sy and they often joked that he was part of the family that was created at the agency.

It all happened fast. Your first single, music video, first appearance at multiple late night shows and finally you reached one million followers on Instagram.

And he was right by your side.

His friends knew about his love for country, but they also knew about his much bigger love for you. They often would catch the big captain sing to the cute, almost bubblegum pop music you produced.

He didn’t care.

Sy had all your merchandise, whether it would fit him or not. He had your albums (all signed of course) and listened to them when you weren’t around. Sometimes he’d travel with you as you were touring, sometimes he stayed behind, especially after the two of you adopted a two year old American Akita.

The world knew you weren’t single, but you always kept Sy out of the spotlight, something he’d greatly appreciated. While you were born to be famous, he was born to live a more anonymous.

But that didn’t stop you from boasting about him on Instagram.

It had been at least three months since you saw him in real life. Your manager and all your back up dancers knew about his plan. Heck, they even helped Sy with planning it. He watches from the back, the line at your meet and greet stand growing smaller and smaller, until everyone has left. You let out a content sigh and want to get up, but your manager says there is a special fan still waiting in the back.

‘Really?’ you ask him. ‘Who is it?’

‘Very special. Super fan.’

That gains your attention, as your eyebrows are raised. ‘Do I know them?’

‘You’ve met them before,’ your manager says.

‘Oh, I do hope I recognize them,’ you say. ‘I don’t want to come across as such a bitch, you know.’

Your manager starts to laugh. ‘I wouldn’t worry about it,’ he says. ‘Close your eyes.’

You place your hands over your eyes and smile in anticipation. Sy quietly walks over to your table and places his newly bought album in front of you. ‘I’d like this signed, please,’ he says.

Within lightening speed you pull your hands from your eyes. ‘Oh my,’ you say, ‘Sy?’ You jump up, your chair falling behind you. You run around the table and wrap your arms around his neck. He lifts you up in his arms and gives you a kiss on your cheek. ‘I missed you! What are you doing here? How is Kal?’

‘Kal is good. He is with your parents.’

‘But what are you doing here?’ you ask.

‘I want my autograph,’ he says with a chuckle.

You press a kiss on his lips. ‘How long are you gonna stay here with me?’

He shrugs. ‘I brought enough clothing for let’s say… a month?’

Your eyes enlarge. ‘That’s the end of my tour! Oh, Sy, you’re staying with me?’ You have tears in your eyes and whisper: ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too, little lady.’

[spxllcxstxr]

Yellow Sticky Notes • R.L

(Gif not mine)

Request: maybe an imagine where the reader is dating remus and puts sweet love notes into his books to constantly remind him how loved he is 🥺 — anon

Summary: Remus finds your lovely paper trail in his books while in the hospital wing

Warnings: mention of food, mentions of injuries, mention of full moon, Remus being a bit insecure, fluff

Word Count: ~1k

A.N: Do me a favor? Disregard the fact that Post It Notes were invented in 1980. Let’s just push that date back a tad...I honestly don’t know how I feel about this one? I love Remus so much so maybe that’s why I can’t seem to love the things I write about him because I feel I don’t do him justice. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

****

Remus sits alone in the hospital wing, all his friends stuck in class, while he’s forced to suffer in the all too familiar scratchy bed.

The full moon the night before gave him deep purple bruises all along his abdomen, a foot facing the entirely wrong way, and a brand new inflamed scar running from the bottom of his left earlobe all the way to the corner of his left eye.

When Madam Pomfrey reluctantly held up a mirror in front of him earlier in the morning, he almost snatched it out of her hands in a fit of rage and threw it across the room. He would’ve, if he wasn’t too weak to even lift up a finger.

But that was before James made his way down with a plate of breakfast, Sirius with an armful of jumpers, and Peter with a fluffy pillow from Remus’ very own bed.

You had come running down with his school bag filled to the brim with his favorite Muggle novels.

Just seeing them gave him the strength he needed to get through the rest of the day.

The four of them stayed as long as possible, but Slughorn made it very clear the last time they were late to class that detentions would be the least of your problems. He was threatening to write home, and no one wanted that.

You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before dashing out, his eyes trailing after your retreating form.

He sighs before picking up the novel closest to him on the nightstand. It’s one he’s almost done with, only a chapter or two left.

Remus opens to the dog-eared page, but notices something different about the paper.

Smack dab in the center of the page sits a pale yellow square, your elegant scrawl resting on top of it. Bringing the book closer to his face, he reads out your note.

Dear Remus,

Over the summer, Lily sent me a pack of these Muggle things called sticky notes. I think they’re absolutely fascinating, don’t you? There’s this sticky stuff on the back and that’s what makes it stick onto stuff. Sometimes I think these Muggles are geniuses! There’s one hundred in a pack and I’ve decided to use them all. Let’s see if you can find the other ninety-nine.

Love forever,

(Y/n)

Narrowing his eyes, he turns his head to look at the other books you brought down for him.

Slowly, he closes the book in his hands and grabs another one from his bag.

Sure enough, on the first page, there’s another pale yellow sticky note with your handwriting.

100 Reasons Why I Love Remus Lupin (even though the list is ever expanding)

#46. You’re extremely kind and willing to help everyone. From helping first years with Herbology homework to quizzing me on History of Magic revolts because Merlin there are too many, you’re always happy to help. I don’t know how much you hear it, so thank you.

His thumb traces over the dried ink, soaking in the words. His heart swells as he bites his lip.

He repeats the process with another book.

100 Reasons Why I Love Remus Lupin (even though the list is ever expanding)

#96. You never complain when I fall asleep after begging you to read to me in bed.

Remus snorts, remembering all the times you’ve begged him to read to you while cuddled up underneath a mountain of blankets and then hearing your light snores in the middle of the chapter. You liked to tell him it was because his voice was so calming, but he never really believed it until now.

There were four more books in his bag and he lifts the rest of them onto his bed as fast as possible. His body groans in pain, but that doesn’t matter to him.

100 Reasons Why I Love Remus Lupin (even though the list is ever expanding)

#29. You are so strong. So much stronger than you believe. And your strength gives me hope every single day.

A blush runs up his neck, painting his face pink. Maybe because his emotions are running rampant, but he feels tears welling up in his eyes.

He swallows roughly, picking up the next book, it’s spine cracked from use.

100 Reasons Why I Love Remus Lupin (even though the list is ever expanding)

#7. Your smile. The way it lights up the room. I know you don’t like it so much because your canines are tinted a bit yellow and your front tooth is crooked, but honestly, love, it’s beautiful. Every time it makes its way across your face I forget how to breathe and my heart skips a few beats.

Instinctively, said smiles grows wide. He must look crazy, sitting all alone, smiling maniacally at some novel but he couldn’t care less.

Excitedly, he grabs another.

100 Reasons Why I Love Remus Lupin (even though the list is ever expanding)

#15. How on my bad days you’ll curl up in bed next to me and just hold me close to your chest. You’ll let me cry and make a snotty mess on your jumper. I swear I’m an ugly crier and yet you still look at me like I’m the most stunning person in the castle.

This note has a little heart scribbled in the corner, something he finds extremely cute.

He quickly flips open the cover of the last novel.

100 Reasons Why I Love Remus Lupin (even though the list is ever expanding)

#78. Would it be shallow of me to say that you’re extremely attractive? Because Godric, Rem, you are so fucking amazing to look at. Like a work of art. And I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking about your scars. Well guess what Lupin, those are beautiful too. It’s my mission to kiss every single one of those scars and I’m no quitter.

He brings his hand up to trace over the new scar, wincing. Before, he was feeling insecure about another white monstrosity ripping through his skin, but knowing that soon enough your soft lips were going to trace over said line, he felt a little bit better about it.

Though his smile has turned into a goofy grin, he’s saddened by the fact he has no more notes to look at. It’s probably for the best, so he can save them for another time.

You don’t get around to visiting your boyfriend in the hospital wing until after classes.

James and Sirius had Quidditch practice, so they dragged Peter with them so you could have some alone time with Remus.

You open the large oak doors quietly, hoping not to disturb him.

You push your way through the white curtains surrounding his bed, greeted by the sight of him surrounded by the books you brought down for him.

“How was class, love?” Remus asks, patting the spot next to him.

You take your seat, pressing your shoulder to his own.

“Quite boring, honestly—“

You’re cut off by Remus’ chapped lips connecting to your cheek. He repeats his actions, peppering seven kisses all around your face.

“What was that for, Rem?” You ask, your fingertips hovering over the spots he kissed.

“One kiss for every lovely note.” He replies, flashing you that bright smile that just makes your knees weak.

“Well in that case,” You smirk, gazing into his honey brown eyes. “I can’t wait for the other ninety-three.”

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20

[bts-weverse-trans]

201128 Weverse Magazine ‘BE’ Comeback Interview - Namjoon

RM: “I spend a lot of time thinking about where I am now” BTS BE comeback interview 2020.11.28

The story of BTS’ new album BE started on April 17, 2020 when group member RM announced its production on the BANGTANTV YouTube channel. In the seven months that followed until the album’s release, RM’s mind was full, his thoughts flowing in and out of his head.

How do you feel about the unique approach you took to making your new album, BE? RM: The other members were a ton of help to me. My lyrics made it on the album, but the music I composed didn’t, so I’m really thankful to the group for the music. How should I say this? I feel like everyone is doing a great job. There are so many parts in these songs that I’m indebted to them for. “Stay” was originally going to be the title song on Jung Kook’s mixtape, but everyone liked it so much, and they all agreed to put that on our album. That’s how much influence they had. I’m really happy my room idea was chosen to be the album photos. Since we’re spending a lot of time in our rooms because of COVID-19, we laid out the idea of each of us decorating a room in our own style. I can’t remember for sure (laughs) but I think I’m the one who came up with that. I made a comfortable room, one that’s modern and warm because that’s what I like.

There’s a painting in the middle, and symmetrically arranged figurines. RM: The figures are from my own collection. I wanted to show one of my paintings, but that didn’t pan out. But still, those are the things I hold most dear to me right now, so I let the room embody the things I wish I had, too.

It’s well known that you like art and frequent exhibitions, but how do you feel when you look at art in your home or another space where there are no people, like in the album art? RM: Someone said, “You don’t have to buy this painting; it’s yours so long as you’re looking at it.” That’s my favorite sound bite these days. What I most envied about painters was that, even after they died, their work would be hanging up somewhere, maybe even in another country, still defining that space. Musicians leave behind their songs and videos, too, but it’s only through fine art that viewers in the future are able to completely meet artists from the past. I’m envious that this is only possible for painters. These days I’m trying to find spaces where I can have more relaxed viewing experiences.

There’s a full experience involved, from the time you get ready to leave your house until the time you’re actually looking at artwork in the gallery. RM: That’s perfect to me. There’s art you can keep at home, and then there’s art that should always be viewed in museums.

What effect do you think that type of experience has on your music? You didn’t compose any of the songs but instead participated in writing the lyrics to all of the tracks. Did that experience affect your lyric writing in any way? RM: I think it’s helped me develop a way of thinking using all the senses. I used to be attuned to speech and focus on language and auditory textures, but now I can look at my thoughts from many different angles. That’s why I spend more time studying art now. I’m waiting for the day that it all comes to the surface, like when you paint the base on a canvas over and over so the colors pop. It’s hard to answer in one word if it has a direct influence on my work, but I think people who create music develop a way of seeing the world through their personal experience and their creative process. Painters naturally exhibit their art over a very long period of time. I think it gave me an eye for looking at the world in one long, continuous stroke. So now it’s become a little challenging for me to write lyrics these days. I’ve become more cautious.

Why is it so challenging? RM: I used to have so many ideas pouring out that it was hard to pluck one out. So I would stack them up like a Jenga tower and ponder over which one to remove. But now, it’s hard to even add a block to the stack. I’m not sure why but, when I look at these artists whose works span their entire lives, I sense that the rhythm of my creativity is slowing down more and more. That’s the source of my dilemma. I’m only 27 years old. I still need to wander around and get tripped up a little. But am I just trying to imitate what the fine artists are doing? Or maybe BTS experienced so much in the past seven years, that now it’s time for us to take a breather? I’ve got so many questions, I feel like my hair’s turning white. That’s why none of my songs are on the album. I wrote some, but they were too personal to use there. I don’t exactly like myself like this, but I have to see through to the end in this direction and find the answer.

Maybe for that reason, your rapping has shifted focus to the lyrics more so than trend or musicality. It emphasizes the feeling of the words over a particular format or beat. RM: Exactly. In—was it 2017? Pdogg was talking to Yoongi, Hobi and me about our style, and said, “Namjoon, it feels like you’re becoming a lyricist,” and it really stuck with me. I have a lot of thoughts lately when I watch Show Me the Money or listen to hip hop songs from the Billboard chart. My music started out all about my life as a rapper, so I spend a lot of time thinking about where I am now.

So you’ve started to ask yourself who you are as a musician? RM: I listened to Lee So-ra’s seventh album again today. I keep changing my mind but, if I had to pick between her sixth and seventh album, I like her seventh a little more. And then I listen to the most popular songs on Billboard, and I feel kind of thrown off. Um … There’s something Whanki Kim said that’s been running around in my head lately: After moving to New York, he embraced the style of artists like Mark Rothko and Adolf Gottlieb, but then he said, “I’m Korean, and I can’t do anything not Korean. I can’t do anything apart from this, because I am an outsider.” And I keep thinking that way, too. That’s my main concern lately.

You can feel that on BE. As the members take on more prominent roles as songwriters and producers, characteristics of old Korean music—the kind of music you likely listened to in middle and high school—gradually entered your sound. But your music isn’t from that era, and it sounds like pop, but not quite. RM: The sound has to fit with the whole album so I couldn’t incorporate that feel into BTS songs, but the songs I’m listening to most lately have been Korean. Songs like P-Type’s “Don Quixote,” Dead’P’s “Spread My Wings,” Soul Company’s album The Bangerz. The impressions the songs from back then have left on me, the lyrics from back then and the lyrics from now, they’re different. So BE is both Korean and pop; it’s very unique, in my view.

I think that’s especially true for “Life Goes On.” It’s got a pop melody, but compared to “Dynamite,” it has a very different feel. It doesn’t slip deep into the sentimental, instead allowing the melody to flow naturally. RM: Exactly. The chorus is totally pop, and one of the writers was also American. But the song doesn’t really follow American music trends, weirdly. So I don’t know how “Life Goes On” is going to be received. It’s really calm, almost contemplative. So there’s lyrics, like, “Like an echo in the forest,” and, “Like an arrow in the blue sky.” The song kind of feels like that: It could just float off and disappear. It might even come off as bland next to “Dynamite.”

If nothing else, it seems the song will stick around for a long time. Maybe kids now will listen to it later on in the future. RM: I hope so. That’s the one thing I really hope for, people in the future, thinking back and saying, “Oh, right! Remember that one song?” That’s what my favorite artists and other people who leave a lasting impression on me have in common. One thing common among the songs that have affected me a lot, like Lee So-ra’s seventh album, is that the lyrics they utter in their voice along with the overall sound stick with me. I hope when people look back, my words uttered with the sound of my voice, echoes for a long time in an auditory or visual way, or even throughout their entire lives. But that’s the dilemma: We have all these bling-bling symbols of our success, but we’re not that kind of team.

And yet, BTS’s career path is even more “bling-bling” than ever. “Dynamite” was the top song on the Billboard Hot 100. RM: I was the first one to check our position (laughs) but I didn’t want to get too excited about it. I was scared of facing disappointment so I put the brakes on out of habit, and restrained myself. But on the other hand, I feel like I should relish this moment. This is a once-in-a-lifetime thing; shouldn’t I enjoy myself a bit? But I disliked that sensation of only feeling elated so I tried to be as objective as possible. I was just one small part of everything that made this happen.

It reminds me of that part, “Running faster than that cloud of rain /  Thought that would be enough / Guess I’m only human after all,” from “Life Goes On.” RM: “Only human” sounds so appropriate for me right now. One time, I saw a dark cloud over the N Seoul Tower while I was walking along the Han River. I was with a friend and we talked about where the border between where it’s raining and where it’s not might be, and suddenly, we came up with the idea to run and find that spot. But after running for 10 minutes, the cloud was even further away than it had been. At that moment, the puzzle pieces snapped into place. You think you can go faster than that dark cloud? No. That’s what I realized then. And I just like what Whanki Kim said, that maybe I can’t do anything not Korean, because that’s what I am. I used to work late and then stay up all night when things weren’t working out, sometimes walking from Samseong to Sinsa station, thinking everything through. But now, like the saying, I realize that maybe I can’t do more than what I am.

On Weverse, you said that you gained some muscle from working out. Could the change to your body improve your creativity in the long term? RM: I started to think I better change myself a little, physically or mentally. I’m talking about being steady. I used to bombard myself with challenges and worries and just get over them, but now I think it’s time to find that one sturdy thing and plant myself there. The best choice was working out, and I think it’s changing my behavior a lot. I’m hoping that, if I keep working out for a year or two, I’ll become a different person.

Music is your job, but also your life. Like you expressed in “Dis-ease,” how would you say you feel about your work? RM: This is my job and my calling and I feel a great sense of responsibility. I think I’m lucky and happy that I can solely worry about my creative process. And I feel very responsible to those people who put their trust in me, so I try not to cross any lines, judge myself honestly, and always be professional. Those are the responsibilities that come with the job—the things I have to do and the promises I won’t betray. But if I’m going to do it, I’m going to be happy while I do it. That’s not always going to be possible, but that’s generally how I feel.

Well then, how do you feel about BTS at the moment? RM: BTS is … Well, it’s really hard to tell. (laughs) When BTS started out, I thought, “I know everything there is to know about BTS,” but now it’s, “I don’t know a single thing about BTS.” In the past, I felt like I knew everything, and that anything was possible. Call it childish or ambitious. But if I were to ask myself, “What is BTS to me?” I would say, we’re just people who met each other because we were meant to. But it feels like the stars aligned and a startup company became a unicorn, with perfect timing and lots of smart people. Looking back, there were a lot of ironies and contradictions in this industry. I thought I figured them out one by one, and then finally understood the whole thing. But now I feel like I don’t know anything at all. Anyway, to sum up: My young, reckless twenties. The events of my twenties. There were a lot of contradictions, people, fame, and conflict all tangled together, but it was my choice and I got a lot out of it, so my twenties were an intense but also happy time.

And what about you, as one individual person? RM: I’m a real Korean person. (laughs) A person who wants to do something in Korea. I think millennials are charging into society stuck between the analog and digital generations, and what I chose is BTS. So I try to integrate myself into our generation, try to understand what people like me are thinking, and try to work hard to capture that feeling without being a burden on them. This might be another kind of irony itself, but this is who I am. I’m a 27-year-old Korean. That’s what I think.

Trans © Weverse

[dancingamongstdust]

MHA Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 4)

Requests are still open as of this post.

Shigaraki

You hadn’t meant to cause that level of destruction. It was an accident.

But they hadn’t seen it that way.

Their words followed you even when they could not. You could hear the accusations ringing in your head whenever you used your quirk – for better, or for worse. It became easier to ignore as you slowly learned to stop caring.

Until your quirk went out of control again.

You woke up in a dark room with a pounding headache and exhausted limbs. The doctor who was looking after you (a man you were relatively certain had no actual medical knowledge) had gotten very close and asked how much you remembered. When you informed him that it wasn’t much, he had smiled.

“Well, you certainly drew attention to yourself,” he had laughed. “Perhaps you should consider yourself lucky that the heroes didn’t get to you first.”

“I guess so…”

Something warned you that this situation was more dangerous than it seemed. Your eyes drifted over the covered windows of the room and you stared at the door. “Why did you help me?”

“Well that’s hardly for me –“

He didn’t get a chance to answer before you dashed for the exit. The doctor’s quirk didn’t allow him to grab you and his alarmed shout was all you heard before you were darting down the hallway. You weren’t going to stick around and get experimented on.

You turned the corner, heart pounding in your chest. They must have given you something because you felt drowsy. The entire world was spinning.

But you had to nearly trip yourself up to avoid running directly into somebody as you sprinted down a different hallway.

This was hardly your first time dealing with villains and many of them had odd quirks, to say the least. It shouldn’t have shocked you to see somebody with a human hand on their face but maybe the medication was lowering your tolerance because it was terrifying.

“Who are you?” you snapped out, immediately on the defense. You took a step away, ready to run or fight, whichever seemed easiest.

The man didn’t seem too bothered by your snap at least; the one eye that you could see watched you steadily from behind his hand mask. “I’m sure you’re not meant to be running around here,” he said. “But you’re no hero so you must be here for your quirk. Do you still have it?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

It wasn’t unknown in the underground that there was a man who stole quirks he liked. Nobody knew what he did with them but it wasn’t unheard of for villains to wake up with nothing. And you would never get them back.

You could feel your quirk was still there. It pulsed under your skin like a warning.

“My quirk?” you repeated. “I have my quirk.”

You did a random gesture, summoning all of your past acting experience to appear horrified when nothing happened. Again and again you tried before looking around in shock and horror.

The guy bought it and he shrugged. “Then there’s no reason to stop you.” He brushed past you and continued walking. “Not like you could find the exit anyway.”

The moment he turned the corner, you dropped the act and bolted again. This place was a maze but you found the exit and avoided any encounters with a practiced ease. Before leaving, you looked back up at the building and grimaced, hoping to never see it again.

Toga

It was late at night when you had the strangest encounter of your life. Not that that was a bad thing necessarily but it was something that occurred, nevertheless.

You had been feeling quite exhausted from a long day of fun with your friends. They had headed off to get a cab when you had realised that you needed the bathroom and disappeared to go find one.

There was a public toilet not too far from the street though it certainly wasn’t as clean as you would have hoped. Not to be deterred, you slipped in and found a sight that, even to your exhausted mind was uncomfortable.

A girl stood in front of one of the mirrors, blood staining much of her face. It covered the counter beneath her fingers and seemed to be coming from her lip.

“Are you okay?!” you asked, panicked.

She looked up at you, startled. Her dark hair covered much of her expression but she seemed a little out of it. Maybe she got hit on the head or something.

“I –“ she paused, her voice croaky and sore. She brought her hand up to rub her throat. “I think so.”

“Just wait, let me help you,” you said. You rushed into one of the stalls and gathered up some toilet paper. “Do you need me to call somebody or?”

“No,” she said quickly. “No. Thank you.”

You offered some of the damp tissue to her and she started wiping it away from her mouth. While she dealt with that, you cleaned the blood that she had left on the counter, making sure to get it out of all the cracks in and around the sink. “What happened to you?” you asked. “Did somebody attack you?”

“I slipped,” she said. “The tiles are really slippery and I think that I hit my mouth on the sink. It’s all kind of blurry.”

“Don’t worry,” you said, digging through your bag and grabbing some headache tablets. You offered the bottle to her. “Take two of those just in case. Even if it doesn’t hurt now, you don’t want to wake up with a headache tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Do I still have any blood on me?”

“Just on your jaw,” you pointed out. “Come on, my friends and I are getting a cab. We can call one for you also if you need.”

She took one last glance in the mirror before leaving. You had forgotten your own need for the bathroom and it was for good reason also. If you had hung around for a little longer, you may have seen blood trickling out from one of the stalls. Perhaps then you wouldn’t have been so worried about this stranger hitting her head.

“What’s your name?” you asked as you looked around for your friends.

“Toga,” the girl said, though she didn’t seem too happy with having told you. The words must have slipped out without her meaning to.

You gave her your own name and went up onto your toes to look around the crowd for your friends. Eventually you spotted them and waved but when you spoke to Toga, she didn’t respond.

She had disappeared into the crowd.

You went back into the bathroom and checked but she was long gone. Just like how the blood has escaped your notice earlier, you didn’t see the blonde watching you from the other side of the street, her head tilted a little.

Dabi

It was a rare day when you found yourself alone without at least one person to watch your back. You didn’t always need the protection but sometimes, it was nice to have.

But you had given your word and it wouldn’t do to back out of this now.

The building where everything had been organised was old and crumbling – its ancient nature hidden on the outskirts of the city and slowly becoming overtaken by countless plants. It wasn’t somewhere anybody with good intentions would find themselves.

You liked to think that your work was good. It benefitted many and took only from those who could afford to lose it. Unfortunately though, rules had to be broken for the best results, and sometimes what was classified as ‘wrong’ turned out to be needed in order to achieve a goal. It wasn’t quite in line with what you believed but it had to be done.

Did working with villains make you uncomfortable? Of course. But it was hardly going to be something that stopped you from moving forward.

The two members from the League of Villains that had been sent to meet you were both men. You didn’t bother with greetings, just holding up the briefcase that you held.

“I’m looking for a specific artwork,” you said. “I’ve been told that you might be able to help?”

“An artwork?” the one asked. He wore a white and black mask that concealed most of his face and an extremely gaudy costume.

“Not just an artwork,” you explained. “It has something of mine hidden in the canvas. Normally, I would just get the police involved but if they found it, it would be quite problematic for me. The group that stole it won’t listen to many but the League of Villains, I’m afraid. They have a few good quirks and they’re extremely cocky for it.”

“We’re not lapdogs,” the other man said. “Especially not for whatever agenda you’re pushing.”

“I don’t pay lapdogs,” you acknowledged. “Consider me a sponsor.”

Flames cackled into existence in his hand, surprising his colleague enough to jump a little. “Chances are, they’ve already found your thing. Even if they haven’t, the league can hardly go around picking fights with random gangs.”

“Shigaraki did ask –“

The masked man was cut off by a glare. Blue flames sent flickering light through the air as they waited patiently for your answer.

“If it’s already been discovered or if it happens to get damaged during the process, then I don’t plan on getting anything out of our deal. It’ll simply be a loss on my side.”

The flames slowly flickered out and you allowed yourself to breathe again. Confidence was a requirement for these deals but you didn’t quite have the nerves of steel that you portrayed. It was always a fight to keep your reactions in check.

“I guess if we happen to bump into the group, we can check around for your shit.”

You knew his bluff as well as your own. The League of Villains had always worked well with those who had money. They required funding and wouldn’t say no to being able to flex their reputation around the underground. It was almost needed with the way rumours were circulating.

It was less than a week after that encounter when you found your artwork sitting outside your home. Charred on the edges, it was damaged enough to make the art itself worthless. But your items inside were perfectly unharmed.

Not bad for your first time working alongside the League of Villains. It was worth the cost… you should do it more in the future.

Twice

When you had been called in for this job, you had no idea that it was going to turn into a fight of the magnitude you experienced.

Flames tore along the streets. They melted lamps and trapped hundreds inside buildings – the screams for help becoming almost deafening as you broke down yet another wall to get civilians out. It was the third building you had had to smash into and there were more yet.

Nobody could get out and, if they remained trapped, they wouldn’t survive much longer.

When your partner and you had realised you were dealing with the League of Villains, you had immediately called in the big guns. What you hadn’t realised was that doing so would result in a brawl of sorts in the streets. The League of Villains didn’t care about collateral and honestly, sometimes you wondered if the heroes did.

You were starting to overheat. The amount of fire swirling around was getting to you, drawing the breath from your lungs and slowing your movements. Its angry blue nature hinted at its abysmal nature.

The next building’s walls took even longer to get through but you managed it and a few people scrambled out. You ushed as best as you could although it was starting to get hard to speak.

But then you noticed a dark figure lying in one of the rooms

Outside, the fire roared and smacked against the walls but you couldn’t just leave somebody there. You stepped over the rubble and made your way to the figure.

It was hard to make out details with the flames. The heat seemed to be getting worse as you approached – soon identified as being caused by the gaping hole in the wall. It radiated around the room in waves. You covered your mouth and nose the best you could, creeping forward to reach where the person was.

When you arrived, it took you no time to recognise that you weren’t saving an unfortunate civilian but rather a member of the League itself.

You hesitated for a second before hooking your arms under his and beginning to drag him away from the danger. This was the type of thing that lost reputation for heroes. Civilians didn’t like seeing villains being rescued but you honestly didn’t care.

If he was left there, he was probably going to end up dying.

Though he had seemed unconscious, when you got him out of the building, he muttered something and moved. It was enough to make you jump back but he didn’t attack or anything. He just touched his face and then let his arm go limp again.

You moved back cautiously. His suit had been ripped on the one side, missing its arm and half of the torso. You checked his pulse, relieved to feel that it was still going, even if it was unsteady.

“Can you hear me?” you asked.

He didn’t respond and you reached up to remove his mask. His hand immediately snapped up to grab your wrist and you prepared to activate your quirk but all he did was push your arm away from his face.

Alright then. No touching the mask.

You bandaged the open wound on his side as best as you could. It looked like he had gotten launched through the building. Once he was as stable as he could be, you moved him to a safer area and jumped back into the fray. A ton of rescues later and the heroes had won, at the destruction of much property.

And, rather unsurprisingly, the villain you had saved was long gone.

Overhaul

There was a new drug running around the market. You had heard of a number of small-time villains taking it – most of them dying shortly after consumption. It wasn’t unheard of. If something had even the promise of a good time then it would attract thousands.

But what was a problem was that you had lost several of your newest underlings as a direct result of this drug.

Given how picky you were about hiring, this was going to be a problem.

You tracked the source to none other than the Shie Hassaikai. They were an old branch of the yakuza, sitting on the edge of a downward spiral into irrelevance. Rumors followed that their boss had fallen quite ill and now, it was only a matter of time until they fell completely on their faces.

So you didn’t feel too nervous when you approached the house that fronted their main base. Even with the members watching you from the bushes, you kept a straight line.

You weren’t unknown. It would do them a great disservice to attack you.

And they knew it.

You walked in the front door with absolutely no resistance and remained unsurprised when two masked men came out to greet you. They didn’t ask about your business or enquire as to who you were. Instead, they led you into a sitting room and gestured for you take a seat.

Instead of that, you walked around the room and picked up everything that looked interesting. Nothing was hidden around but you hadn’t expected there to be.

“Please don’t touch things without gloves on,” a smooth voice interrupted your curiosity. “Cleaning this entire house is rarely needed and I’d rather you didn’t change that.”

You turned around to find somebody considerably younger than you had expected for the head of the Shie Hassaikai. He wore their signature mask and a feathered coat, almost his entire body hidden in some way.

“Not a fan of germs?” you enquired.

“Not at all.”

You shrugged and made your way to the couch, sinking down into it. “Guess that means no drinks or anything? Oh well, that’s too bad.” You gestured for him to sit.  “So, you’re not who I was expecting.”

“You’ve never worked with our organisation before,” he said, sitting on the edge of the chair opposite you.

“No. You’re not in the same line of work as me and I don’t care too much about the Yakuza.”

“Then why are you here?”

You straightened, aware that you were about to get into the most dangerous part of the meeting. “Your drugs have been getting into my areas. Now, I don’t care all too much about how you distribute stock but it’s not just coming into possession of low-life criminals. My men are getting practically gifted it.”

His eyes narrowed. “We need to test it somehow. Besides, that sounds like a problem for you, no? Have better control of your men.”

“Keep your test tube shit out of my territories.”

A small staring contest took place – a test to see who would break first. You had been in almost a hundred of these over the course of your career. They didn’t bother you much at all in anymore.

Eventually he waved his hand through the air. “I guess we could stop supply to traders in your areas but this isn’t a charity.”

“I could kill your men.”

“But you would lose your own in the process. Wouldn’t it be easier to do this the peaceful way and maybe even establish a relationship between our two groups?”

“You have my attention. Don’t waste it.”

Kurogiri

There are those days when everything begins so well only to rapidly spiral into a situation out of your worst dreams. This was something like that.

You had gotten horribly caught in the crossfire of a battle between heroes and villains. It all occurred faster than you could have ever imagined – flashes of light and explosions of sound. People were screaming, the sound coming through a haze as you tried to get a grasp on what had happened.

Blood was trickling down your arm but you felt no pain. You slowly lifted your head. Something had hit you, you remembered that now as your brain caught up to the dull ache coming from your ribcage.

You tried to move, finding that you couldn’t. The ache became worse and a heavy, scraping sound interrupted your attempts to crawl away.

It was a piece of concrete, heavy and painful, pinning you effectively to the ground. A smaller chunk was holding it up and stopping you from being crushed. But if you moved too much…

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, nearly choking on the dust that filled the air. Maybe if you shifted slowly.

A crunching noise made you hiccup.

Alright, so that wasn’t going to work either. You strained your eyes to see through the carnage but you couldn’t make out any heroes. They would come eventually; you just had to wait patiently and try not to move too much.

The concrete seemed to get heavier still and you fought the desire to cry.

There was a crunching sound. You couldn’t just wait around.

Slow as you dared, you began to inch forward. The rough surface snagged at your clothing and made every centimeter feel like it was going to end with you crushed. Worse still, the more you moved, the more apparent the injury on your back became.

The blood that had been trickling down your arm was now creeping along your torso. It pooled in your clothes and made everything sticky.

You tried not to think about it but it made you light-headed regardless.

About half-way out, you spotted somebody nearby. It was just their silhouette but still, relief flooded your veins and you cried out desperately for help.

The figure made its way over to you, soon revealing that the man was almost entirely made of smoke. He wore a suit and tie but his body swirled as though only somewhat solid. Bright yellow eyes stared at you – any emotion behind them was completely unreadable.

His eyes traced your shape. “You’re not who I’m looking for.”

“Please help me. This thing’s going to crush me.”

He paused, the swirling darkness that made up his face shuddered as though it was unsure how to respond. “I should leave you here,” he mentioned. “You’re of no consequence to me or to my cause. If anything, I should add pressure to the piece of rubble and make sure the fatality numbers are higher.”

You caught of whimper before it could escape. “Please.”

His smoke shook again, almost as though he was struggling to keep hold of it. Then he raised a foot and placed it on the concrete.

You screwed your eyes shut and tried to imagine the best parts of life.

A loud horn blaring made you open them again and a surprised yelp escaped as you saw tires race past in front of you. People were shouting, their voices loud and nearby. Bright lights surrounded you and the air was clear once more.

The last thing you remembered seeing was a panicked nurse rushing over to you.

[theodora3022]

Playing tricks with the trickster

Summary: Failed escape attempt from yandere Childe. He lets you play your cards, even playing along, just for his own amusement.

Notes: My first genshin piece yay... I had a sweet and terrible dream of me running from Childe in the woods. Also some inspiration was drawn from @cinnamonest‘s this post, one big virtual hug to her! I hope I did Childe justice, what can I say I love manipulative smiling boys. It has become a pattern as I dash from one fandom to another. This is had turned out to be longer then I expected...Ginger boy demands my time and energy too much omg. Mind the warnings, although there is nothing extreme in this.

Fun fact, I was looping to Nintendo game by Alessia Cara when writing this down. I believe it fits the theme of this fic quite well.

Tagging: @akutaguagua a great friend who patiently beta-read this mess of a horror dream and gave me lots of kind praises! 

(Offical art belongs to miHoYo! This is a cover page of this video, if there is any issues, contact me and I will remove it at once)

Warnings: Implied past abduction,dub-con touching, mild degradation, drugging(not on reader), implied non-con/dub-con at the end, this is not healthy love and I do not condone this irl.

It has been nearly a month since the youngest Fatui Harbinger had “taken you in”. After a few tries, you were too horrified by the punishments to continuously fight him. You learned on the first day that Childe’s smiling, the friendly mask would come off towards you. Your behaviour would decide if that is a curse or a “blessing”.

So you had quieted down, struggling to restrain yourself from yelling or screaming, carefully not to provoke his anger. Despite being compliant to his orders, you never truly showed him any affection either. Sure, you would sit on his lap if he asked, but you never initiated anything intimate with him. No matter how much Tartaglia spoiled you with clothes, books, jewelry or other luxuries, he is still the one who holds the commanding end of your shackles. It’s the best not to get used to all of that when your sight is set on the door.

Although he has taken your freedom away, you are not kept in a windowless room. On the contrary, you have too many outings now. Wherever he goes, you have to be present in a 2m radius, including meetings. Being a Harbinger is no easy job, so he prefers not having to worry about your safetly during buisness hours. The best way to do that is never let you out of his sight.

“Love, no one should witness our little problems. Well, no one alive that is.” Of course you wouldn’t want to put innocent people's lives at stake. You never dared to act out when you two are in public, and no one would bat an eye if a Fatui had taken a lover. 

You had taken an emotionless approach towards him. If Childe wants a kiss on the cheek, you’ll give him a quick light peck. If he wants breakfast, you’ll go make some pancakes with the topping he likes. Luckily, Childe had not done anything too extreme yet. If cuddling to sleep does not count as extreme that is. The only time you slipped up is when he suddenly hugs you from behind when you’re cooking.  

You thought maybe, just maybe, by being as boring and dull as you could, this bastard might just get tired of you and let you go. Childe only loves the fun of it right? Or maybe it could lower his guard.

Oh, how naive you are. You should have known better than to underestimate a Fatui harbinger. See, this is exactly why he needs to keep you around. Yes, unfortunately for you, Childe loves you, so very much. Speaking to him with a monotone voice isn’t going to alter that fact.

You have been devoid of emotions as of late. While Childe does appreciate fewer screams for the sake of his eardrums, this schemer can sense you are up to something. Perhaps this is the peace before your “storm”(he thought of it more like a drizzle)

You want to play a game? Okay, why not? Childe cannot wait to see what tricks you got on those sleeves. Are you ever getting away? Does an amateur ever win when they play a game with a professional trickster? Never.

Still, nothing bites like a cornered rat. You are no airhead, and he is fully aware of that. Just not as cunning and observent as him, that’s all.

The way you just kept your emotions sealed up is impressive, even to someone like him. Even when he got hansy, you did not flinch and just stared at the corner. Childe can only catch faint glimpses of anger when you thought he wasn’t looking.

Hm, when are you pulling your trigger? Tonight, or tomorrow night? Not that Childe is impatient, anything from you is worth waiting. But he would need to dismiss his patrolling underlings in the nearby woods beforehand. No extras would be allowed to disturb this game.

There is no chance during the day, a somewhat mutual understanding for you two. Night time in comparison, is a different story. 

Anyone’s sleeping hours is their most vulnerable time of the day, Childe is no exception. You do not plan to harm him, not that you don’t want to. But you are willing to swallow the pent up frustration towards him if you would never see his face again after this. Maybe beating up some slimes would help with the release?

You somehow managed to slip a mixture of herbs into his tea. Since he would buy cooking ingredients for you from time to time, you had requested a bunch of herbs along with the ingredients of a sleep inducing medicine you remembered. Although Childe does all he can to keep you near him, there are inevitable hours that he needs to be somewhere without you. He cannot jeopardize your safety with troublesome monsters. On a side note, he loves showing you off to anyone, his colleagues, acquaintances, business partners, anyone he does not deem a threat.

Enough time for you to make those herbs into powder and cover it up with a few spoons of milk. Tea with milk has become quite popular in Liyue as of late. Childe has grown to love them, so you have learned how to mix it up. He always let you handle his food and drinks, saying that he “trusts you”. What you do not know is this is one of the openings he exposed on purpose. It’s not like you can aquire anything deadly under his suffocating supervision.

Your plan will work, or so you think. Childe will not wake up when you wiggle out of his grasp, because dreamland will keep him occupied. All you need is a glider and a usable sword from Liyue and you’ll get your life back. Bottling up extreme emotions has certainly taken a toll on your mind, but it will be worth it if that is the prerequisite of being free.

Something about this being so easy sits ill with you. Have you really been with the youngest Fatui Harbinger this whole time? But that was brushed off your shoulders by the sheer excitement of regaining your long lost freedom. You know Liyue is in walking distance, all you need to do is cross these woods and-

The moment you dive into the forest, you think you heard an amused chuckle. 

That smooth voice terrifies you to no end, the same voice you took orders from for the past month.

Oh, how Childe loves seeing you happy. It’s priceless, both literally and figuratively. No matter how many things he buys you, you had not shown him even one small smile. Enjoy your sweet freedom, because it ain’t going to last. You certainly will know your place after this right? If not you are just dumber then he give you credit for.

That glow of relief in your eyes is worth every last bit of this intense dizzying feeling to Childe. To make sure your plan go through, he had drunk the tea without hesitation, quick enough to catch the momentarily excitement you expressed. He knows the game is on, therefore he had given the night patrol guards the entire evening off. Forcing himself to stay concious by digging his nails into his palms, Childe followed you into the woods.

Your potion is quite strong. Excellent, you’ll have to give him the recipe for informational purposes later. Especially how you managed to achieve such effects with a few herbs you had. He never took you to be anything less than a smart girl, but this has exceeded his expectations. Where’s the fun in a game without challenges?

How you storm through the forest wearing that cute terrified expression looks so endearing, it’s surely not his fault if he wants to enjoy this sight to be longer right.

So, each time you feel the slightest at ease due to whatever reason, expect Childe to make some sound to send you running like your life depends on it again. The sadistic man is hunting you down playfully, like a cat chasing a stray mouse to the inevitable corner.

You know he is toying with you. There is nothing you can do to make him shut up though.

“Love, you had scratched your leg. Must hurts by the looks of it.”

“Liyue is that way, you know.”

“Are you tired? If you want to jog in the middle of the night, you should have called me to come along!”

How can he say those things nonchalantly while you are trying to escape from him?  Here he is, daunting you with that signature smile he wears so very often. That is when reality slaps you right in the face. No matter how hard you plan, no matter how fast you run, there is no getting rid of him.

When your stamina runs out, a simple pull and push on your left wrist is enough to let you fall onto the ground panting. Even now, you still refuse to beg for mercy. You would take the cold grounds to the warmth of Childe’s embrace anyday. 

“Aw, burnt out already? Pathetic. Looks like we need to work on your stamina more. But this is not the place for exercise.”

“Look at me.” His slender but forceful fingers tilt your head up, making you look into those ocean blue orbs. There is anger present in his eyes, but those emotions are more a mixture of delight and that. His smile had also been replaced by a mocking smirk. “You, trying to leave me? Your sense of humor is...well, let’s just call it unique. Lucky for you, you amused me nonetheless.”

“I know what you’re thinking. How I’m a selfish jerk and you hate me. Why be so ungrateful? You get to live in luxury thanks to me, you know. I am selfish, yes, but look how stupid you are. I know you added something extra in my evening tea, my beloved.”

“Come now, we are going to do some exercises suited for a night like this once we’re back home. It is our one month milestone, after all. You had already given me your gift, it is only fair for you that I do the same.”

Childe is not making a sarcastic remark. The thrill of that chase was the best fun he had in months. And you are going to love his gift too, maybe not right away, but surely sometimes after. 

You have to mentally prepare yourself for the worst as he dragged you back to the prison, hopefully you’ll still be able to walk properly after whatever Childe got in store.

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Osborn’s 5✩ Inspiration: Black VS Black [黑色对峙] Date Translation (END 6: Heart-throb)

“Do you really think that I think there’s no helping you?”

*Light and Night Master-list | Osborn’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This 5✩ Inspiration has 6 Endings!! *Osborn’s tag will be #For Night, For Freedom *Requested by anon! You can check my on-going requests and more here!

✥ Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

The cat caused an incident! What should I do?

⊹ Check the fallen model ⊹

I didn’t think too much about it, instead, hurrying over to where the car model had fallen. 

I picked it up and inspected the damages.

There was a long crack in the middle and several parts had broken off, scattering compartments all over the floor.

MC: Can this… still be saved…?

Just as I was thinking of how to break this bad news to Osborn, his low voice sounded from behind.

Osborn: What a big commotion.

Osborn: What? Did Mitt get into an accident?

I steeled myself and stopped covering the scene of the “car accident” that had occurred. I got up and handed him the car model that I held.

MC: The “culprit” knocked this car model down and fled.

Osborn frowned, reaching me in a couple of long strides.

He took the model and turned it around a couple of times, observing it with an indifferent look on his face.

MC: Is it too damaged to fix?

Osborn: I can just send it for repairs over the next few days. Let's go look for the cat first.

He calmly placed the broken car model back onto the shelf, taking a “let’s talk about this later” stance.

This model had been placed together with many other car models that looked new, pristine, and without a scratch. Not to mention, the glistening trophy that had been right next to it. A wild guess entered my mind.

MC: Do all the car models here hold some sort of commemorative meaning?

Osborn: Hm? Why do you ask?

MC: I mean, if they are some sort of special memento to you, then they should have been subjected to routine maintenance, right?

MC: If so, then you should also have the tools for it along with any part replacements, yes?

Thoughtfulness slipped into his eyes.

Osborn: You want to help me fix it?

MC: Yeah! That cat was just spooked real bad, and it wouldn’t do us any good if it got a bigger fright the next time and reacted even worse to it if we continued chasing after it.

MC: So, why don’t we leave the cat hunt for later and fix the car model back up first?

MC: Plus, I’m pretty dexterous with my hands. Wanna give me a chance to show you my prowess?

He raised an eyebrow, his pale green eyes glinting.

Osborn: Okay. Here's your time to shine.

Osborn stretched his arms over my head. For a while, all I could see was his broad chest. I felt my breath hitch.

Then, he suddenly lowered his head. His face was incredibly close to mine.

The scent of black cedar assaulted my nose. I blinked. My brain was lagging.

MC: Oh, okay.

Osborn: Take it.

My gaze slid to his hand. Turns out that he’d just been fetching the toolbox that had been in the cabinet above the display shelves.

Osborn: I'm waiting.

I took the toolbox from him and opened it.

I was greeted by a multitude of components in all shapes and sizes. Some of the tools in it were similar to the ones I used when making my designs, but there were also some that I’d never seen before.

I picked up a tool that looked like a cross between a pen and a knife, looking to Osborn for advice.

MC: What's this?

Osborn: An exacto knife. It’s used to cut off excess parts of the joints when required.

MC: Mmhm, okay. I've remembered it.

Osborn: This is a cutting plier, screw sanders, tweezers...

Osborn picked out a couple more tools from within the box and introduced them to me.

Osborn: Anything else you can't recognize?

MC: Not for now.

Osborn: Okay. Then let's remove the damaged compartments first.

MC: Okay.

First, we used a screwdriver to remove the damaged compartments. Then, we replaced them with brand-new spare parts.

This race car model was really different from those being sold out in the market. It was made with exquisite craftsmanship, and its internal makings were far more complicated than I'd initially thought.

When it was time to add colours to it, Osborn prepared the required paints and set them out in measured portions onto the palette with ease and finesse. He smoothly handed me a brush.

Osborn: Do you know how to touch up the paintwork?

I hesitated.

MC: I've painted outfit designs before for design needs, but I'm sure it's completely different from actually painting a model.

MC: I don't know if it works the same…

Osborn: See my demonstration first then.

He dipped his brush into the red paint, carefully painting it onto the model. It came out very uniform and smoothly layered.

I'd stared at him, watching him do it a couple more times. But, no matter how much I watched the same process, I couldn't quite grasp it. Even if I tried mimicking his actions, my paintwork always turned out patchy and uneven.

Osborn laughed, placing his hand over mine and directing the brush I held.

He directed my brush, guiding me on how I should be painting the compartment with a focused look on his face.

It was all serious and business, except… My focus was inevitably drawn towards his movements and breaths.

Osborn: Get it?

MC: Mmhm...

I tried my hardest to remember the way he did it and followed suit. The end result was much smoother than what I'd been accomplishing before.

After the finishing touches were in place, I raised the model and showed it to him.

MC: Like… this? This should be done now, right?

Osborn: Not bad. You've got standard.

My spirits soared at having received such direct praise from him.

MC: Since I'm such an apt learner, how about enlisting my help again the next time you make another model of a race car?

Osborn slightly raised a brow as he contemplated my paint-stained hands.

Osborn: I'll think about it.

MC: Does this even need to be considered?

MC: I'm pretty quick to pick up hands-on skills, not just fixing up models of racing cars! So I'm a fast learner no matter what it is!

MC: You can test me again if you don't believe me!

Just as I was boasting about my assets in an attempt to make myself appeal to him, Osborn's calloused fingers suddenly brushed against my cheek.

The rough texture of the pads of his fingers made my heart skip a beat.

MC: What's wrong?

Osborn: You got something on your face.

I doubtfully touched my face. Suddenly, I pulled my hand away to find my fingers stained with red paint.

Astonished, I look at Osborn's hands, only to find even more red paint on them…

MC: Don't tell me you drew something on it!!

Osborn: What gives?

MC: Hey! You're biting the hand that feeds!

Osborn: Whatever do you mean by that?

Osborn: I'm just adding some blush and colour to your face. Makes you prettier.

I was taken aback, nonetheless.

MC: Okay. Then, I'll add some colour to your cheeks for you!

Osborn: Whoa, hey! Easy!

MC: Nothing you say now is gonna stop me!

I swiftly picked up the brush and dipped it into the paint set out onto the palette, rushing straight for his face.

Osborn quickly reared back, but I subconsciously followed right after his retreat.

And this was how I toppled him down to the ground with him doing nothing to defend himself.

Osborn was astonished. He'd attempted to get back up, only for my other hand to immediately dart out to pin him down by the shoulder.

MC: No moving!

Surprise flashed through his eyes, as his usual impish smile crawled its way back up his face.

Osborn: Wow, what an aggressor.

MC: That's right. Now's my time to retaliate!

MC: No use trying to escape!

I circled the air with the brush, purposefully observing his face to make my mark.

MC: Hmm, what do you want me to draw on you?

Osborn seemingly accepted the fact that he was going to be an inevitable victim of mine since I already had him "pinned" down. He folded his arms behind his head, giving my question some serious thought.

Osborn: An air drawing?

MC: Dream on!

Osborn: Mercy, please. I beg you.

MC: It's too late to be begging me for mercy.

MC: Hmph. Just watch me improvise on the spot~

Just as I was rummaging through my brain for a glimmer of inspiration, a light bulb suddenly lit in my head. 

I had an image now: Mitt as it was fleeing.

❖☆———————————★❖

I leaned down, supporting myself on Osborn's shoulder. 

Following the curve of his jaw, I applied colour to his skin, drawing a colourful cat.

Osborn had his guard down, seemingly content to watch me work my "artistic talents" with him as the canvas.

The surroundings lapsed into silence.

I was drawing it on with such rapt concentration, yet I was still able to notice his long black lashes and hear his familiar steady breathing ever so clearly. I could somewhat feel the slight rise and fall of his chest.

I vaguely registered our close proximity to each other. My heart seemed unable to settle with the fact that we were so close to each other that our breaths intermingled, clamouring loudly within my chest.

I blinked twice, finishing off the last stroke before getting up and putting some distance between us.

❖☆———————————★❖

Osborn: Done?

I nodded.

Osborn: What do you think of your work of art?

Huh? Is he asking me to rate my own work?

I quickly gave him a once over, only to realize that I'd been distracted at the end, so it'd turned out a little funky. I nearly laughed at it right then and there.

MC: Ahem. I think it's not bad! You've got a big kitty on you now!

He waggled his brows, lazily raising his body halfway back up. His features were suddenly enlarged before my eyes once more as he leaned closer.

Osborn: Happy now?

MC: Mmhm… Pretty happy.

Osborn: Then let me tell you something that'll make you even happier.

He moved even closer, his words gently flowing with the air, wrapping themselves around my ears.

I shuddered as a scalding heat started creeping up my neck.

MC: ...What is it?

Osborn: The other kitty's right behind you.

Mitt: Meow~ Meow~

The last of his words were drowned out by the sudden meowing that sounded.

I snapped out of the trance of the moment, much to my embarrassment. Mitt had actually slinked behind me somehow without my knowing!

MC: Right, we should hurry and catch it before it gets up to no good again!

I quickly climbed off Osborn, flushing red as I fled.

A light chuckle sounded behind me in response.

❖☆———————————★❖

By the time we found Mitt, it was already sprawled out beside the TV cabinet with its paws stuck underneath, fiddling with something in the gap.

Recalling the layout of his living room, I quietly tip-toed and whispered my idea into Osborn’s ear.

MC: I’ll take left, you take right. We’ll pincer it.

Osborn: It’s already here, so there’s no need to go through so much trouble.

MC: Huh?

Osborn: Just wait and see.

Osborn took a couple of long strides forwards in the direction of the cat.

I followed after him, quietly approaching the black cat. However, my attention was suddenly caught by the photo frame that the cat had just been playing with.

Picking up the frame, I carefully observed it…

In the picture were Osborn and a couple of familiar-looking teammates. They’d all had an arm around each other’s shoulder, beaming as they held the same trophy.

Their faces all look much younger… Is this a photo from years ago?

The race car in the background had a red and white body with an orange rear spoiler, similar to the car model that Mitt had batted off its perch earlier.

MC: Don’t tell me… Was that car model made based on this race car?

I was lost in thought when a sudden meow broke my train of thought.

Osborn: Still wanna run?

❖☆———————————★❖

I raised my head to see Osborn with both arms raised, gently holding up the cat in question.

The bright and warm sunlight shone in through the window, carefully outlining his chiselled side-profile and the contours of his muscles.

Although Mitt had already been caught, it still glared daggers at Osborn. It was as if a cat and a human were engaged in a silent battle with each other.

After a while, Mitt seemed to register the fact that it’d lost, meowing pitifully in that soft cry once more.

❖☆———————————★❖

Osborn: Oh? You know how to beg for mercy now, don’t you?

Osborn carried Mitt to the little corner we’d set up for it. Mitt seemingly gave up on the game of chase, lowering its head to eat the cat food that we’d prepared for it since the very beginning.

Watching it eat its food so obediently, I couldn’t help but kneel down and stroke its round head.

Mitt cast a doubtful glance at me, but turned its head, indulging nuzzling itself into my palm.

MC: !

MC: I touched it! How cute…

Osborn: You’re that excited from just being able to touch it?

MC: Yeah. It looked so naughty that I thought I wouldn’t be able to touch it today.

Osborn: It’ll come running up to you for a lick or two so long as you have food.

MC: Then I MUST let it try the wet cat food! Maybe it’ll get closer to me!

I sped towards the sofa and picked up the packet of wet cat food, purposely waving it before its nose.

It couldn’t resist the offered temptation after all. Its soft fluffy paws batted at my wrist as it opened its mouth and cried its pleas.

MC: Okay, okay. Any more and you’ll end up a piggy.

I recalled something after putting away the remaining food. I picked up the photo frame that I’d set down earlier and handed it to Osborn.

MC: Oh, yeah. By the way, this was the photo frame that Mitt was batting with under the TV cabinet earlier. I don’t know where you normally display it.

He took the photo frame from me and glanced at it.

MC: And on that note, I realized that the car in the background looks very similar to the model we just pieced back together. Are they the same?

Osborn: Oh. The model was made according to this race car.

Suddenly, I recalled having seen the highlights of all his races before.

The year and month in which he’d won his first racing championship seemingly coincided with the time that this photo was taken.

My guess had tumbled out of my lips before I could stop it.

MC: Is this the car you drove when you won your first championship?

He quirked a brow.

Osborn: Why, you know me so well.

MC: Then… Is that car model something of a memento from that race?

Osborn: You can say that.

MC: I heard somewhere before that that car’s engine had to be changed out every two races. It shouldn’t be in use anymore, right?

Osborn: The engine exploded on me during that race, so it was only my companion once.

Osborn spoke lightly of it, but thinking of how exciting and terrifying it must have been back then, I couldn’t help but feel my heart sink a little.

MC: I’m glad the car model’s alright. Otherwise, it’d be such a pity for such a meaningful memento to get damaged like that.

Osborn: So I should thank you properly. Is that it?

MC: Huh? Thank me?

He chuckled lightly, his eyes sliding from the photo to my face. He had a slightly flippant look on his face.

Osborn: Weren’t you the one who made that car model more meaningful?

MC: ……

I was taken aback for a bit. I looked at him in surprise, only to find his gaze calm and gentle. There was a smile glimmering within his eyes.

Osborn: You were pretty clever when fixing the model. Why so stupefied now?

As his words sank in, I felt my heart flutter as I realized what he’d meant by having made it more “meaningful”. Something seemed to have filled my heart. It was a little flustering, yet also a little sweet.

I worried my lip and gathered my courage together before looking up to meet his eyes.

MC: Then, that makes me happier now…

MC: Although I didn’t get the chance to sit in on the race of your first championship and cheer you on…

MC: I was still able to piece the model back together and play a part in that precious moment of memory.

Inexplicable emotions surfaced in Osborn’s eyes, and in the next second, his big hand ruffled my hair with a vengeance.

Osborn: There’s really no helping you, is there?

I shyly ducked my head, but I couldn’t stop the corners of my mouth from rising.

At this moment, the sun had enveloped us both within its warmth.

The cat quietly ate by our feet, letting out a purr of satisfaction every once in a while.

Slowly but surely, unspeakable feelings started to bloom and spread within the confines of my heart.

I hope, from the deepest points of my heart, that time would always be eternally frozen in this beautiful moment.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 +3 + 4 | Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

END 5 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 6 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Freedom⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Prologue)

[snowywrites]

Yuri x popular Fem!reader

summary: fluffy fic in which the reader sees Yuri while working at a coffee shop and intends to be closer friends with her.

word count: 2.1k

"Y/N!"

You stop in your tracks, turning to scan the tables around you for the source of the voice; it was kind of familiar, and your eyes fall on a customer that's a regular here at the coffee shop. A young man around your age, usually here with his friends but alone today.

You had been about to go make another coffee for a different customer, but you force a service smile onto your face and hurry over to his table. "Hello!" You wrack your brain for a second to bring a name to this man- it wasn't easy keeping track of so many different people, and not just at your job! You also tried to keep tabs on the majority of your peers from school, too. Fortunately, it clicks a moment later. "Hatsumi, was everything alright?" You ask, noting he's already finished his pastry and drink.

Hatsumi grins, clearly pleased you had remembered him. Customers tended to get really happy over little things like that... if only they knew you did this with all of them. It was no secret you were one of the favorites here at the little shop, consistently getting better tips than many of your coworkers. "It was great!" He answers you brightly.

You nod and inquire politely, "Would you like me to go ahead and bring the bill out now?"

A moment of hesitation, and then, "Oh- uh, yes, thanks." He seems a bit disappointed, but you don't have time to dwell on it right now, not with how busy today's rush hour is. The only good thing is you're hopefully going to be getting off in about a half hour.

You assure him you'll be right back and then flit off to the counter to ring up the items he'd ordered and print the bill. As you're doing so, you feel a tap on your shoulder.

Glancing up, you see your favorite coworker, a girl several years older than you. "Y/N," she begins, a bit of a pleading look in her eyes that means she's about to ask you for a favor.

Biting back a sigh, you push down whatever annoyance you have at being interrupted to look expectantly at her. "What's up?"

"Can we please switch tables really quickly?" She practically begs you.

Switching tables wasn't too terribly uncommon- sometimes when guests came in, the baristas would know them outside of work and might ask a coworker to deal with the order and anything else.

"Sure," you giggle, ever the people-pleaser. You had a reputation to keep, after all! You don't like to brag, but you do enjoy the fact that you have many different friends and are well-liked by just about everyone you know. "Who?"

She gives a hop of delight. "Can I take the bill to Hatsumi?"

You can't help but smirk mischievously. "Ohhhhh, I see."

She lightly smacks you on the arm, instantly blushing. "Nono, I just-"

You cut her off before she can defend herself, knowing the two of you don't really have the time to waste playing around. "It's no worries. And who's that order for?" You question as you point at the circular silver tray in her hands which is holding a cute polka-dotted cup of tea.

"Ah, this goes to table three, the girl with the purple hair."

You nod, exchanging the bill for the tray. You want to watch and see what will happen between your friend and Hatsumi, if anything, but when you look towards the designated table, already heading for it, you realize you recognize the girl sitting there.

You have no trouble recalling her name. One of the members of your Literature Club, Yuri...

You haven't actually been in the club all that long at all, maybe a week-ish, and you feel like you haven't had any time at all to get properly acquainted with Yuri. Part of you feels that it's a shame, because you get the sense she's a very interesting and sweet person beneath her quiet and distant shell. It's just hard when she's always reading, and even in the rare moments she's not, she doubts herself so much during conversations with you that it just ends up being a bit weird.

But not today! No, you're suddenly filled with a sense of determination to get closer to Yuri.

You consider playfully scaring her when you walk up, but ultimately decide against it; aside from being naturally timid anyway, she's also, as usual, reading, and doesn't seem aware of anything going on in the shop around her. So, yeah, best to use a more gentle approach.

"Hey, you," you say, putting all the friendliness in your voice as possible, stopping beside the table to greet her.

In spite of everything, Yuri still jumps a bit in her seat, violet gaze flashing up to you in alarm.

'So much for trying not to scare her,' you think unhappily. Pushing that thought away, you give her a reassuring smile. "Sorry, it's just me! Y/N. We're in the Literature Club together," you try to remind her, wondering with a pang of horror if she's actually forgotten who you are. That would be a first for you.

A second of silence, but at last Yuri's tense grip on her book loosens, and she glances down at it, avoiding making eye contact. "O-Oh, I'm sorry."

Another awkward beat of silence. This was what you meant!! It always went like this with Yuri, and you wished more than anything that you knew how to make her more comfortable around you. Hoping to carry the burden of saving this interaction, you laugh nervously, "It's no worries! But, you didn't forget me, did you?" As much as you're just trying to joke around, there really is a slight feeling of hurt that that may very well have been the case.

Yuri stiffens, quickly answering, "No, I- I didn't!" It's a rushed response, louder than you've ever heard her speak and yet still quieter than most people's normal speaking voice. As if embarrassed by her small outburst, she ducks her head to add quietly, "Uhm, that is- I just meant that... I wouldn't ever forget you, Y/N."

Oh. Talk about giving someone butterflies. You never knew what to expect with Yuri- sometimes she could never get her words out, but then other times she'd say something with such a deep meaning that it would catch you entirely off guard. What's odd though is you know for a fact how truly sincere she is; Yuri is the type of person that's much deeper than most people, and she wouldn't say something if she didn't really think or believe it.

"Thank you, Yuri," you say warmly, setting her tea down near her on the table. "Here you go! I like this kind, too." Truthfully, since you hadn't taken the order yourself or even made the drink, you weren't 100% sure what kind of tea this was, but you were willing to try anything to make Yuri more at ease. It also wasn't unheard of for you to make conversation with customers, even if it was busier than usual right now- for once though, you weren't aiming to make a good tip or secure a regular customer. You genuinely wanted to talk with her. "Hey, is that the same book you're reading at the club?" You question after catching a glimpse of the cover art.

She shakes her head, causing some of her bangs to fall into her face. Brushing them out of the way, she frowns and then nods. "W-Well, kind of. I finished that one yesterday... this is the sequel," she explains.

"It must be pretty good if you want to read the next part already," you comment. "What's it about?"

As predicted, Yuri noticeably perks up. "Oh, I think you would really enjoy it, Y/N. It's about-"

"Y/N!"

You flinch at the stern voice of your shift supervisor, who apparently hadn't realized Yuri was speaking when he cut her off.

You glance back to see him gesturing at you in clear annoyance, motioning to the line of guests waiting for their drinks to be made. You nod, signaling you'll be right over.

Focusing back on Yuri, you're unable to mask your disappointment. "I'm sorry, I've gotta get back to work. I'm supposed to be off in a little bit though."

Yuri seems to also be discouraged, apologizing for keeping you, even though you're the one who had intentionally kept the talk going. She bites her lip, and then, probably overtaken by a brief moment of courage, suggests, "When you get off, maybe then I could tell you about the books?"

You're stunned, but at the same time, this was precisely what you'd been hoping for! "Yes, sure! That sounds great. I'll see you then!" You chirp, hurrying away.

The last of your shift passes by rather quickly, and when it comes time to clock out, you actually have to tell your supervisor no, you can't stay another extra hour even if they are busy, because you have plans! Normally you would have, but not today.

You meet Yuri at the door and the two of you leave the coffee shop together. The sun is close to setting, but not quite there yet. "Thank you again, Yuri! I like spending time with you, I've just been a little busy lately," you say.

Yuri mumbles something you can't quite hear, but then adds more clearly, "I-I'm glad..."

"So," you begin, clasping your hands behind you and beaming at her. "About those books!"

That's all it takes for Yuri to dive into an explanation of the main plot points as the two of you walk side by side towards your home.

You're more than a bit tired from work and standing on your feet for so long, but it's nice to have company on the walk back, especially someone like Yuri. You hum and comment every so often, honestly thinking that they did sound like the sort of books you would enjoy. Full of fantasy and mystery and thrills... and of course, romance.

"So, the main character ditches his friend, who's been with him the whole time, for the new girl? And she's from the enemy's group?" You surmise.

Yuri hesitates. "I don't want to spoil anything for you if you're wanting to read them for yourself..."

"Such a tease," you sigh, pretending to be betrayed. "Oh, we're here- this is my house."

The two of you stop at the gate leading to the front yard of your home, and you're positive you aren't imagining the plaintive expression on Yuri's face. You didn't really want your time together to end either, but alas, you both have classes tomorrow.

"If- If you really would like, you can borrow the first book from me," offers Yuri. "And then... you'll see for yourself how it all goes."

You nod enthusiastically. "Yes, please! Thank you, that's really sweet of you! We can discuss it too after I'm finished reading it. I think I already know who my favorite character is going to be, though."

Yuri tilts her head curiously. "Who would that be?"

"Nope! It's a secret, for now." You pause, glancing up at the darkening sky. "Will you be okay walking home by yourself?"

Her violet eyes soften at your concern. "Yes, I don't live very far from here."

You find yourself unsure of how to say goodbye to Yuri, an uncertain quiet settling over the two of you, but she doesn't seem to find it awkward. "Okay, if you're sure. Do you mind giving me your phone number, though?"

She starts in surprise, a dusting of pink covering her cheeks. "U-Uhm- I- you-?"

"So you can text me when you get home," you quickly defend your reasoning, feeling a bit shy yourself at Yuri's reaction. She really was unique- most people tried to play it cool when asking for or giving numbers.

"R-Right," she stammers, reciting it off for you, and her phone buzzes at the quick text message you sent her so she would have your number.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, at the Literature Club," you finally say, already looking forward to it. "And don't forget to bring the book, please!"

Yuri steps back, her gaze on the ground but you still see her smile to herself. "Yes, I will. Bye, Y/N." She seems like she has something else she wants to say, but then she gives herself a shake and quickly turns away, her long hair twirling to follow her.

You watch her go until you can't see her anymore, partly due to wanting to make sure she was safe.

You couldn't help but admire her for her intelligence and beauty, even if she seemed to admire your social skills in return. Hopefully this was the start of a very deep relationship with Yuri.

[drabbles-mc]

Language

Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas x F!Reader

@redpoodlern requested more Dad!Creeper and honestly I was more than happy to deliver on that haha. And thank you to @garbinge for always helping me pull together all of my ideas!

Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, Creeper being a big ol’ softie with his kiddos

Word Count: 3k

A/N: This definitely takes place in the same universe as Like Father, Like Son because I’m a big fan of the family dynamic that I was sort of starting to build there. If no one has any objections that’s probably going to be my default HC for my future Dad!Creeper fics unless stated otherwise haha. I just love the idea of him with a pack of kids.

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The kids had one week off from school. One week. Seven days. Technically only five if you weren’t counting the weekend. You didn’t want to take the entire week off of work when you would be out on maternity leave in a couple more months, and as much as Creeper wanted you to be taking it easy, he said that if you really wanted save your time off for your leave, he would gladly keep the kids with him for the week.

“You and the guys can’t be doing,” you glanced around to make sure the kids weren’t in the room, “You and the guys can’t be doing serious club shit while they’re there, okay?” you knew that Creeper was always careful, but you also knew that some of the other men in the MC with him weren’t quite as cautious.

“Never, mama,” he leaned in and kissed your cheek, “Don’t worry. We’ll hold it down. It’s been a while since they got some time with their uncles, anyway.”

“Alright,” you nodded, taking a deep breath, “Go round up the gremlins, then,” you laughed, “They should each have their backpack with stuff in it.”

“Givin’ ‘em homework on their week off?” he chuckled.

You shook your head, “No, no. Just stuff to do if they get bored at the clubhouse. Coloring books, matchbox cars, whatever else they can fit in there.”

“Pfft,” he shook his head, “like we’ll ever let them get bored,” he let out a whistle, “Let’s go, homies! Time to roll out.”

Their footsteps thundered through the house as all three if them came booking it down the hall, each with their backpacks either on their shoulders or dangling from their hands. Both you and Creeper laughed at how excited they were to spend some time with their dad and their entire squad of uncles at the clubhouse.

“Which car you taking, baby?” you asked him.

“Just figured I’d take the van. It’s got all their stuff in it already.”

You smiled, nodding as you grabbed the keys off the counter and tossed them to him, “Alright, no doing donuts with it.”

He chuckled, “If they ask I won’t be able to tell them no,” he was about to say something else when his phone started going off in the pocket of his kutte. He reached and took it out, brows furrowing slightly as he answered, “Yea? Yea I’m about to head out. We’ll talk about it when I get there,” he shook his head slightly, “Alright yea,” with a huff he hung up the phone.

“All good?” you arched one eyebrow.

He nodded, “Yea. They act like I’m not gonna see them in twenty minutes. What the fuck is that important that it can’t wait?”

You shot him a glare, “Neron! Language, please.”

“Shit, sorry.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

He smiled sheepishly, stepping in close to give you a kiss, “I’m sorry, I love you, and I’ll call you later, mama.”

“Mhm,” you laughed as you playfully shoved him towards the door, “Tell the kids they gotta keep your boys in line.”

“They don’t even need me to tell ‘em.”

Very few things rivaled the excitement that the guys felt when they saw the minivan rolling into the scrapyard. Seconds after Creeper threw the van in park, all of the kids came sprinting out. His son leapt out of the passenger seat as his little sisters came tumbling out the back. It was quite the scene watching them walk up with their father, looking like quite the entourage all together.

“Wifey let you take the real whip today, huh?” Angel said with a laugh as he pulled Creeper into a hug.

He chuckled, “Anything for the wolfpack,” Creeper watched as his kids made their rounds to say hi and hug each of the men that were outside the clubhouse waiting for them to arrive.

Angel looked over at the minivan, “Still can’t believe she let you put those fuckin’ stickers on there, bro,” he laughed.

“Yo,” he smacked Angel in the chest, “No swearin’ in front of the kids,” he paused, “What do you got against the stickers? I think they’re cool.”

“Guess I just never thought that your soccer mom van needed fake bullet holes.”

“That’s what keeps it from being a soccer mom van,” he tapped the side of his head with a knowing look, like he had cracked some sort of code.

“Right,” Angel laughed and shook his head before turning his attention to the kids, “Brandon! Get over here! Let’s see if you’re taller than me yet, dude.”

Creeper turned and saw that the twins were already trying to take Hank down to the ground—a goal that they’d had ever since they were little toddlers. Every time they saw him, they got closer and closer to being successful but they weren’t quite there yet. He had one hanging off of each arm as he tried to walk across the yard without falling over onto them. Creeper laughed as he watched the shenanigans unfold, and they’d only been there for about two minutes.

“Alex! Ava!” he shook his head slightly with a smile, “Give Uncle Hank a break, alright? The man has work to do.”

“They’ll be taking him to the ground soon enough, man,” EZ laughed as he let Hank struggle with the two little girls.

“Make sure you’re filming it,” Creeper responded with a laugh as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“How’s Y/N?” EZ asked.

“Pregnant,” he looked over at EZ and laughed, “Nah she’s good. Working this week, so we got some extra help around here.”

“She’s still working?”

He nodded, “Oh yea. She’ll work till the baby pops outta her,” he shook his head, “I don’t know how she fu—” he caught himself, “I got no clue how she does it, man.”

“Pregnancy one of those things you get better at the more you do it?”

He laughed, “Why don’t you ask her next time you see her?”

“Hard pass,” he shook his head, laughing.

Creeper was glad that he had an entire team of guys to help him try to tire them all out, because it wasn’t an easy task in the slightest. At one point he was fairly certain that he lost them in the depths of the scrapyard and when he did finally find them, they were running around and playing hide and seek where all the scrapped cars were kept. The only thing that kept him from having a heart attack at the sight of it was knowing that none of the cars had any glass left in them that the kids could cut themselves on. But the three of them had easily turned the scrapyard into their kingdom.

“C’mon, lunch time,” he called out to them and they all hesitated, not quite ready to give up the game. Creeper sighed, “Chucky made lunch for you guys.”

That was all it took. Their eyes lit up and the girls almost pushed their brother to the ground in an attempt to beat him back to the clubhouse. Creeper shook his head as he followed them, egging them all on.

“C’mon, B-Dawg, use those legs!” he called after his son with a laugh.

“Knees to chest, Brandon!” Angel joined in as he watched the three of them race up the steps of the clubhouse.

Soon enough, the three of them were all sat at one of the tables inside the clubhouse. Chucky beamed at them, “The Vargas Trio,” he brought their plates over, “I hear you’re keeping us company for the week.”

“Dad said we get to come every day,” Ava said as she shoveled a spoonful of food into her mouth.

“Eat first, then talk, lil mama,” Creeper chastised her with a small smile as he shook his head.

Creeper sat at the table with them, casually drinking his beer as he watched the three of them tuck into the lunch that Chucky had made for them. He knew that Chucky loved when the kids were around—he became the ultimate chef and babysitter once those kids set foot on the property. There wasn’t a single thing that he wouldn’t do for those kids and Creeper could tell just by the way that Chucky seemed so at peace as he watched them sitting around the table together.

“What d’you guys say?” he asked them as he nodded towards Chucky.

“Thank you, Uncle Chucky,” they all said in unison.

The warmest of smiles spread across Chucky’s face as he nodded, “The pleasure is all mine.”

By late in the afternoon, the kids were finally starting to run out of steam. The girls were sprawled out on the floor of the clubhouse, art supplies strewn everywhere as they worked through entire sketchbooks’ worth of paper with Chucky. Brandon had been lurking at a safe distance as he watched some of the guys work in the scrapyard. The idea of breaking things apart was intriguing for many reasons to an eight-year-old boy, but he always listened if one of the men said to back up or not touch something. Every now and then, though, Creeper would let him take a crack at something with the hammer and the excitement on his son’s face was contagious.

The two of them walked back into the clubhouse to get a couple water bottles for themselves and the rest of the guys outside. Creeper was behind the bar, handing them over to his son while also trying to get a good look at what Alex and Ava were up to with Chucky. He smiled at the way the three of them seemed to exist so peacefully together. He hoped that the twins would always get along as well as they seemed to so far.

There was the quiet snapping sound of a pencil point breaking, followed by Alex tossing it to the side and huffing, “Fuck that.”

The entire clubhouse fell silent. Creeper’s eyes went wide as his jaw dropped slightly and Chucky looked over to him, trying to figure out what he was supposed to say or do. Creeper set one last water bottle down on the surface of the bar before addressing the issue.

“Alex? You good, babygirl?”

“It’s like the bazillionth time my pencil has broken.”

He wanted to be amused but he knew that you’d kill him for not talking about the whole language issue, “Alright. I hear you. But…but you can’t be talkin’ like that. Where’d you even hear that, anyway?”

“You,” all three of his kids replied in unison.

He exhaled sharply through his nose as he pressed his lips together into a thin line, trying to figure out what the right way to go about this was, “Look,” he waved for his son to follow him as he walked over to his daughters, “You can’t be talkin’ like that, okay? Those are grownup words. Whatever you do,” he rested his hand on her shoulder gently, “Don’t say that in front of Mommy,” he looked amongst the three of them, “And if it slips, you tell her that Uncle Angel taught you that, alright?” they all nodded and he let out a tiny sigh of relief, “Good. Okay.”

That was the last thing he said about it as he nudged Brandon’s shoulder and they went back to collect up the water bottles and bring them outside. The girls went back to their drawings and Chucky decided that there was nothing left to do but follow suit.

“Uncle Chucky?” Alex asked without looking up from her paper.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Why don’t you talk like they do?” she continued to fill in the cartoon coloring page, “Daddy says they’re grownup words but I never hear you saying them.”

“Speaking like a grownup doesn’t interest me in the slightest,” he smiled at her before returning to his own paper.

It was a week filled with antics. The clubhouse was covered in coloring pages of every cartoon and Disney character you could possibly think of. All of the guys had gotten their nails painted by the twins at least once. Brandon got his own Romero Brothers work-shirt and now he never wanted to take it off. Every single member of the MC was tired in a way they never remembered being tired before. Nap time was something that everyone partook in, even the adults, because they all needed the rest.

You took a half day on Friday so you could spend some time with all of them at the clubhouse. You liked seeing the kids running around having a good time with the guys, and truthfully you missed the nights you’d stay late with Creeper there. Late-night partying hadn’t been something the two of you had done in a long time, but none of that compared to the sense of joy you felt as you heard your daughters very intensely explaining the entire plot of both Frozen movies to EZ, who sat and nodded along, a very serious look on his face.

You smiled, making your rounds to say hello to the guys before you made your way over to Creeper who was sitting at the bar. He smiled, standing up to place a kiss to your lips and then to your belly before offering you his seat. You took it without hesitation, always happy to be off your feet for a few minutes.

“How’s the week been?” you asked as you glanced around the clubhouse.

He nodded, “Good. The guys will be sleeping for a week straight once the kids go back to school,” he laughed.

You smiled, nodding, “I bet.”

“It’s been nice having them here. Keeps things from getting to serious.”

“Yea,” you chuckled, “I’d imagine that it’s a bit harder to have a serious argument when all of your tables are covered in drawings of Olaf and Moana, and everyone’s nails are painted hot pink.”

“I kinda like it,” he held his hand out for you to inspect, “But I think purple is more my color.”

You laugh, nodding, “Oh, for sure, baby.”

The two of you were chatting when all of a sudden you heard a series of thuds, followed by Ava softly, but very clearly, saying, “Fuck,” as she rubbed her skinned knee.

You looked over at your husband, staring daggers, “Neron, I swear to god if—”

“It wasn’t me, mama, I swear,” he held his hands up in surrender.

With a sigh you rose up from the stool and made your way over to your daughter. You looked at her knee—it was scraped but it wasn’t bleeding. She also wasn’t crying which was a good sign. You asked if she was alright and when she said yes, you asked your follow-up question, “Where’d you hear that word, sweetie? Because those aren’t words that you should be using.”

Creeper held his breath as he waited for her to respond. Ava looked at you, and with no hesitation she responded, “Uncle Angel.”

You whipped your head to look at the biker in question. His eyes were as wide as you’d ever seen them. He tried to sputter out a denial, some kind of defense, but he couldn’t string the words together. He couldn’t believe that he’d just been thrown under the bus like that, especially by the girl who not even an hour beforehand said that he was her favorite uncle.

Calmly, you rose to your feet and smoothed out your dress. Creeper recognized the look in your eye and he knew that Angel was in for it. He felt bad, but not bad enough to step in and tell you the truth of the matter. It was a little deal in the grand scheme of things, really.

“Baby,” Creeper called after you, “Baby I can handle—”

“It’s fine, Neron,” your tone was dangerously even, “I just wanna talk to Uncle Angel for a minute.”

He knew that that meant you did not want to talk, “Mama, really—”

“Bring the kids outside, please. We gotta start heading home anyway.”

At that point he knew that he wasn’t going to convince you. He scooped Alex in one arm and Ava in the other, “Alright, let’s go, babygirls,” he nudged Brandon gently towards the door, “C’mon, lil homie, let’s pack the car up.”

Once the clubhouse door shut behind them, you turned your full attention to Angel. You picked up a stray coloring book and rolled it the same way you would a newspaper, and smacked him with it, “Angel Reyes!”

“Ah,” he held his arms to block your swings, “Y/N, hear me out!”

“You will not,” you smacked him again, “be teaching my six-year-olds how to cuss,” you hit him with the book once more for good measure, “Got it? Pregnant or not I will beat your ass.”

He held his hands up in surrender, “Okay, okay. Sorry, querida. Didn’t realize that they picked things up so quick.”

You pointed the rolled up coloring book at him accusingly, “Better start realizing it.”

“Yes ma’am,” he nodded.

You looked at him for a few seconds before giving a nod of approval and dropping the book back onto the table, “Good. Alright then,” you stood on your tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek, “Glad we’re on the same page. I love you.”

“Love you too,” he shook his head slightly as he followed you out of the clubhouse.

He said goodbye to the three kids as they piled into the minivan before pulling Creeper to the side, “Why’d Ava snitch on me like that, bro?”

Creeper chuckled nervously, running his hand over his head, “About that. I…I might’ve told them to blame you if they slipped up in front of their mom.”

“What the fuck, Creep?”

“What? You tellin’ me you wouldn’t do the same shit?”

He paused for a moment before laughing, “Yea, probably. But still,” he gave him a light shove, “Messed up turning my own nieces and nephew against me like that.”

“Technically just turning their mom against you a little bit,” he chuckled.

“I feel like that’s worse.”

“It’s definitely worse,” Creeper clapped him on the shoulder, “Well. Better get ready. Next vacation is gonna be for the whole summer.”

Angel laughed as he hugged Creeper, “Can’t wait.”