#many are just trying to make enough money to get by

[eclipsen-smiles]

I doubt any of you want to know but I love talking about them so-

Eclipse’s version (I’ll do Chai’s on my art account.)

Any variation of “I’m fine” or “it’s fine”

Basically never. They’re/we’re SHIT at verbal affection.

Also practically never, unless around either their world’s family or the bloodpack.

Childcare.

Yes. They don’t think of anything. They just can. Their human form is small and pathetic looking, they use it for pity. (I do. I’m tiny. I look young. It’s so so so easy to get idiots in trouble.)

Favourite show: ever after high. They will never mention this. Ever.

Fuckshit. Probably. Or just “GET YO ASS OVER HERE.” With their gf…… the SpongeBob theme. Eclipse is still childish at heart.

There’s actually a list.

Nothing= anon

Friend= distant.

Name = talked once or twice.

Nickname= close

Hun/bud/pal/pet names= family or extremely close. Or if they’re concerned.

It depends on the situation. It’s a weird mix. They can be very rough, but they’re usually gentle at the same time.

Random facts about mental states. Usually things that make people feel better. (Ie; fun fact, you’re face is distorted through your eyes, so how you see yourself isn’t what other people see.)

Trust me. You’ll tell. (They’re already behind them.)

People being dumb. Or people trying to insult them. (Please. Try to. It’s hilarious.)

Always. I don’t think they know how to smile naturally at this point.

With their finger. Or hand.

Home: kinda dull, calm. Work: silent, disassociated. Friends: HYPER. ABABABA. MISCHIEF. PRANKS. alone: no facial expression.

Idiots.

Memories. Others, idk.

Luna. Believe it or not, but their version of lunar is almost MORE psychopathic than them…

Panic. Not because of the person, but because they’re trapped. (One, that shouldn’t be possible. two, agoraphobia.)

1:Unknown. 2: the astals. Specifically the higher ups.

Uhh.. eye contact, I guess. They’re fine with it, but they know others aren’t.

Hilariously, normal work hours. And taking breaks.

OHHH BOY LET ME TELL YOU- (reminder: luna is a ghost.)

Bold of you to assume they only took one.

Uhh.. random facts from plants and animals to history to cooking. They’re 600+, they’ve had a LOT OF FREETIME.

Laughter.

A “dont do drugs” pencil. Responded with heavy laughter.

A break. I pled the fifth (death.)

“Your funeral”

Heavily different because of the topic of their work. Personal= eh whatever. Work= oh fuck oh shit

.. seeing luna happy actually causes the most guilt.

MONEY PRINTING. WHO NEEDS A JOB WHEN YOURE GOD?

Silence and a glare

Family/not super close friends/people who look up to them: very calm but visibly happy. Close friends/people close to them/people who don’t necessarily hold them highly: ABBABABABABABAB

…so…many

Tartarus. “Can’t kill him yet. He still has use.” But DAMN DO THEY WANT TO. (Tar is a corrupt ass in their au btw.)

Actually nothing serious. Like… nothing. Besides secrets others have told them.

Hahehakfjkwnf. One that I have. Juggling.

Excluded. They hate having people include them just for pity. Though that’s if they know. (Same philosophy as me. Just being invited is enough. Even if I can’t come or I don’t have to actively participate.)

Depends. If the person looks annoyed it’s “what an ass.” If they look neutral or uncomfortable, it’s quickly “are they okay?” or “am I too imposing?”

Unknown at the moment.

Guilt and tragedy coping. Self explanatory

They’re quick to assume people being uncomfortable or afraid is because of them. They will not mention this.

Any. Since built in language processors, but probably Spanish since is such a direct translation language.

Shoes/socks in the house. What’s the fucking point. Take em off.

Listener. Make them talk? They’re autistic. You. Will. know.

EVERYONE FROM THIER ORIGINAL WORLD. EVERYONE. they either are still on the “glad they’re dead” bandwagon or the “holy shit he(moon) killed a mostly innocent dude.” Wagon.

Girlfriend. Friends. Family. Literally anyone they know. Hey, who coulda guessed, the person grappling with their past is a people pleaser!!

Nope. Politely decline

Hhhhhh….. past morals I guess? The old belief of corporeal punishment? (they don’t now.)

“Hun” when they’re concerned.

Self explanatory (mod is a lawyer…. Eclipse is at heart..)

The blood pack or their gf. (Too much shit has happened for them to NOT believe the pack. They’re safety is top priority)

Freeze to fight in normal situations. Straight to fight in dangerous situations. Freeze to “JEESUS” in safe situations.”

Destroying worlds. It’s their job, sure, but they’d much rather stop what’s CAUSING it.

Gf usually. But she’s back on the “hub world” so probably no one.

Eating. Sleeping. Drinking…. Self care.

ALL OF THEM.

WEIRDLY SPECIFIC BUT HELPFUL CHARACTER BUILDING QUESTIONS

What’s the lie your character says most often?

How loosely or strictly do they use the word ‘friend’?

How often do they show their genuine emotions to others versus just the audience knowing?

What’s a hobby they used to have that they miss?

Can they cry on command? If so, what do they think about to make it happen?

What’s their favorite [insert anything] that they’ve never recommended to anyone before?

What would you (mun) yell in the middle of a crowd to find them? What would their best friend and/or romantic partner yell?

How loose is their use of the phrase ‘I love you’?

Do they give tough love or gentle love most often? Which do they prefer to receive?

What fact do they excitedly tell everyone about at every opportunity?

If someone was impersonating them, what would friends / family ask or do to tell the difference?

What’s something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific!

When do they fake a smile? How often?

How do they put out a candle?

What’s the most obvious difference between their behavior at home, at work, at school, with friends, and when they’re alone?

What kinds of people do they have arguments with in their head?

What do they notice first in the mirror versus what most people first notice looking at them?

Who do they love truly, 100% unconditionally (if anyone)?

What would they do if stuck in a room with the person they’ve been avoiding?

Who do they like as a person but hate their work? Vice versa, whose work do they like but don’t like the person?

What common etiquette do they disagree with? Do they still follow it?

What simple activity that most people do / can do scares your character?

What do they feel guilty for that the other person(s) doesn’t / don’t even remember?

Did they take a cookie from the cookie jar? What kind of cookie was it?

What subject / topic do they know a lot about that’s completely useless to the direct plot?

How would they respond to being fired by a good boss?

What’s the worst gift they ever received? How did they respond?

What do they tell people they want? What do they actually want?

How do they respond when someone doesn’t believe them?

When they make a mistake and feel bad, does the guilt differ when it’s personal versus when it’s professional?

When do they feel the most guilt? How do they respond to it?

If they committed one petty crime / misdemeanor, what would it be? Why?

How do they greet someone they dislike / hate?

How do they greet someone they like / love?

What is the smallest, morally questionable choice they’ve made?

Who do they keep in their life for professional gain? Is it for malicious intent?

What’s a secret they haven’t told serious romantic partners and don’t plan to tell?

What hobby are they good at in private, but bad at in front of others? Why?

Would they rather be invited to an event to feel included or be excluded from an event if they were not genuinely wanted there?

How do they respond to a loose handshake? What goes through their head?

What phrases, pronunciations, or mannerisms did they pick up from someone / somewhere else?

If invited to a TED Talk, what topic would they present on? What would the title of their presentation be?

What do they commonly misinterpret because of their own upbringing / environment / biases? How do they respond when realizing the misunderstanding?

What language would be easiest for them to learn? Why?

What’s something unimportant / frivolous that they hate passionately?

Are they a listener or a talker? If they’re a listener, what makes them talk? If they’re a talker, what makes them listen?

Who have they forgotten about that remembers them very well?

Who would they say ‘yes’ to if invited to do something they abhorred / strongly didn’t want to do?

Would they eat something they find gross to be polite?

What belief / moral / personality trait do they stand by that you (mun) personally don’t agree with?

What’s a phrase they say a lot?

Do they act on their immediate emotions, or do they wait for the facts before acting?

Who would / do they believe without question?

What’s their instinct in a fight / flight / freeze / fawn situation?

What’s something they’re expected to enjoy based on their hobbies / profession that they actually dislike / hate?

If they’re scared, who do they want comfort from? Does this answer change depending on the type of fear?

What’s a simple daily activity / motion that they mess up often?

How many hobbies have they attempted to have over their lifetime? Is there a common theme?

[daenysx]

Okay blurb req for old money!Aemond who is ALSO a model for really expensive brands and his gf is a photographer👀 inspired by the photoshoot and that one specific blue leopard print pic🙂‍↕️🤭

oh my god i hope i did well, thank you, rue !! <33333

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

cw; modern!aemond being a hopeless romantic, suggestive, kisses, no but he's really so in love it hurts, photographer!reader and model!aemond can be a new favorite wow

"are you sure this is professional?"

aemond has no shame, honestly. you don't think you can be expected to be 'professional' when your boyfriend looks like he'll ruin your entire existence by looking like the most charming being in the entire universe.

his blue eyes sparkle in the latest photos you take, a stark contrast with his platinum blonde hair. flowy strands make you want to pull aemond to yourself enough to give him a good kiss on his neck as your fingers travel in his hair. maybe you can do that when you get to be alone with him. oh, you'll definitely do that when you're alone.

"i believe i'm extremely professional." you murmur, holding his hand to make him pose the way you want. "if you stop being so distracting, it'll be even better."

he smirks. a small quirk of lovely lips, he's handsome and he knows it. he leans into your space and your hold on your camera tightens. you will not kiss him. you can't, there are other people here, and this is business. you take a step back.

"i'm only doing what you tell me to do." he says like he's the most innocent man. "you can't say i'm not being good."

you give him a small smile. he's in the mood for playing.

"i didn't say that." you say, quietly. "come on, a few more for me and we'll be done."

aemond fixes his posture, your one hand still holding his. "of course." he says, coolly. "you know i can actually be good for you. as many as you want, you'll have it."

you lick your lips to control your face expressions. not the time, not the place. just like you say to him, only a few more and you'll be done.

the clothes he's wearing make aemond look taller as if it's actually possible. you admire his poses, his confidence and his awareness of how good he looks. he turns his head for another picture, his eyes following your every move. it's like a wordless conversation between you two.

"can i get one with a smile?" you ask him, your hand directing his last pose. "not too wide, just- a subtle one, please."

"i'm afraid that's not possible if i'm going to give you a smile." he flirts. "maybe you should let someone else take the photo if you need a subtle one."

you hear two girls giggling at the corner. he really thinks he's so fun, doesn't he? it's his world here, he knows how to charm his way and he certainly knows how to be a flirt. you're thankful he's already yours, it would be impossible to handle him otherwise.

after another fifteen minutes, you're all done. you go next to aemond, leaving your camera. people around you move quickly to clean up the place, and fix all the mess that has been made. aemond takes your hand to brush a kiss on your knuckles. his eyes are warm this time, so clear under this lights.

"what do you think?" he asks. "good?"

you nod softly. "probably the best in a long time."

"kind of hard not to." he wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer. "i had the best photographer."

you give him a kiss on his cheek but that's all. he's been teasing you all day long. "do you flirt with all your photographers like this, mr. targaryen?"

"absolutely not." he answers, cheekily. "my flirting skills are reserved for only one person."

"i think you owe me a drink." you tell him. "even working is easier than trying to deal with your incessant teasing."

"we'll have dinner first." he says, kissing the side of your head. he doesn't say, but he's tired. "think of what you want to eat when i'm changing, okay? i have a few options if you can't decide."

[heyheydidjaknow]

After a very long week of diving headfirst into this fandom I think it’s only right that the champagne bottle we smash into this here ship is a four thousand word Chuuya x reader. Here’s to what I’m sure will be another few years of this, everyone; hope everyone is down.

Candies

He was glaring at you.

You had no idea when he got on the train. You did not care enough to wonder. What you knew was that he— the man in the hat on the opposite side of the train car— had been looking at you for the past three stops, and while you were fairly certain that you had no idea who he was, you were almost as certain that whoever he thought you were had another thing coming from how intensely he was watching you. Sure, he had the decency to look embarrassed by his staring, but that in no way stopped him from looking at you like you had something to apologize for. It was disconcerting. It was borderline creepy. But neither of you moved, because it was a train, and the two of you would not see each other again anyway.

The train slowed to a stop. Most people filed off. You did not. Neither did the man. You checked your watch, head falling back as you considered the pros and cons of waiting for the next train. You would have to eat dinner late, but you would not have to wonder why exactly he seemed to hate you this much for nothing.

You heard the rustling of clothing next to you. “Excuse me.”

You opened your eyes to the man. You took him in, identified any features that might be helpful for a police report: cold eyes, reddish hair, too many layers. Pretty, but not reassuring. You pulled your headphones off, fearing the worst. “May I help you?”

A pause.

You smiled tentatively. “Is something wrong?”

“I’ll give you five hundred thousand yen if you’ll go out with me.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

Reality seemed to catch up with him. “Shit. Uh.” He pulled his hat off, fiddling with the brim as he lowered his eyes. “Is that too little? I can go higher.”

“Do you think I’m a hooker?”

“Huh?”

You leaned away from him a bit. “What kind of thing is that to ask someone? ‘What’s your price?’ Seriously?”

The realization seemed to strike him like a baseball bat to the head. He immediately backpedaled. “That’s not— shit, I mean, that’s not what I meant to—“ he stammered. “I— no, I didn’t mean anything like that!”

“Yeah?” You raised your eyebrows. “That work for most people, asking them what they charge for a night? For fuck’s sake, man.”

“Hey!” He sat up, defensive. “I never said I wanted to take you home!”

You crossed your arms. “Then what exactly are you trying to do?”

“Ask you on a date!”

“You sure have a funny way of doing it.”

He huffed, face red. “Look,” he grumbled, “I don’t ask many people on dates; I’m trying my best here.”

“You could just ask me,” you pointed out. “You could ask me in a way that doesn’t involve offering me money.”

He rolled his eyes, seemingly— and audaciously— annoyed. “I can’t just walk up to a stranger and ask them on a date. Why would you go? You don’t know me; what if I’m a creep? How do you know if I’m worth the time?”

An incredulous smile crept onto your lips. “And you thought that offering me money would make you seem less creepy?”

“At least then you have a reason to show up! At least then I have a financial interest in showing you a good time!” He buried his face in his hands. “It took me a while to get this far and my stop is next and I do not have the time nor ability to actually woo you.”

The absurdity of this whole situation— the sight of an extravagantly dressed pretty boy bemoaning his romantic failings— was starting to get to you. “This all seems like a lot for someone you just met.”

He sat up quickly, steam practically pouring from his ears. “Well,” he explained seemingly in an attempt to regain some composure, “I may not know you yet, but I know that I’ve never seen anyone who looks as good as you do, and we’re on a train; I may never get the chance to see you again if I don’t do something right this second.”

You grinned. “Really?”

“Really. I am fucking this up.”

“A bit,” you agreed. “But you’re bringing it back around, calling me hot.”

He brightened. “I am?”

You shrugged. “More or less, yeah.”

His hands were shaking. You wondered how long they had been doing that. “Well,” he mumbled, “does that mean your answer isn’t a hard no?”

You leaned back in your seat. “I can be convinced,” you said. “Try again.”

He cleared his throat. “Hello.” He made eye contact with you again, the sharpness you had assumed was being weaponized against you seemingly inherent in his gaze. You tried, for a moment, to make out what color his eyes were, but the answer seemed to elude you. “My name is Nakahara Chuuya.”

“Hello, Nakahara Chuuya.” You crossed your legs. “See, this is better. Keep going.”

He gave you a confused look. You liked him, you decided. “Well,” he continued, disgruntled, “I couldn’t help but notice you. You’re easy to see.”

“Interesting word choice, but alright.”

He shot you a look. “You’re nice to look at. Is that better?”

Your smile softened. “Much. Keep going.”

He looked down at his hat. “I was wondering,” he continued, “if you were already spoken for.”

You snorted. “Spoken for?”

“Single,” he amended, irritated. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

You stretched out your legs in front of you, thoroughly enjoying this. “I am both single and without boyfriend,” you assured him.

He nodded sternly. “Then, can I take you out? On a date?”

You considered it for a moment. “Yeah, sure.”

He blinked. “Really?”

“Really.” You leaned back in your seat. “You’re cute, and I don’t think you’ll murder me, and those are my two big requirements, so.”

He chuckled. “High bars. No wonder you’re single.”

“What can I say? I’m hard to please.” You dug around in your coat for a pen, holding your palm up towards you. “What’s your number?”

The redhead paused. “I don’t have a number right now,” he said. “I’m having trouble with my provider. I can give you a time and place, though.” He held out a gloved hand. “May I?”

You gave him the pen and your bare hand. Quickly, he scribbled down an address (someplace in Yokohama), a date (the next Saturday) and a time (six o’clock). As he finished, the train came to a halt at the platform, doors opening with a quiet hiss.

Nakahara Chuuya stood up, fixing his pork pie hat securely atop his head before straightening out his clothes and giving you a stiff nod. “I will see you then,” he promised. “If you’re late by more than fifteen minutes, I’ll assume you stood me up.”

You gave the strange man a smile. “I’ll come early, then.”

He averted his eyes. “Thank you.” And with that, he left you on the train with a date, a time, and a great deal of confusion.

Foolishly, you showed up. You lived neither in nor near Yokohama. Getting to the address the man had given you— which he wrote with poor penmanship— took you some time too. You went through the trouble of dressing as well as he had been the day you met him— which was more formal than you would typically be for a first date with a stranger you met on a train— and went so far as to plan to be there fifteen minutes early. You had no idea why you were so interested in the man. You had no inclination as to what possessed you to show up to meet a stranger in the first place; after all, his assumption that you might think of him as some sort of predator would have been a reasonable one to make. But you had an inarticulable feeling that told you that this meeting would be worth your time.

Or you just thought he was pretty. You weren’t sure which it was.

The address he had given you brought you to a small restaurant close to the Tsurumi river which, if its sign was to be believed, primarily dealt in soba. Despite your planning, you arrived a mere five minutes early instead of fifteen which, in your defense, was still early, but apparently not so early that your date did not beat you there. As you approached him, a look of bewilderment briefly crossed his face.

“Damn,” you joked. “I thought I’d get here first.”

He looked over your shoulder. “You came,” he said, sounding surprised.

“I did,” you confirmed.

“Alone.”

“I was unaware I was meant to bring a plus one on a date.”

“No, I just mean—“ He stopped himself. “Whatever. I’m glad you came.”

You held your hands behind your back. “So am I, though I’m feeling a bit self conscious now.” You looked down at your clothes, then back to his. He had dressed much more casually than you in a loose, short sleeve button up, loose pants and a large dark jacket. He had kept the hat and the choker— which you had not until that moment realized you remembered— but you looked too formal next to him. “I thought you would dress the way you did on the train.”

He gave you a once over. “You look fine,” he said. “You look great, actually. Don’t worry about it.”

A smile spread across your face. “You've gotten more confident since then, too. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t look totally plain next to you is all; you look so stylish.”

He paused, eyes cast down towards his feet. “Thank you. I drank before I came.” He opened the door to the restaurant for you.

You walked past him. “Thank you. Did you drive?”

“Nah.” He shut the door behind the two of you. “This place is out of the way enough to make it not worth the trouble to park. I walked.” He nodded to the hostess, who sat the two of you in a corner away from the door.

The restaurant was a hole-in-the-wall: exposed crossbeams, warmly lit, nearly empty despite it being a Saturday. You took your seat across from him as the woman set a cup of water in front of each of you, leaving you to your conversation. She made no eye contact with either of you before she left. You picked up your cup, taking a sip as he draped his coat over the back of the seat and set his hat beneath his chair. The gloves, however, stayed on. “How long was the walk?” you asked.

“Not far. A couple minutes.” His elbows came to rest on the table. “I can walk you back to your car if you drove, or to the train station if you need. Just let me know.”

“Thank you.” You took a menu from the center of the table, scanning it absently. “To be honest, I’m glad you asked me to do something earlier in the evening; I’m not super interested in being on my own in the dark.”

He hummed in agreement. “Nobody does. I have work to take care of later, but I can’t imagine wanting to stay out past twelve alone otherwise.”

You groaned sympathetically. “Terrible. What do you do?”

He paused. “I… it’s complicated.” He laced his fingers together. “I operate a shipping company under a parent organization operating out of Yokohama. I technically and practically own the shipping company, but I can’t legally operate it unless it’s under the parent organization, so I have all the stress of a business owner with none of the freedom.”

Your lips twitched nervously. “Are you on a list or something? Why can’t you operate a business?”

“What do you– oh.” The brief look of confusion left his face. “I’m a skill user.”

“A what?”

“You know,” he repeated, “a skill user?”

You stared at him blankly.

“I have a gift?”

“Isn’t that a dog whistle?”

“What? No!” He crossed his arms. “I have supernatural abilities.”

You considered it. “You know,” you mused, “I’ve never been on a date with a guy who came out as being possessed to me.”

He opened his mouth to protest, blinked. “Well,” he conceded, “I guess that’s what I’m saying, but that would be a bad assumption most of the time; most gifted users aren’t possessed.”

“Wait, seriously?” Skepticism and deep curiosity battled for supremacy in your mind. “By what?”

He shrugged. “A god, I guess?”

“You guess?”

“It’s complicated.” To your– and his– surprise, he laughed. “It’s funny; I can’t think of the last time I had to actually explain what my deal was.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Do most people just know?”

“More or less.” He shrugged again, looking towards the door. “It’s practical. I use it a lot.”

“I see.” You sat up, taking your cup and turning it over in your hands. “What does it do?”

He did not say anything for a second, brow furrowing. He looked back in your direction, holding out his hand. “Give me your cup.”

You did.

He set the cup down on the table. Slowly, as though it had been set in a pool of water, the cup began to float upwards. “My ability,” he explained simply, clearly taking pride in the way your eyes lit up in excitement and awe, “allows me to manipulate gravity for any object I touch.”

You reached out towards the cup, moving your hand above and below it. If there was a trick to what he was doing, you had no idea what it was. “That is so freakin’ cool,” you gushed softly. “How can you keep it from flying away?”

He was practically glowing. “Basically, I’m counteracting the force of Earth’s gravity for just this object by creating a second center of gravity that only affects the cup.” He pointed to a spot near the center of cup. “It’s around here. So long as the force of the gravitational field I'm creating is greater than Earth’s, the cup will naturally try and be as close to the center as possible. If the gravitational pull were too strong, the cup would go through that point–” he pointed towards the ceiling, “-- and through the roof before coming back down. But if the force is weak, it’ll stay right around the center.”

You took the cup, moving it towards you before letting go. As if attached to a string, the cup moved back to its place, the water inside is sloshing.

The pure, childlike joy on your face was enough for the man across from you to forget, for a moment, the price of his gift.

The date continued on. The two of you went back and forth on a variety of simple, surface level topics. You learned that Chuuya was a dog person and that he enjoyed fashion. He said he had been in Yokohama practically all his life. He told you about his coworkers– no details, but enough to get a sense for the type of Motley Crew they were– and how that day was an anniversary for something, though he never got around to telling you what it was an anniversary of. At one point, before your food had gotten to the table, you asked about his gloves, which he had apparently not realized he was still wearing. He explained that he wore them all the time– he said it made work easier– but that he did have the good sense to take them off.

“I’m not a monster,” he had insisted. “I don’t want to get food on them.”

The conversation was surprisingly easy. He was nervous at first and clearly inexperienced– an observation that you chose to keep to yourself– but funny and over dramatic in a way that made the discussions flow jovially between the two of you. He was a sailor-mouthed, irreverent, sensitive man, you found, and he seemed to take great pleasure in your company and a surprising interest in the more tedious parts of your life: your occupation, your friends, your earlier life, all of which he found strangely fascinating. Though you knew little of substance about him by the end of the meal you shared, you could not shake the feeling that the sort of things you learned– the simple, stupid things most people gave out as icebreakers– held more weight than you could understand.

But you were grateful, nonetheless. You enjoyed talking to him.

Despite your protests, he paid for the both of you, and the two of you left the restaurant cracking up over some embarrassing story about school.

“Three days straight?”

You waved him off, laughter still bubbling from your throat. “I know; it was stupid!” you cried. “I swear I was possessed; by the end of it I thought there was a chance– assuming I didn’t have heart attack first– that I was immortal.” You sighed, trying to regain composure; you were gigglier than normal. “But I passed the class, so fuck that guy.”

He set his hat back on his head, pushing it down to rest snugly. “Fuck that guy,” he agreed, having about as much success as you did in wiping the stupid smile off his face. “God– being a teenager fucking sucked.”

“Dude, amen to that.” You looked in his direction, tears from the cold and from excessive laughter in your eyes. “Chuuya,” you sighed happily, “I am having an excellent time.”

“What a coincidence,” he grinned. “So am I.”

You looked up at the sky, which was significantly darker than you thought it would be; you supposed that you had spent more time in the restaurant than you thought. “I shouldn’t walk back to the station any later on my own, though.” You slipped your hands into your own pockets. “So–”

“Can you stand to be out later if I can get you back to the train?” He cleared his throat, apparently hearing the eagerness in his voice as clearly as you did. It was the same eagerness he had when he first asked you here. “What time is it?”

You took your phone from your coat, flipping it open. “Nine-ish.”

“Nine?” He pursed his lips. “Shit, I— no, I can make that work.” He leaned his weight onto one side. “I have to get somewhere at eleven, but it’s not a formal thing.” He looked away, swallowing. “If you want to, I mean.”

You held out your hand to him. “Nothing in this moment would make me happier than spending more of my time with you, Chuuya.” You wiggled your fingers in invitation. “Where should we go?”

He was staring at you, at your body bathed in the warm light streaming from the restaurant’s windows, at your face which betrayed nothing but pure intentions, to your hand which you offered him freely. He wondered if you knew how easy it would be to kill you if he touched you. He wondered if that was something someone like you considered at all.

“Chuuya?”

He blinked, clearing his throat. It did not matter. He took your hand. “Sorry.” He was breathless. “Lost in thought.”

You let him pull you closer, nudging him playfully with your side. “You’ll end up swallowing a fly if you keep your mouth open like that,” you teased. “Do you really like looking at me that much?”

He straightened up, heat flushing his cheeks. “So what if I do?”

“Well, I don’t imagine it’d taste very good.”

He snorted. “Shut up.” He nudged you back, looking forward. “We can sit by the river for a while if you’d like; the streets will be sketchy here pretty soon but nobody goes by the part of the river we’re by.”

“Really? How come?”

He shrugged. “It’s impractical. Nobody important goes to the river, anyway.”

“Nobody important?”

“Huh? Oh, right; you’re not from around here.” He looked back in the direction of the river, starting to lead the two of you there. “The Port Mafia doesn’t dump bodies into the rivers; they throw them out by the dock.”

“The mafia?” You started. “What, like La Cosa Nostra?”

“What you do and don’t know is really confusing.” He rolled his eyes. “The Port Mafia is a smuggling ring operating primarily out of the city; it has nothing to do with the Italian mob.”

“Oh.” You squeezed his hand, following close behind. “That’s terrifying.”

“It is?”

“To know that people are just chucking bodies frequently enough that you know about it? And that there’s more than one group doing it?” You tittered nervously. “I mean, I’d heard a little about Yokohama, but I didn’t know it was that bad.”

He squeezed your hand back, looking over his shoulder in your direction. A wry smile crossed his face. “Huh. That’s funny.”

You walked a bit faster to stay beside him. “What’s funny?”

“That you think it’s weird. I guess it never occurred to me that it was strange.” He tugged you to his side. “You don’t need to be scared, though; I’ll protect you.”

“Oh, will you?”

He shot you a look. “What,” he challenged, “you don’t think I can?”

“I never said that,” you protested. “It was just a very old-fashioned thing to say.” You lowered your voice to a growl. “‘Don’t worry, dollface; I’ll protect you.’ It sounds like something you’d hear in a noir.”

He opened his mouth to argue, considered it. “I guess if you found that weird, that would be an odd thing to say, wouldn’t it?”

“A little, yeah.”

“Because what would you need protecting from?”

“Exactly.”

A funny look came onto his face. “That’s funny,” he repeated. “That’s…” He trailed off, slowing to a stop on the road.

You looked back at him. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled. “Just that…” Startling eyes– they seemed to shine under the streetlamps– met yours. “You said you stayed up for three days straight,” he said. “Do you sleep well now?”

You looked away. “I don’t know if I sleep well, exactly; I don’t sleep as much as I should, at least.”

“But it feels normal, doesn’t it? To not sleep much?”

“I suppose.” You turned to face him properly.

His gaze shifted from you to the sky. “You know, I just remembered something.” He started to walk again, pulling you behind. “When I was little, none of us– none of the people I hung out with– had much pocket money, so we made a game out of stealing from the convenience stores in town. The competition was to see who could pay for as little as possible without getting banned from the store. I was never really good at it because I was an easy to read kid, but I remember always going for those… what do you call them? Bonbons?” He made a circle with his thumb and forefinger. “The little wrapped chocolates. I’d always shove one into my pocket because they were always left out and who’s going to give a kid shit for taking a piece of candy?”

You followed beside him quietly, watching him.

He continued. “The other day,” he said, “I went into a convenience store for the ATM, and I must have withdrawn twenty thousand yen or something like that– a good amount. I bought a pack of gum before I left because I didn’t want to be the asshole that just uses an ATM and leaves, and I realized– I think I’d walked a block away when I did– that I had one of those candies in my pocket.” He led you off the path. “I guess I must’ve picked it up while I was paying for the gum. They weren’t even the good chocolates; they were the hundred yen ones, and I knew why I’d grabbed that piece– because nobody’s going to lose their mind over a hundred whatever yen– but I couldn’t for the life of me remember why I’d grabbed it.”

The two of you came to a stop by the riverbed. It was quiet for a Saturday. The water shone under the moonlight, and the man beside you– whose gaze was now transfixed by the reflection– stood next to you, seemingly lost in thought.

You never let go of his hand. “Being a kid kinda sucks,” you said, running your thumb over his clothed knuckles. “You usually don’t have many responsibilities, but you don’t know enough to know what you should and shouldn’t get involved with.”

He looked to you.

“And you get so jealous of the Huck Finn kids– you know the type: no responsibilities, nobody to tell them no– until you get older and realize– too late– that the habits you picked up when you were left to your own devices probably weren’t the healthiest, but by the time you put that together they’re so deeply encoded in your being that they’re a part of who you are and part of how you got this far, so even if they’re unhealthy it’s not like you can give them up now.” You shivered. “It’s frustrating, looking back and thinking about what you could’ve been.”

The two of you stood there, staring at the water. Chuuya wrapped an arm around your shoulders, trying, in vain, to keep you from the cold.

Finally, he spoke. “I don’t think I’ve ever had this kind of conversation with anyone before.”

You closed your eyes, leaning against him. “It’s funny,” you said. “I don’t think I have either.”

His voice was soft. “I want to see you again.”

“So do I.”

“Then we should.”

“We should.”

You did.

[babyouran]

A Day in the Life of the Fujioka Family! - what was planned to be a quick, small trip to visit y/n and haruhi soon becomes something bigger as all the members get a peek into the commoner lifestyle

Pairing - fem!reader x host club

Apart of - ouran add in

Currently, seven of the eight Host Club members were standing outside of a run-down, tiny, one-roomed house where the Fujioka residents lived. Vines were overcrowding the fence that stood in front of the cracked home, them growing in unwanted places. The shattered windows allowed a nasty breeze to enter the house, and the grass surrounding it had weeds overgrowing up to the height of Honey’s knees. As if it could not look more disappointing, the once nice weather that seemed to greet them soon turned into darkened clouds that looked as if it were specifically just floating over the Fujioka home. 

Seeing such a dear friend in a depressing space was appalling to the group. Tamaki stood still, his eyes trained directly at the chunk of wood missing at the top of the doorframe, his hands tightly holding onto a box filled with treats. 

"This can't be right," Tamaki muttered.

"Oh Haruhi," Y/N sighed sadly, looking at the rundown place of living. When Haruhi opened the door, her expression differed much from the one they normally saw on her. She had dirt smudged on her cheeks, a sickly pale complexion, and a dizzying stance shown through her discombobulated feet trying to keep her balanced and upright. 

"Hey everyone. Why don't you come in?" Haruhi offered, and she gestured to the inside of the miniature home, where a singular chandelier hung down from the ceiling, emitting a small light to make up the whole home's space. "I know it's not much, but please make yourselves at home. I'll make us some tea." She moved across the dirtied floor, trash filtered about the room, and swung open the rusty cabinetry doors. "Um, I'm sorry, we don't have enough cups, but we do have some bowls.” 

She frantically pulled out most of the dishware available, pouring an oddly dark brownish-green tea into the chipped containers. The group couldn’t help but eye one another in an attempt to stifle their comments of concern and disgust.

"Hey, boss. What's with this place? She lives here?" Hikaru uttered.

"Maybe it's some kind of set, you know, like in the movies?" Kaoru hoped, peering behind a tattered curtain in hopes of finding a mysterious camera.

"I-I hope so!" Tamaki exclaimed, his eyes staring now into the floor, unblinking. 

"Haruhi, you don't have any books," Y/N realized, a gasp leaving her lips as she tried to search in a drawer but to no avail. The book-obsessed young maiden was wrecked at the discovery, similar to how many of the other members were. 

"Psst, Y/n," Tamaki snapped out of his trance, nudging her shoulder. "Are you okay, sweetie?"

"I'll be okay, Tamaki-senpai." Y/N shook her head up and down, wiping away an imaginary tear and taking a slow seat down onto the flattened cushion that lay near the table.

"Calm down, you guys. I bet this is the storeroom. I'm positive Infinite Cosmos is just on the other side of that closet," Tamaki told the twins, turning around on the stained cushion and narrowing his attention to them. 

"Then should we try to open it?" Kaoru tiptoed over to where the door was. 

"Now's not the time!"  

"Right.”

"Since you guys decided to come by at lunchtime, my dad said it would be rude if I didn't offer you something to eat." Haruhi walked near the group, placing the bowls and cups filled with tea in front of them. "We've been fasting for three days to save up money to buy something suited to your taste. But it's all worth it as long as you guys like it.” She put on a fake smile. 

She walked back, hunched towards the kitchen counter where the grocery bag resided, and with gawky fingers, she pulled out an eight-piece sushi sampler, holding it up in the air. 

"It was marked down at the supermarket; how about that?" Haruhi lightly cheered, now placing the platter on the table. The fish looked several days past expiration, the rice was falling from its shape with an odd color, and a disturbing odor was ruminating from the supermarket sushi. 

"Sorry, we came to visit Haru-chan! Don't make us eat it!" Honey yelled, standing up as tall as he could with his hands up in the air as if surrounded by law enforcement. 

"Be strong men; Y/n will be upset if we hurt her friend, and Haruhi has truly suffered for our benefit," Tamaki encouraged the twins, hands shakily reaching across the table to pick up a set of cheap chipped chopsticks. "It's the least we could do.” 

"But sir, I'm not even sure this is fish!" Kaoru argued. 

"Wow! I can't believe it! Isn't this a piece of fancy tuna, and I'm getting to eat it with Y/N?" Haruhi admired the tuna in her hand.

"Oh no," Y/n muttered, taking one of the sushis in between her chopsticks. "This—I think I'm going to be sick," she gagged. 

"No, Y/n, don't eat that; it isn’t fancy tuna!" Tamaki yelled, sitting up quickly in his bed. He sat up with sweat dripping down his forehead, his breathing was labored, and his eyes rapidly scanned around the room. "Just a dream," he sighed, rushing out of the lavish bed, speedily getting ready, and making his way down the grand stairs of his estate. 

"Morning, Master Tamaki," An older woman greets him. "Anything we can do for you?"

"I need to get going; please bring the car around the front at once," he told her, school bag in hand.

"Yes, of course, sir." The driver answered with a curt nod as he went to turn and move out the door.

"I beg your pardon, Master Tamaki, but what would you like for breakfast this morning?" The woman asked.

"I don't want any! I already told you I have to get going!" Tamaki whined, looking as if he were about to stomp his foot in defiance.

"Hold it right there, Master Tamaki! I can't let you leave the house like that. You're still wearing your pajama bottoms and your house slippers," Tamaki rushed upstairs at her comment, coming back down in the proper clothing.

"Thank you, Shima," he thanked, brushing away a strand of hair that got ruffled in the movement and his face a little red from embarrassment. "I'll be going now."

"I hate to be a bother, Master Tamaki, but today is Sunday," she informed. “You don't have to go to school today, sir."

"Oh,” He looked back at her defeat. “Well, why didn't you make me aware of the fact earlier?"

"As your maid, it's my duty to help you. However, I want you to become a fine gentleman. So, you must be able to recognize your own mistakes." She grabbed his back, starting to drag him off. "Since you suddenly have some free time on your hands, why don't we work on your manners?"

"But I have to make a call! Someone bring me a phone!" Tamaki frantically yelled. A maid rushed over with a rotary, which Tamaki quickly took from her grip, spinning around the digits. "Hey Kyoya, there's something I need to talk to you about.”

The weekend granted free time for the girls of the host club to congregate in the ways they wished. With the bright sun shining and heating their exposed skin, Haruhi and Y/n walked back from their venture at the supermarket with warmth in their hearts. It was a most enjoyable time for the wealthier girl, as she had never participated in it. They were chatting amongst themselves until Haruhi’s steps halted when something out of the ordinary came into view—a group of people swarming around some fancy cars. She took a few steps forward to catch a better glimpse, curiosity getting the best of her, and droned out the ramblings of Y/N. 

"Check out that car," a man mentioned, pointing out the obvious while a driver was opening the door to the back seat. To much surprise, some of the fellow host club members emerged. 

"Wow, so this is where Haruhi lives?" Kaoru spoke.

"It's pretty big, huh?" Hikaru added, as both of the twins were thoroughly impressed. 

"Look at all the rooms!" Honey jumped up and down, tugging on Mori’s hand. 

"This building is what you might call an aggregate commoner dwelling," Kyoya told them.

"So that means this isn't just hers?" Hikaru put together residing in a more comfortable and toned-down choice of clothing. Most of the boys wore tops without long sleeves, like Mori and Kyoya’s vest or Honey’s sailor shirt. Tamaki had a light yellow sweater on, and the twins were decked out in red and white tops. Overall, the uniforms were gone, and the street clothes fashion commenced. 

"Yes, her home is only one of these units," he confirmed.

"Kyoya! Why did you bring these idiots with?" Tamaki whined, now actually stomping his feet.

"Kyoya, it was just supposed to be you and me!”

"Well, you see, I knew you didn't dare to come here alone to see Y/n outside of a school setting, so I thought it'd be best if everyone came along," he explained. "Okay, let's all go home; I underestimated our great leader.”

"I'm sorry, don't leave," Tamaki apologized, putting his hands down in defeat.

There was still a bumbling crowd around the vehicles whispering different rumors about why they appeared and just who the host club were. Y/N, who was naturally curious, stopped her ramblings and began to venture to the crowd, taking in their reactions.

"Now don't you forget men!" Tamaki pulled the rest of the group over into a huddle. "This is a casual—we just happened to be in the neighborhood—type of visit. Y/n will be outraged if we disrespect Haruhi, and after all, Haruhi is a member of our club. We will do our best to be respectful and not judge them. Don't say shabby, cramped, and run down when referring to her home," Tamaki warned the group.

Though the girl in question had heard their whole conversation and was heating up with rage, she turned towards the boys and said, "It's too late; just leave!" At the sudden outburst, Y/n rushed over to her friend's side to see the rest of the host club in the distance.  

“Wow, everyone is here!" Y/n beamed, thrilled nature all over her features as she admired the appearances of all of her friends in the same place. 

Similar to fruitflies attracted to something sweet, the boys ventured over near the girls, Honey pushing himself closer to Y/n’s side as he cocked his head up. “You look pretty, N/n-chan!” Even the younger-natured boy could recognize a new spark in Y/n’s character with a new venue and be surrounded by those she cared for.

"Thank you, Honey-senpai," Y/n smiled down at the boy.

Haruhi tugged on Y/n’s wrist, pulling her closer to her. "Now the rest of you, get the hell out of here!"

"Haruhi's so mad, she cursed at us!" Tamaki exclaimed, jumping in fear.

"Was this not a coincidence?” Y/n cocked her head to the side, furrowed eyebrows. 

“No, they planned this without my permission,” Haruhi glanced over to the girl, cheeks a flamed red. Y/n immediately turned to the man of the hour—Tamaki—and watched as he shrieked, cowering behind the twin's frames in fear of upsetting Y/n. 

"Excuse me, Haruhi, but is everything alright?" An older woman went up to her, tapping her shoulder lightly.

"Hi, Miss Land-Lady.”

"These young men are driving such fancy, foreign cars; they're not Yakuza, are they?"

"No, they are not," Haruhi reassured her, shaking her head and stifling a little laugh at the insinuation.

"Do you want me to call the police for you?" She asked, whispering in Haruhi's ear. Tamaki bounced away from his place of hiding and gently placed the woman's palm into his grip.

"Pleased to meet you, madam. My name is Suou; I'm one of Haruhi's friends," he explained, almost sparkling in the sunlight.

"Really? My goodness, well, aren't you just adorable?" The landlady complimented, a total switch in her former demeanor as she was greeted with his presence up close.

"We're just stopping; we didn't mean to cause a scene. I'm sorry."

"Oh, it's no problem," she giggled, moving towards Haruhi. "I'll stop by later with snacks for you and your friends.”

With a loud sigh, Haruhi began the way up the steps leading to her home, an eager group trailing behind. Yet she halted at the door. "Okay, here's the deal; I'm only giving you guys a quick peak," Haruhi explained. “Today was meant to be time for just Y/n and "Today was meant to be time for just Y/N and me.”

"But look, I brought you a gift, Haru-chan!" Honey told her, holding up a box full of delicious sweets, all decorated differently and delicately.

“Those look very good,” Y/n turned towards Haruhi, who was entranced by the expensive goodies. “Maybe it would be fun for us all to be together." She quietly commented, glancing hopefully at her friend. 

"Fine, I guess I'll make some tea," Haruhi caved in, unlocking the door and gesturing the group inside her home.

"What a hovel," Hikaru commented, gaining a flick to the back of his head from Y/N. "Ow!"

"Be nice," She muttered back quietly, following Haruhi in.

"A wood-built two-bedroom unit—that's normal for a commoner family of two," Kyoya voiced, the group looking around the apartment in something mixed with awe and confusion.

"Haruhi's such a pipsqueak; at least we know she won't hit her head on the low ceilings," Kaoru noticed.

"Well, I think it's a super-cute little room!" Honey exclaimed.

"It's nice; I like your fridge color," Y/n admired, nodding repeatdly next to Honey as the two plastered on overexaggerated grins of happiness. 

"You don't have to struggle to compliment it," Haruhi grumbled.

"Hold on. Are we supposed to take off our shoes too?" Honey pointed to Haruhi's shoes that were by the door.

"Please, if you don't mind," she voiced, and the group followed, taking off their shoes.

"Thanks for inviting us in!" The fellow members thanked, walking over to the table.

"This place is quite unpleasant; I think I may have underestimated commoner housing. Okay, we are going to have to squeeze. Y/N, come by me and let's all put our knees to our chests," Tamaki commanded the group. Y/n scurried by the boy at his command, sitting next to him as Mori took up the space on her other side. It was clear that the larger group was cramped in the smaller room, all smushed against one another as Haruhi got the goodies prepared. 

"I'm going to go make us some tea," Haruhi told them as she walked over to her stove.

"Oh! Do you need help?" Y/n slowly stood up, squishing around with the group stuck at her side, but she was yanked back down by Mori pulling her. "Oh!"

"Hey. Here's an idea: why don't you make us this? It's black tea our father bought us as a souvenir from Africa, so try it," Hikaru suggested, and he pulled out the container magically from his side, passing it onto the host. 

"Mori-senpai, are you okay?" Y/n whispered over to him, but the boy just nodded, gently removing his arm away from her upper arm and going forth to look forward. 

"Um sure, no problem," Haruhi accepted the tea, moving over to her kitchen.

"It's best served as milk tea; do you have milk?" Kaoru inquired.

"I think, when was the last time that I bought some milk?" Haruhi thought to herself.

"Stop it; what the hell are you doing?" Tamaki yelled in a whisper. "Don't be so mean to her, you idiots!"

"What do you mean?" The twins asked.

"I know you're trying to embarrass her by asking for that African tea. Look! She has no idea how she's supposed to prepare it! We are trying to keep Y/n hap-" He quickly fake coughed. "Haruhi, trying to keep Haruhi happy and respect her."

"What if she doesn't even have a teapot?" Kaoru added.

"And she's too embarrassed to tell us that she doesn't!" Hikaru assumed. "I'm sorry, Haruhi; you don't have to go to all that trouble." He stuck out his hand, reaching for her.

"What? It's no trouble. Besides, I've already made it," she told him, finishing up pouring it.

"Man, that was a close one, boss," Kaoru sighed.

"We have been reduced by commoners' wisdom," Tamaki told the twins, whispering over to them on his other side, the three boys breathing a sigh of relief at the fact the tea was able to be created. 

"What do you mean, sir?" Hikaru asked.

"Nothing we know to be true in our world holds true here. We have to be careful how we react. One little off-handed remark could break Haruhi's heart, which would get Y/n upset and then break hers too. That means in this fight, the first person to embarrass Haruhi loses," Tamaki told them.

"Well guys, the tea is ready. I'm sorry that not all of the cups match," Haruhi apologized.

"Don't worry about it, Haruhi-chan," Y/n voiced. "I'll even have some tea," she told her.

"You're taking off your mask? Like right now? In front of all of us?" Tamaki started to fire off questions to her. Tamaki leaned in closer, to which Mori reacted by reaching in front of Y/n and pushing his shoulder away a bit in order to give Y/n some room.

"No, not fully.” She huffed quietly, some embarrassment sneaking up into her senses. “I can still cover my mouth with my hand when I'm about to take a sip or a bite of something," she explained, moving a little closer to Mori, away from the peering Tamaki.

"Go on, N/n-chan! You can choose your cake first!" Honey offered.

"I think I'll let Haruhi go first." Y/n looked towards her friend, pushing the box closer across the table. "You are letting us visit in your home.”

"Are you sure, Y/n?"

"Go on, we're rich; we eat this kind of stuff all the time," Kaoru (horribly) reassured her.

"I'll take this one then," She pointed to a vanilla piece with strawberries decorating the top, taking it on her plate and soon munching upon it.

"I'll take this chocolate one," Y/n giddily lifted it up, pushing her fork through the cake and swiftly bringing it to her lips. She used her other hand to pull down the mask and push it past her lips, all while still hiding it from the majority's view. "This is so good," she mumbled. The only ones who could catch a peak were Tamaki, who had already seen the view in its full motion, and Mori with lighter cheeks than normal. 

"She's so cute!" The twins and Tamaki commented, watching her eat and forgetting about themselves. For many club members, it was a great confusion as to why the mask was always a common appearance in her outfits, but one that Kyoya had warned them about in the beginning—a backstory lying within. 

"Here, Y/n, take this chocolate piece on top of my cake; you like chocolate, right?" Mori picked it up with his fork and placed it on her plate.

"Yeah, I do!" She looked happily at him, taking the piece and soon moving it towards her mouth. "Thank you, Mori-senpai," He just shrugged but moved over closer and rested an arm behind her, leaning on it as he took in the subtle views of Y/n’s lips munching onto the dessert. It was shocking to Mori how much seeing the oral part of one's face could totally make an appearance.

"Why didn't we think of that?" Hikaru yelled, anime tears falling from his, Kaoru, and Tamaki's eyes.

"I should have been sharing chocolate with her," Tamaki whined.

"Why'd we let him trick us?!" Kaoru wondered sadly.

"Eating all that cake sure wet my appetite," Honey sighed.

"Yeah, isn't it lunchtime about now?" Hikaru realized. 

"Well then, what's for lunch?" Four of the members asked the tired girl.

"Mori-senpai," Y/n nudged his shoulder a little, gaining his attention. "Do you think Haruhi is okay with all of us? I mean, this was all unannounced, and we are now asking her to do all these things; I don't want to upset my friend," she worried, looking at him.

"She's okay; you are a good friend. Don't worry," He patted her head once, the calloused fingers resting in the different buds of hair on the top of her head. His fingers ever so slightly nudged their way beneath the hair before a noise snapped him out of his thoughts. 

"Well, if that's what you want," Haruhi began. Mori speedily removed his hand from such a position and focused his attention back onto the table. "I do have a friend who runs a nice little sushi shop nearby. So I can just give him a call; his stuff is pretty high quality."

Tamaki looked at her weirdly, grabbing a piece of paper and scribbling on it soon enough, handing it to her with a very suspicious expression.

"Be careful, Haruhi; just because the sushi's packaging says 'premium' doesn't mean that it's high quality," she read out loud. "I'm not stupid; I could figure that out on my own." She turned to him.

"How could you do that to me? Daddy even tried to look casual and not embarrass you like Y/n would have wanted.” To which the girl mentioned just shared a glare with her friend. 

"I'd really like it if you made us something for lunch, Haru-chan," Honey voiced happily.

"No, Honey-senpai!" Hikaru yelled.

"How could you ask that of her?!" Kaoru added.

"Don't upset her; try to restrain yourself!" Tamaki commented.

"I guess I could whip something up, but it's going to take me some time," Haruhi told Honey.

"We can wait," Y/n piped up. "I can also help you cook; I know a few things." She mumbled, standing up but getting fingers wrapped around her wrist once again. "I promise i'm not that bad Mori-senpai," She laughed and he removed his fingers, watching her walk away. "It's the least I could do."

"Why didn't we think of that?" the twins whined.

"This means that we will be able to taste Y/n's cooking," Tamaki said.

"I'm going to have to go to the supermarket again," Haruhi sighed.

"We're coming with you!" The twins spoke.

"Me too, me too!" Honey agreed, Y/n nodding her head eagerly, now the whole group in a place where they were wanting to go with.

"Yay! Commoners' supermarket! Commoners' supermarket!"

"This is going to be fun!" Honey yelled, running after Mori as they began to pile out of the room. Yet quickly Haruhi noticed the disappearance of two prominent members. 

"Well, that's it, So much for having the day off." She peaked through the other room, seeing Y/n and Tamaki by her mother's shrine. "Hey senpai, Y/n, are you guys coming?"

"We are; I just thought it would be good to pay our respects," Y/n told her. "She's pretty, like you, Haruhi. I'll meet you outside." She stood up, going out of the apartment where the other members waited.

"Your mother, she seems smart," Tamaki turned towards Haruhi; nonetheless, with the different circumstances of the girl joining the group, friendships were flourishing all around and especially between the blonde and secret girl. 

"Yeah, she was a lawyer," Haruhi informed him, a small smile drifting onto her lips.

"I bet she was a great one, I can tell. Trust me, you can't fool these eyes, Haruhi." Tamaki spoke very softly, his once more energetic demeanor toned down to share respect toward an important woman in his friend's life. 

"I'm not so sure about that senpai," Haruhi deadpanned. "She really was a great lawyer.” And with her comment, the girl got up, waiting for Tamaki to walk out with her, but as soon as he stood, a mysterious banana peel came into view, where the male slipped, falling on top of Haruhi. His hands held up his upper frame, just looming over her as he took in her features for any injuries. 

"Are you okay Haruhi?"

"I'm fine, but you're kind of heavy," she huffed.

"I'm home, Haruhi! Hey, why'd you leave the door open?" Her father walked in, spinning around in their dress.

"Welcome home, dad," Haruhi muttered, her father's eyes laid on the man on top of their daughter. "So dad, how was work?" 

Tamaki started to freak out, his mind running with thoughts about how they would react, how Y/n would react, and that the man standing at the door was truly Haruhi's father.

Haruhi's father walked over, throwing Tamaki off into the wall. "I'm sorry, I hated having to leave you home alone last night. You must have been lonely,"

"That sound, he hit really hard," Haruhi’s eyes widened at the fear of her fathers strength and the undoubted pain her club mate must be in.

"Ah, my arm has been bothering me; I sure could use a cup of hot tea,"

"Hot tea? I'll get it for you. Haruhi, your father wants hot tea; do you use firewood to boil it?" Tamaki started to rush all around the place.

"Oh, look at that; I've seem to come across a little pest. Would you like to tell me why you're addressing my daughter with such informality, young man?" Haruhi's father questioned, yanking on the young man's shirt to pull him back near him.

"Hey, is everything okay here, boss?" Hikaru poked his head through the door, the rest of the club behind him.

"Check it out; the person we passed downstairs is Haruhi's father," Kaoru realized.

"Hikaru, Kaoru, help me out here," Tamaki begged, lying on the floor.

"It's nice to meet you, Haruhi's dad. We're good friends of your daughter's, the Hitachiin brothers," they introduced, stepping on Tamaki to reach the man.

"So you are a crossdresser, aren't you?" Kaoru questioned.

"You're the first real corssdresser we've ever seen!" Hikaru told them.

"Sorry about him; he's a lady's man, if you know what I mean."

"He's a pheromone machine. In fact, I bet he's fooled around with more ladies than you can count," Kaoru explained with great exclamation, both of the twins highlighting the negative behaviors of their club leader. 

"He likes to fool around, huh?" An irk mark appeared on Ranka's face.

"I'm not a lady's man! I don't like your daughter; I only like a different girl. I'm being completely honest here; I care about Haruhi like she's my own daughter, same with Y/n!" The man stood up, flaring his hands all about. It was clear to Haruhi’s father that the blonde was no true threat, and thus he retreated his more intimating demeanor with the other members. 

"I get it; you must be the host club I've heard so much about!" Haruhi's father realized. "You certainly are a fine-looking bunch of men and a very pretty woman." He turned to Y/n, pawing at her hair. "I'm not sure which of you men I like most; all of you just call me Ranka? It's the professional name I use."

"Professional name? You mean like a stage name?" Honey asked.

"Exactly like that, Mitsukuni," Ranka smiled at him.

"Hold on. How did you know my name, sir?"

"You two are third years, Haninozuka Mitzukuni and Morionzuka Takashi." Ranka looked towards them. "You twins are first years and so is Takahashi Y/n; you are in the same class as Haruhi as well."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were Haruhi's father," Y/n apologized, bowing over and over in her seat. "You're so gorgeous and I was so inconsiderate; I should have done research to be prepared-"

"Don't worry, sweetie, I have heard a lot about you already!" She smiled.

"So Haruhi has told you about us?" Hikaru asked.

"No, just Takahashi, but Kyoya has told me about you two over the phone.”

"You truly are an amazing person, Ranka." The rest of the group looked oddly at this Kyoya, who plastered on a grateful grin. "We have been entrusted with the care of his special daughter; it's only natural that we introduce ourselves and give him periodic reports. Ordinarily that would be your job, wouldn't it?" Kyoya looked over at the shy Tamaki, who faced away—knees to his chest—from the others.

"I'm impressed the club has such a capable president!" Ranka admired. At the unknown notion that her father was communicating with Kyoya for a long period of time, his daughter jumped in anger at being left out of the light. She angrily packed up her purse and stood walking towards the door. "Haruhi, where are you going?"

"The supermarket, alright?" She rested her hand at the doorknob and looked back at Y/n. "I have to go shopping; Y/n is coming with, and the rest of you will stay here; try to behave yourselves.”

Y/n jumped up, waving goodbye to the group and rushing after Haruhi.

"Thank you, Haruhi!" She thanked, a small blush appearing on the said girl's cheeks.

"It-it's nothing; let's just get going." She stuttered, taking Y/n's hand and dragging her out of the door.

"Wait! We wanted to go to a commoners supermarket," Hikaru called out.

"I wouldn't bother; once she has made her mind up, she'll never change it!" Ranka lightly chuckled. She then explained how Haruhi has made most of the decisions on her own, like when she transferred to Ouran High School.

"I hope you boys know I'm thankful for you, and Y/n, since she met you, she seems happier. She's enjoying herself; wouldn't you think so, Suou Tamaki?" Ranka turned to the boy, who was now in a closet, basking in his sadness as mushrooms popped up around. 

"You know who I am?"

"Of course, I've heard a thing or two about when Haruhi was trying to get Y/n to join the group," Ranka smiled. "You're the one that didn't realize Haruhi was a girl until the last moment. You're clueless, aren't you? Pretty pathetic. Now that we've gotten all the introductions out of the way, how would you boys like to have a little fun?"

"Why didn't he tell me? I had no idea Kyoya-senpai has been calling my dad and giving him updates," Haruhi expressed tiredly.

"He might have felt it was important, I mean, he just wants to be involved in your life, it's easy to tell how much he loves you." Y/n patted her shoulder and then pulled her into a side hug. "You have to admit you're an independent person; it's not a bad thing, but sometimes other people want in too.”

"Yeah," she grinned, looking at Y/n. "You're also independent yourself, you know? Worse than me." She nudged her shoulder back, causing Y/n to laugh.

The rest of the Host Club members stayed back with Ranka, all sneakily looking at Y/n and Haruhi. Ranka wore a long coat, glasses, and a scarf to better hide their appearance as the rest of the boys followed along, hiding behind different objects and podiums.

"So we're going to follow them to the supermarket?" The twins questioned.

"This is what you meant by 'fun'?" Kyoya asked.

"Yes! I call it the stalking game." She threw them back a thumbs up, covering her face at the moment.

"What an attractive group of young men!" A woman whispered to another.

"In all honesty, I have a completely selfish reason for bringing you out with me. I want to be seen with a bunch of cute boys!" Ranka exclaimed, taking her glasses off and showing off her face.

At the supermarket, they watched Haruhi look at vegetables with Y/n at her side.

"OO! Haruhi, what about these vegetables?" She held up some lettuce. "Do you need this? Wait,  it doesn't look as nice as the lettuce in the salads at my home." Y/n stuck a finger to her chin, looking at the vegetable oddly.

"I doubt it is; yours is most likely grown in your garden," Haruhi laughed. "I could still use it for something else; feel free to put it in the basket."

"Thank you, Haruhi! Shopping is kind of fun."

"You don't go shopping?"

"Nope, I've only been to a store a few times, including our journey here earlier today," Y/n told her, wandering off to look at some coffee and bringing it back. 

“Do you really think it is necessary to follow her around like this?” Tamaki and Ranka peeked out from behind an aisle filled with different canned goods. “Are you that worried about her?”

“As you know, Haruhi lost her mother at a young age, and afterwards she took on all of the chores and shopping by herself. I decided to start following her whenever she would leave the house; maybe I’m just being overprotective?” Ranka sighed, patting her cheeks in deep thought. “I worry about her all the time; I’m the only one who can protect her, you know? Either she does not know how to depend on others or refuses to. She’s always been so independent and so strong. And she has this uncanny ability to affect others without even realising it.”

“That’s true; I’ve seen it." The president stared off, agreeing with the parental figure. He watched the two girls, Y/n nudging along the shoulder of Haruhi as they giggled off about something. They were finding pure, simple enjoyment in the task, truly enjoying one another's company. 

The girls didn't notice Honey, who was being pushed by Mori in the back, or the twins looking around themselves. "Hey Tamaki-senpai, what are you doing here?" Y/n turned around to look at the man.

"I followed you guys here so I could carry your shopping basket; you know how Daddy loves accessories." He awkwardly chuckled, ripping the basket away from her hands.

"Tamaki! What should we make?" Y/n grabbed him, dragging him over to a new section. "Isn't it so amazing how this place is set up and all the foods?” The girl excitedly took a turn of her head back to her female friend, “Haruhi! Come over and look with us!”

He looked down at her, admiring her, quiet for a moment before snapping out of his thoughts and joining in the conversation. "Yeah, we should make a stewpot, ones with lots of meat but no chrysanthemums," Tamaki told them.

"Does that sound okay, Haruhi? I'll help you make it!" Y/n beamed, looking at Haruhi intently.

"That's fine.”

"Here, Tamaki, take some chrysanthemum! You're favorite!" Ranka put more into his bowl, piling it up on top of the stew. "Y/n, you adorable girl, take some extra meat!”

"Ah, thank you, Ranka!" She grinned cheerily underneath her mask. "We did a good job." Y/n looked over at Haruhi, lifting up a spoonful of some of the stew to her lips. 

"Yeah, we did,” a soft hum left the girls lips before opening them up wider to take in the tasteful flavors of the stew. Ranka looked at her daughter, engaging with the other girl happily. It was clear that a certain host member of the group brought out more vibrant emotions from their daughter, and to admire the simple experience between the two girls caused his soul to shine a little brighter. 

Ranka laughed to herself, picking up a spoonful from their own bowl, "Alright, Haruhi, dear, try some of mine!”

next chapter - Big Brother is a Prince!

[azaharinflames]

I’m loving your theories on the whole BuckTommy (sorry Lou ilu but the name BuckTommy has stuck with me) arc. So I have to ask… why do you think people (read: fandom people) are convinced this is the last season? I really don’t see ABC/Disney undertaking this big of a show (money and following wise) and being like “yeah we’ll put time and effort into this production, but only for one season”

Thank you! Glad you love them, I feel slightly less of a clown when people understand how I think lol. Also - I was rooting for Tevan hard, and even Firefly, but I've accepted Bucktommy and now it has a special place in my heart.

As for your question... I think it all comes to change.

Let me explain. For shows to have a long life, they have to change. They have to evolve. We cannot feel as if we are tuning in to the same thing every week, especially when the same thing has long become boring. I will put Modern Family (my ultimate comfort show) as an example: the whole eleven seasons are of constant change. We are growing with the characters, we are happy, frustrated, sad, whatever, with their actions and choices. And because they are changing, we want to tune in next week to see what will be next.

911 has a severe issue of lack of change. The characters go through these cycles constantly; we said Buck was in a hamster wheel, but the truth is that every single character is in there, too. The writers are somehow unable to find new storylines or conflicts, that aren't what we have seen already, only this time with a new context.

This is partly the reason why so many people, and why a big part of the GA, latched onto Tommy and BuckTommy so quickly - because they were a breath of fresh air, and they felt like the much-needed novelty we were all expecting. If we don't have them, we go to the same repetitive stories - with Buck, but with everyone else, too, to be honest.

And if there is no change... people get bored. There are just so many times you can see Henren on the brink of losing their kids, or Buck trying to find the one (it's stopped being cute, especially when he just had the perfect partner for him walk away), Eddie being unable to move on or forget Shannon (because as much as he's 'better' - has he actually dealt with it?), Madney having either a kid storyline or a Dough-influenced storyline, Bathena having issues with communicating... eight seasons is a long time of this. And unless they change it up, just how much longer can they go? We joke about Grey's sometimes, but the fact is that they are constantly changing.

So. That's partly it.

But (without wanting to make this a whole novel), there were also rumors that some cast was hesitant to continue. Take this with a grain of salt, please, but rumor has it that Peter was kind of ready to walk away a while ago. He even has said in interviews he cannot do this for much longer, as 911 is a very exigent show to shoot. He even wanted Bobby to be killed off at the S7 opening emergency. Angela has also expressed a desire to be on Broadway, so that could also be conflicting. Again, take it with a grain of salt.

And as for ABC - you're right, they bought 911. But with the upcoming spin-off, one can't help but wonder if it is not complimentary but, rather, a substitute. Perhaps they are planning on moving someone from the OG there, who knows. The fact is that they managed to catch the audience's attention with the OG, enough that if they lose it but immediately have a variation of it, they might tune in. And this new show would be cheaper than OG is right now because let me tell you - it ain't cheap, as far as I am aware.

If you want my personal opinion on this - I am 50-50. I think it would be a very weird final season if this was the last, but I wouldn't be that surprised if we find out it is. I can see them going for a ninth season, but I cannot see them going further than a tenth, and that is being really generous. If they prove me wrong and are willing to adapt to change, I will happily eat my words.

PS: I do think if this is the last season, or even if we have it in the next couple of years, they could bring Tommy back (if they haven't yet), as a sort of rushed HEA. Kind of playing with the whole 'right person, wrong time', just bringing it to the right time finally.

Thanks for the ask <3

[1toreyouapart]

The Lies We Tell

Summary that tells you nothing: Sometimes everything you ever wanted has been right there, within reach, all along.

CW/TW: Angst, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, jealousy, smut, fingering, PinV, pet names, friends with benefits, more to come as I actually get things written out.

Masterlist

Why Do Men?

Quinn pushed the food around on her plate, barely listening to the man across from her. He was attractive enough, seemed kind. But good God, he was boring. From the moment she walked in he droned on and on about him and what he did for work, how much money he made. His big flashy car he had. Right now she was really hoping that Noah had asked her to stay with him instead. In fact, she had been sure that he would. Instead, he had rushed out of that bathroom and she hadn't seen him since. Not even when she knocked on his door before she left.

Him telling her she had shitty taste in men still stung a bit. Mostly because it was true. And who was it that picked up the pieces after every failed date? Every brief relationship that failed after three months? Noah. Always there to pick up the pieces and put her back together again. She was willing to bet he already had a whole thing planned for when she got home tonight, too.

"You're one of those goth girls, right?"

Quinn snapped out of her head. What the fuck was this guy on about?

"Excuse me?"

"I'm asking because you look like one. Tattoos, dark hair. Dark clothes." He leaned forward. "Bet you're into some kinky shit, too."

Her stomach turned. What the fuck? Did he really just say that? It didn't matter so much that she wasn't goth. Though, she definitely had more gothic tendencies than not. The sexualization of goth girls, however, was too much. It was vile. It was disgusting. God. Noah had been right.

"Mmmm. This date is over." Sighing, frustrated, she got up, pulling out her wallet. "Here's my half."

"Oh, come on. Don't be like that. It's just a question."

"Be like what? Bored out of my mind because you can't shut the fuck up about how great you think you are? Or irritated because you seem to think that goth women exist for your pleasure?" She threw the money down on the table, laughing. "See you never."

Satisfied she walked away, pulling her phone out. Everything in her screamed at her to call Noah, not an Uber. Noah would be there faster. But she didn't want to hear his "I told you so" just yet. That might set her off even more and she was trying not to cause a scene.

The cool night air hit her skin as the app told her a driver was on her way. 15 minutes until her ride arrived. Cursing she pulled up the text thread with Noah, debating texting him that he had been right. Just then, however, her date appeared in front of her, angry.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? You're not even that pretty, anyway."

Quinn's stomach churned, her palms going sweaty as she glanced up and down the sidewalk. There were people. Lots of them. She should be safe, right? Fuck. What had Noah taught her? He had tried so hard to teach her how to defend herself. Now that the time may be here she couldn't remember a thing. Steeling herself for what may happen she lifted her chin, meeting the man's eyes.

"I said the date is over."

"You know, you should be grateful I even gave you the time of day. I make more money in a year than you ever will in your life."

She laughed. Genuinely deeply laughed. This guy wasn't going to attack her. His ego might be bruised, but that's as far as it would go. The type of guy that used his wealth to get sex. If he even actually made that much money.

"Says the grown ass man crying because the girl that 'isn't even that pretty.' Do you even hear yourself right now?"

"Whatever. Good luck finding a man that'll put up with you."

She watched as he walked off, ignoring the tiny crack in her armor that last comment had made. So many failed dates. Nothing lasting more than three months in the last seven years. Maybe he was right and there was something just inherently wrong with her. Her track record definitely spoke to that.

Her phone lit up, letting her know her ride had arrived just as a vehicle with an Uber sign in the window showed up. Thank fucking God. All she wanted right now was her pajamas, a movie, and her best friend.

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

[itsmyfandomandilikeit]

Ok I have gone through all available evidence and I have a prediction.

Look I'm ngl I am watching Arcane for Cait and Vi. I love the show overall but this ship is what I'm most here for, especially after I spent the last 3 years under the assumption that Mel was dead. Glad she isn't. Point is, I really want CaitVi/Violyn/Piltover's Finest to be handled well, and I pay a disproportionate amount of attention to what happens with these two.

After watching the first arc of season 2 the other day, I was trying really hard to ignore the ending to episode 3. I didn't like that Cait hit Vi in the stomach and abandoned her in a pit after being all classist at her, but I thought, this is Arcane. Arcane is the greatest fucking thing I've ever seen, of course they're gonna find a way to make this work. But that made me think of it as a puzzle. How could they possibly make this work?

Option one, Cait sucks now and she and Vi don't get back together. I don't think this makes sense, because of the brand. CaitVi is a popular ship that just about everybody likes. A huge amount of the hype for this season before the trailers came out was building up assurances that don't worry, CaitVi is happening and it's not gonna be ambiguous. Take this teaser from like two weeks after season 1 ended, a couple of Valentine's Day icons, and one million tweets from Amanda Overton. Why the fuck would they make this season be about Cait and Vi not working out? It simply doesn't make logical sense.

Ok, so we're starting from the assumption that Cait and Vi have a happy ending that makes people feel like they should be together, and continue to want to play as them in the games and buy merchandise. That means they either explicitly get back together, or it's so implied there isn't much of a difference. My money is on zero ambiguity. Vi is the main character and Cait is maybe #3 or #4. Ambiguity about their ending would just look like a weak writing choice and they didn't know what they're doing. The Arcane writers don't tend to go for wishy washy.

But here's the problem. Domestic violence is bad. It's about the fastest way to guarantee the majority of your audience doesn't think two characters should be together. It would take a herculean effort on Cait's part to make up for that and honestly I still wouldn't believe it. To me, there isn't any kind of act of service that makes up for hitting your partner. Not even ensuring the independence of the nation of Zaun. Add on top of that the over the top hurtful comments about Vi's blood and class. It makes her look very much like, deep down, she thinks of Vi as beneath her. If she meant those things, a relationship between them is impossible. (Not to mention how many teenaged girls I know are watching this, and I don't want them to think it's ever okay to be treated like that, even in a fantasy series.)

So my prediction is this. The only way to make a relationship between Cait and Vi viable again is to render those comments and the sentiment they carry meaningless. How do the writers do that? Imo it turns out later that Cait intentionally came up with cruel things to say to cut Vi loose. She realized that Vi would never be able to kill Jinx, and this new explosion will make the situation aboveground even worse, and Vi still won't be able to contribute to the hunt after this. Vi has no future as an enforcer against Jinx and will probably get treated like dogshit as a Zaunite, so Cait is "breaking her heart to save her", as Tvtropes would say. In Cait's mind, it's better if she's left down here in Zaun.

What evidence do I have for this? It fits Cait's characterization as a genius who thinks quickly and several steps ahead. It fits the tiny animation details we zero in on of her stiffening her trembling lips and furled eyebrows. It un-ruins the most popular canon relationship in League. It allows act 1 to end on massive shock value but roll it back later to show that Cait actually does love Vi, enough to let her go for her own good.

I'm not arguing this is the best possible solution but it's the one I think they're going to go with. Amanda Overton and some others have repeatedly said that CaitVi fans will be happy with the ending to Arcane. Everything about the show(the opening, Netflix Brazil's Twitter account, the story) points to them being the show's OTP except for this one scene. I think Cait intentionally cut Vi out of her life by pretending to be much crueler than she wanted to be, to protect her and, likely, as a form of self destruction.

[omori-cottage]

Blade x cafeowner!reader

Info : 1600+ words, gender natural reader but intended for fem reader, soft Blade, only small Blade cameo, possible grammar errors

Cold nights were nothing new at this point, every night is the same : fog, coldness and sometimes rain. Fall is truly an annoying season, some people love it but it was annoying, especially for you. You owned a small cafe on a quiet planet, the business wasn’t bad but it wasn’t great either, though all clients loved to come there simply because of the cozy atmosphere that was perfect for the winter seasons. You worked pretty much on your own since you didn’t have enough money for a server and that was fine, you fulfilled your dream and that was what was important, even if it wasn’t cheap.

Work was nothing special, taking orders, waking up at 6am to start baking, making coffee.. each day was peaceful, that’s the purpose of a cafe after all, to relax and spend some quiet time, perhaps do some work. Today you prepared yourself for work like always and it went just about how you expected. It was getting dark outside so there weren’t many clients inside and the money was a bit low in the register that day, though at least it would pay for the coffee supply.

As you wiped down the counter, humming silently to some music you were playing, a bell rang, signaling that another customer walked in.

“Welcome! Table for one?”

You greeted and asked with a smile, a normal procedure that came out of your lips almost on its own without you thinking about it. Though as you looked up and saw the customer, your thoughts were a little more than confused.

The man that walked in was tall with dark blue hair, he was wearing a sort of hat and sunglasses… who the hell wear sunglasses outside of summer?- That wasn’t important, sure the guy looked a bit suspicious but as long as he didn’t cause you any trouble, you didn’t care. Though, you almost felt like you recognised him, maybe you passed him on the street?

The guy just nodded so you showed him to a table. It was somewhere in the corner of the cafe and it was perfect for one person. The rest of the customers looked at him as they passed but none said anything. The table was small and it had a comfortable chair to go along with it, along with a blanket, pillows and a lot of flower decoration. The spot provided a great view outside since it was situated in front of the big window that showed the city center. Well, perhaps that table didn’t fit his aesthetic but the man said nothing and just sat down, thanking you after you gave him a menu so you left.

You took his order after a while, it was just a black coffee, simple enough so you delivered it just a few minutes later and went back to work. About half an hour later, as you were taking another customers order, the bell rang, but multiple times, which caused you to be confused though you had little time to react before you heard a loud bang sound. It was the guards and that loud sound was a gunshot! You had no idea what was happening, the customers hid under their tables in fear and you went behind the counter to hide quickly. All you heard was running, multiple gunshots, sounds of fighting and tables breaking… damn it, they weren’t cheap! And you still had no idea why the guards were there!

After a few minutes, everything stopped. You looked over the counter and it seemed like the guards weren’t there anymore. You stood up, asked the customers if anyone needed help and luckily, no one ended up injured. After everyone left, you were left alone in your cafe and you felt like crying, a lot of the equipment was destroyed, all the tables, chairs… you checked the place and it seemed like the back doors were broken as well, clearly the guards were trying to catch someone. Well whatever they were doing, you weren’t happy, all the replacements will cost you a fortune and the worst thing was, you didn’t have that kind of money so your cafe would have to be closed for now!

You started to clean up, barely holding in your tears as you swept all the glass and dirt off the floors, though then you heard the bell again. Weird, you locked the doors, you were sure, so who was it? You didn’t even think but as you heard footsteps approaching you, you turned to face the presumed attacker with your broom and almost swung, before you noticed who it was, it was the customer from before!

“Huh? Ah, I’m sorry…”

“Wait, how did you get in?!”

You lost your guard for a moment, though as quickly you pointed the broom at him again, though you also realized that it wasn’t a very dangerous weapon.. but it had to do.

“Lockpicked, it didn’t take long. I just wanted to apologize.”

“Apologize? For lockpicking my door? Yeah it’s sure deserved because I went through enough hell today and you aren’t making it better!”

You felt slightly bad for getting mad at your customer, but how could you not, the guy did just break in, though all your morals said that it wasn’t exactly proper customer service.

“For that as well, yes, but mostly for the trouble I caused you today. I didn’t think they would catch me here… Silverwolf said the area was clear.”

The blue haired man said, the last part mostly he mumbled to himself. Silverwolf? Trouble?... oh wait a minute, that guy disappeared after the guards arrived! So he must have been the one they were chasing!

“Apologies aren’t enough, you know, replacements will cost me thousands! What did you even do to get them to chase after you? Robbed a bank?”

You were angry, annoyed, it wasn’t enough, the costs were enormous and this guy just decided to come to your cafe, break in and then nicely apologize? That was a horrible move, it made you feel more hurt if anything!

“If you don’t know me already then it’s best not to say. What is important is that I didn’t mean to cause you trouble and since the hospitality was nice, I thought that I should help you clean up.”

That seemed like a nice offer, a strange one coming from probably a criminal, but a good one, especially considering the day you had. You started heading to the counter to give him something to clean with but then suddenly, the guy just jumped on you and hid you behind the counter! Oh how you wanted to yell at him, curse him out and perhaps even try to get through his head that apologizing isn't an appropriate payment with your broom, but you couldn’t because the asshole covered your mouth with his hand!

Though, as you peeked slightly from behind the counter, you saw through the big window in the front of the store, lights, guardian lights. That meant that someone was on patrol right now, no wonder why he hid but he didn’t have to bring you with him or at least not like this! You stayed still, though still pissed at him but you decided to not ruin his cover yet, even though you very much could probably put him in jail right now if you just decided to scream or try to run to the guard.

You were quite close to the guy, right against his chest as the two of you waited for the guard to leave. You still didn’t even know his name but he was probably the closest you ever was with someone, that was slightly sad and not exactly comfortable since he was a stranger but yet his hold on you wasn’t very tight, it was protective if anything, tight enough so he would be able to help you up or run with you if needed yet loose to the point you could feel okay. For a criminal, this guy didn’t seem aggressive or hostile, he just seemed like someone that probably needed rest and got into some bad business but who were you to say, you just owned a cafe.

After a few minutes, the guard left and the man removed his hand from your mouth with a sigh.

“Okay, it should be clear now. It seems like they might pay more attention to this place now.”

You moved away from the guy, finally standing up. You were still mad at him, he shouldn’t treat you like that but well, he did try to save you.. or rather himself but decided to take you with him.

“Great, that’s something that will surely help with business, a fight and guards running around the cafe…”

You sighed, closing your eyes in annoyance. The mysterious man stood up as well or at least that’s what you heard because soon the lights went out! What the fuck was happening, you were done with that day, it was horrible. You moved to turn on the light and well, the guy wasn’t there, like he just disappeared!

You were ready to just go ahead and say that you were nuts, that day was way too weird for it to be real, though as you leaned over the counter, you saw a wrapped note. As you opened the note, it read :

“Sorry I couldn’t help, I have a job to do. Hopefully this will be enough to pay you back - Blade”

Blade? So that was his name? You didn’t have much time to ponder about this because then a couple of notes fell from the note onto the counter, you picked them up to check how much and your eyes widened.

It was 1 500 000 credits. Damn 1 500 000 credits! That was more than enough for replacements, it would help you pay the bills for like, the next year probably!

Maybe that guy wasn’t so bad, despite the chaos he caused.

[jweekgoji]

I love your platonic hcs with five!! Can you make more please?:33

Yandere!Five/Reader [platonic/hcs]

tw: very soft yan!dad!five, reader described as child here, mentions of Five/Dolores romantic relationship, brief mentions of Five's past trauma, hints on eating disorders, overprotective behavior word count: ~900. a/n: Thank you for your request, Anon. It was good to write something about my old interest after quite a break. I made this is mostly based on information I had read months ago from some book. Tiny sequel for this.

Kinda sad that tua fics aren't as popular as before and slowly dying.

Let's ignore the ending and other moments we shouldn't talk and pretend like...everything ended well for the Hargreeves family! All the siblings mostly live separately from each other, but they still care for one another and meet on birthdays and other holidays.

Five meets a young, pretty lady during one of his undercover missions, and after that «love at first sight» trope, their relationship grows strong, leading to Five finally abandoning his job as an agent (honestly, good for him).

I really like the idea of Five having a quiet, peaceful life somewhere far away with his family. His wife is a popular fashion model and earns enough money for the family, while Five is the one who stays at the house, keeping you safe and raising the way he wished he was.

Five is scared to repeat the past mistakes his family members made; that's why I see him being extra overprotective with you. He wants to give you everything he never had in his childhood, and it often leads to you growing into some spoiled brat.

I can see him pausing for a moment and having that «wait...WHAT?» look when you reply with a sassy remark, and that's the moment he sees that you're basically becoming the tiny version of his young self. Part of him is proud, he knows that you will be able to stand up for yourself in the future, but the other part...he's not really happy to deal with someone who uses his own methods against him, as we can tell from the show (points at the other versions of Five).

Five is that parent who wakes up early in the morning to prepare breakfast for you. He has a sweet tooth, but he avoids giving you too much sugar, like I mentioned before. By the moment you wake up, you see a plate of eggs and bacon carefully formed into a smiley face with a glass of juice next to it.

I see Five spending a lot of time reading about parenting. He is well-educated enough in many fields, but it's just something he likes to do when he is free from house chores. Sitting in the chair with glasses on and a warm blanket laid on his lap, it's a heartwarming sight. Dolores will return from work later this day, only to see her husband having a nap in their little library and their child eeping next to him.

Five is especially careful with the food he prepares for you. After decades of loneliness in the apocalypse, he had few food choices. Every day felt like a constant survival, and the idea of you experiencing the same at such a young age terrifies him. He unconsciously gives you a little too much food, constantly asking “you need more?” just to make sure you're well-fed. Five might pay less attention to himself, but you're getting the best meal ever.

Five gives me the idea of that dad who will hold you close next to him 24/7. Yandere Five just can't bear the idea of you being somewhere away from home for more than an hour. There's a deep conflict in his heart, and his wife always tells him that it's fine. You're growing up, it's natural for you to try and separate from your parents, but this bothers him to insanity.

There's no more apocalypse, no more The Commission; the world is quiet now; there's no need for him to worry about. He never argues with you about it, the moment you leave your home to meet with a friend, your phone will cry from constant messages like “are you okay?”, “where are you now?”, “when will you go back?”. He needs to know it in case, well...just something happens, he's responsible adult, after all.

For most parents, Five seems like the ideal father figure, but he gets a little overbearing sometimes. When you snap at him, giving something like “just leave me alone!”, he would get quiet immediately. It is a significant difference between him now and in the past.

Usually he never lets people to dismiss him like that, he would have dragged you back and lectured you about disrespecting him, but now he's just sad. He will let you cool down, just to think what he has done wrong.

Five loves spending time with you, mainly because he never had the chance to spend some time with his own family. There were missions, there were trainings, there were constant fighting, etc., and after his retirement he plans to give his full attention to you. He knows a lot, from how to solve some difficult equations under 15 minutes to how to kill a person with a pencil, but it's not the same when the person whom you trust the most teacher you everything.

Reginald never bothered to spend a simple father and son moments, how to be a man and deal with various situations in his life, that's why he wants to teach you of something simple. He knows it's not as impressive, but it's quality time that matters.

[bretonalchemist]

i NEED to expand on this 10 years later/the farmer never moved to sdv dream so here it is :

- Sebastian left and became a very successful programmer who lives in a high rise building in Zuzu City and wears suits, but he's very jaded about the world. He sneers at the optimism of his little brother, but somewhere deep inside, he misses the person he used to be.

- Alex has made it pro and he's good but he's also empty inside and he turns to alcohol to fill it up. He calls his grandparents every evening and visits them every weekend religiously. He cries into the dark once Evelyn hangs up.

- Shane has a made a few suicide attempts but Jas had a breakdown at about 13 yo and slapped the shit out of him so he's trying to get better, he stopped drinking and is going to therapy but he is living life through gritted teeth

- Sam is a semi-famous rockstar. He thinks he loves it. He doesn't. He actually doesn't really know what to do with his life now that he has reached his goal, and desperately tries to fill the hole in his heart by buying extravagant gifts for each member of his family. He's always smiling but his eyes are so, so tired

- Elliott has written several books and published none, because he lacks the confidence. He feels like his masterpiece is just at his fingertips and often spends entire nights feverishly writing. He's work drunk. His clothes and fingers are stained with ink. Willy hired him as a clerk to run the shop when he's on the sea, and that's the only money he makes, and he mostly spends it on supplies and alcohol at the saloon. He's become too thin with haunted, crazy eyes half the time.

- Harvey became the new mayor of Pelican Town when Lewis resignes for health reasons. The whole town is growing older and he feels his workload getting bigger. He feels guilty that he cannot keep al of them healthy, even if it's not a logical thought. He doesn't have the time for any hobbies anymore. He doesn't even have the time to realize that his own health is deteriorating. The man is in burnout.

- Haley also left for Zuzu City because she got noticed on social media and became a model. She's finally living the life she dreamed of, full of fancy clothes and sparkles and so so many people taking care of her without her asking. And she hates it. All of it. And she doesn't know why and it drives her crazy. She becomes hateful and angry, the cliché of an ungrateful celebrity. She doesn't dare contact her sister because she doesn't want to admit that she was right about everything, so she's alone

- Leah has moved to the farm and become a farmer. Her ex was stalking her and buying every art piece she made, so she stopped completely. She slowly started making art again, but now, every piece she finishes gives her panick attacks and she destroys them in a frenzy, crying and hyperventilating the whole time. She adopted a big german shepherd that serves as a guard dog, a farm dog and a support animal, named Minnie

- Penny created a montessori school and Pam takes kids from Zuzu City to Pelican Town so they can go to the school. She has a small classroom of 12 kids, all ages up to 10. Her mother is SO proud of her and she is happy to do wake up to go to work everyday. She still reads books in her spare time and is much more confident. But she kinda feels like she's going to become a crazy cat lady, because none of the bachelors left in Pelican Town seem interested in her. She doesn't want to seems desperate but she kinda is, the kids she takes care of make her heart twinge with pain everytime they slip up and call her "mom"

- Abigail has become a tattoo artist, she set up her shop in the community center and people come from far away to get her art on their skin. None of her friends are still in town, so she became buddies with Shane, who frowns at her everytime she downs a can of beer. Her parents divorced and her mother went back to her grandparents'. She still lives with Pierre, but she's old enough to realise that he is not her biological father, and that's the reason why her parents separates. She is angry about everything. She used to play the drums to release some frustration but it started not being enough, so she finally bought a sword from Marlon and went into the mines. She fights monsters when she's so angry she can't speak and her eyes seem to throw curses at people. Her body is full of callouses and scars from all her ventures into the mines. The wizard tries to approach her once but she punched him square in the nose. She is fairly sure he sometimes casts protective spells on her, she can feel her skin prickling weirdly, but it just angers her and makes her take even more risks.

- Emily has started a Youtube channel and uploads meditation, ASMR and hypnosis videos. She's built a loving community and feels like she's making a difference. But she's also losing grasp with reality. She's making enough money not to work at Gus' anymore, but she is so focused on her community that she is going out less and less

i had a dream that Fields of Mistria had an update and the map was a bit bigger, but also npcs came to visit from out of Mistria and it was the Stardew bachelors/bachelorettes !! except they were all like 10 years older, also Maru and Sebastian had a new baby brother who was like... 7 maybe ? and he followed Maru around like a duckling because he admired her so much. but Maru was so much colder, she had lost a leg and had a robotic prosthetic instead, and i was trying to uncover the story of WHAT HAPPENED ???

[natsmagi]

what are your opinions abt people using ych as bases? don't want to start anything but my friends said its theft but it's just a pose? as long as u don't make it your own or smth

ohh very interesting!! i think maybe its being viewed a bit incorrectly here? because arent ych's usually art commissions? theyre little poses an artist has drawn out for you to commission for ur character to be in. this is a good way of doing comms if u dont really have a lot of time for elaborate and fully unique pieces but are still in need of a couple bucks

so honestly, i dont think they should be used as bases...... you can definitely use them as inspo! but dont draw over them like one would a base..... it feels disrespectful to the artist and kind of takes work and income away from them. so, if you see a ych you like, its better to just commission the artist! or, if comms arent open, draw ur own variant from scratch! its ok to use other peoples work as inspiration, just dont draw over it if theyve not given expressed permission to do so

no one can own a pose, this much is true, but they do own the ych drawing. so, when it comes to the ych drawing itself, what the artist says goes

[luck-of-the-drawings]

when i was in highschool one o my biggest coping mechanisms was drawing all the kids i hated getting killed and eaten and killed. and well. time is a slowly ascending spiral. you will find patterns.(i work as a blackjack dealer. gamblers are FASCINATING

[dramarants]

Wanting more homoeroticism in the tension between the show’s leads as the narrative introduces greater intimacy and higher stakes between them, especially in a landscape that lacks queer representation who isn’t a villain or dies within one or two episodes, but also recognizing that core values/motivation for these characters lie in their relationships with one of two major female characters in an on screen sausage fest where the only other woman is a morally reprehensible femme fatale and erasing and/or vilifying female leads in favor of conventionally attractive males is a common practice observed in fandoms that’s rooted in misogyny and justified under the guise of rejecting heteronormativity, thinly veiled double standards, or claiming the woman is simply not interesting enough and not wanting to bolster that mindset

[faithfromanewperspective]

concert tickets are not an investment. hate how everything in this economy we’re like ‘ooh what if I buy it cheap then hike the price up and resell’ and it’s perfectly normal—it’s not. it’s not okay. what’s happening is you’re taking advantage of someone who’s really desperate to see this artist when if they wanna spend that money on the artist, the money should go to the artist themselves. who probably don’t change as much as they could because they’ve set a price that is financially sustainable for themselves and accessible to most who want to go not just the wealthy or those who don’t spend money on any other artists. and I’m not talking about if you can’t go to your concert and resell your ticket closer to it for like 25% more to get a bit back for all the time you spent waiting in queue for a concert you don’t even get to go to. the reason concert tickets are so hard to get is because there are people competing to buy them who are just gonna resell them for absurd amounts of money and honestly? as concertgoers and fans of artists we deserve better. our artists deserve better. they didn’t put a middleman in there. we don’t need it.

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

theyre doing an interest poll for the thh characters on plushwonderland and i am. unfortunately. tempted....

[whatudottu]

I have a question what were Annie's og parents like(i mean she was willing to run away with five aliens to be her fathers instead so I don't think they might have been the best😬) or maybe they're dead and were good people idk

A lot of the lore is actually written by @sweetpeaches666, who may be tagged under sugarbutterfly432, thanks to Annie technically being a 3 way OC lmao. There has been nothing solidly concrete about Annie's OG parents beyond the fact that she doesn't know her ancestry and she's had many foster homes AND orphanages to live in (plus it'd also be easier legal wise for the Andromeda 5 to adopt her if she isn't officially someone else's kid at the time)

It's actually why she does ballet, one of her foster mothers wanted to recreate her failed dream, turns out it breeds resentment and a lot of running away :P

What can be said is that Annie's been many different homes and in a constant state of transitioning between them, a prime example of being a refunded kid and all that, something something No Roots by Alice Merton yada yada 'oh no that's relatable'. Her birth parents one way or another have never been in her life, though regardless of what actually happened Annie will always believe that they left her behind like like everyone else did :P