#somewhat??? all ages server???

[dilutedbeanibeans]

I HAVE MADE A FFVII SERVER!!!!!!

the link is here!!!

also general notes in tags please read before joining!!!

just a general hangout ffvii server :]!!!

[datastate]

i keep finding reminders of how i used to act/type a few years ago and i shrivel up. and die.

[nanamis-bigtie]

Neighboring Whispers

Character: Higuruma Hiromi Reader: female (cis) CW: explicit nsfw content, pre-relationship, neighbors next door, attraction at the first sight, mutual pinning, hair fetish, hair pulling, blowjob, fingers in mouth, spitting in mouth, praise kink & pet names (good girl and variations), fingering & vaginal sex, spanking, creampie, reader has long, non-curly hair and tattoos (yes, it's plot relevant) Word Count: 9k Synopsis: By a pressing accident you were left without water in your apartment, and you were forced to beg your neighbor, Higuruma, for letting you to take a shower in his bathroom. Dazed after a sleepless night, he obliged to your request. The consequences of his spontaneous decision had been haunting him ever since... A/N: little birds chirped @lale-txt wanted a sexy lawyer under her christmas tree and since we were already doing a server exchange... ;) merry a little late christmas, Lale, I hope you will enjoy this absolute monster of a one shot! ❤ jjk masterlist // ao3 version

The first ring was like an irritating fly, bouncing off the walls of his exhausted concentration, its dull buzzing drilling into his ears.

The second jolted him from head to toes, the first move in a prominently long time, aching and tingling in stiff joints and drowsy muscles.

The third finally made him peel eyes off the screen, his sight blurry and invisible sand grazing under his eyelids. 

Higuruma hid face behind the soothing shadow of his hands, plastered tight to his skin, and groaned, almost cursed. He was tired, so deadly tired he would swore he could feel the dark circles under his eyes. The dizziness was comparable to one after an unsuccessful power nap—yet, he knew he wasn't asleep even for a second. He couldn't, not when at work, at that damned work he swore he would touch only for an hour, two at the absolute maximum, and then go to bed, to finally grab proper rest for the rare free day to come. 

For how long was he stuck by the kitchen table, the place he had chosen to avoid the focus? Higuruma feared to peel hands off his eyes, but he still did so. The light, sipping through wide open blinds, was already bright and dazzling. The microwave clock was even more merciless: it showed a few minutes past eight.

Fuck.

The fourth ring was the longest, desperate and inappropriate for such an early hour. Under other circumstances Higuruma wouldn't welcome the intruder with open arms but at that moment he felt somewhat grateful for snapping him out of trance. 

"Coming." He announced, more to himself than to the person behind the door. Legs bent and swayed under him at first, he had to lean against the table for a moment, cursing his workaholism and age, but he forced himself to stand straight, then to walk. By the time he reached the door he was almost back to state befitting a man in his thirties, not a senior he got turned into by a sleepless, work-full night.

Higuruma didn't look through the peephole first, just opened, catching you already turning back. A whirl of long hair caught his attention faster than your face, not that it helped him much when he finally met it with his exhausted—yet still attentive—gaze. He could roughly pinpoint it as familiar but couldn't bring any name nor other particularly useful information to it. 

He knew you lived on the same floor. He knew you were often doing groceries in the same shop as him. He knew you both were sometimes taking the same train in the morning—but he had never caught which was your stop.

That's all.

"How can I help you, miss—" Higuruma's voice faltered; he was still trying to squeeze your name out of his memory, but his focus was already taking a different direction. There was something eerie about you, something concerning not as a danger for him but as a sign something must had happened, to you or to the whole surrounding. He wouldn't put it past himself to miss an emergency; when he was working, he could have easily overlooked a whole apocalypse. 

You were a mess. Possibly worse than his own. Uncombed hair, falling over your shoulders in tangled strands, greasy face, visibly home-only oversized tracksuit, blowzily thrown over your shoulders, a tote bag, overfull, squeezed tight to your chest… He wasn't a detective, but he could easily tell you left your place in a hurry.

"Y/N." You relieved Higuruma of his main concern. "I live at number 33."

You took a sharp turn, nodding to your door, but Higuruma's eyes barely followed, yet again swallowed by the sheer waterfall of your hair. 

"Alright, this is gonna be…awkward." You took a deep breath, as if adding yourself power to wade through whatever pressed on your soul. "Please. I beg. I need a shower."

"Pardon?" Higuruma almost choked on breath, shocked less by the sudden request, just rapidly pulled out of chaotic thoughts buzzing at the back of his head. Thoughts full of your hair and its flow, the suffocating and entrancing vortex. 

"I have no water." You nearly sobbed. "There's a renovation up there, I forgot… The whole plumb line is turned off on my side. I don't know when— Fuck, I have a meeting in three hours. I don't have time to run to a bathhouse, even if they would let me in…"

He must have made an exceptionally stupid expression because you stumbled out of your panicked trance and hurried to explain what he hadn't even deemed as needing any explanation. Hugging the tote with one arm, you rolled the sleeve of the other and revealed a tattoo running up the forearm towards the elbow.

He nodded with understanding.

 "Please, sir, no one else answers the door…" Your gaze flicked at him with such pleading that his already crumbling resolve immediately backed off, leaving him unarmed against you and your illegally beautiful hair. "I'll pay for the—"

"I charge only for legal advice, shower is a free service." Higuruma tried to squeeze a joke out of himself but with his exhausted expression he could as well recite a random sentence out of the case he was chewing through for the whole night. "First door to the left. Ah, and sorry for the…mess."

It was a massive overestimation, he realized a few of your steps into his apartment too late. His place needed a thorough tidying like fresh water. It wasn't dirty, at least that—but everything screamed "single, overworked, and too done to bother" at anyone who paid a minimum of attention. Dust, empty mugs and beer cans, takeout boxes piled into a temporary dumpster, any flat surface littered with books, files, loose notes, newspapers… Hey, he wasn't that bad usually, but you caught him in the worst moment, right before the day booked for being a responsible adult

Hell, he should have at the very least do something about his bathroom before he let you in. But you pounced at the door faster than his thought and he had to chew on his shame with the noise of his own shower filling the awkward silence around him. 

When was the last time someone barged into his life like this? The last relationship Higuruma could call a serious one had lasted before he finished his apprenticeship. With time slipping through his hands and wallet filling with money he had eventually stopped inviting his flings to his place. And in the past few years he had extinguished even this fragile flame that kept pushing him into love hotels with equally tired participants of seminars, coworkers, and random lays he had stumbled upon in bars and never bothered to remember their names. 

He couldn't see nor hear you, nothing over the hum of water, and yet, your presence was mercilessly crawling under his skin. He felt your breath at the back of his neck as he was tidying the space around in hurry. Maybe it wouldn't have been so palpable if you were a man… But a woman in his kingdom of the mid-thirty loneliness? Something about this fact cut a good half on his year count—and not to his advantage. He never pegged himself as shy nor crude to be bothered by a fact of a woman simply existing in his proximity, but…

It had been long, too long. And you were exactly in his type.

Exhaustion played a huge role at that, he was sure of it. Exhaustion paired with neglected libido and long-forgotten fetish perking their traitorous heads up at the slightest trace of your presence. You dropped something and shivers ran up his spine so hard he almost dropped his laptop too. A faint smell of fruity cosmetics reached his nose, and he couldn't remember anymore where he should put the papers he held. The hum of the shower finally stilled, and panic bubbled under his skin, cutting him short on sight and breath for a split second—split but long enough to mess with his balance.

You caught him like this, still bent over the table, at first glance nonchalantly checking something on the phone, in fact—fighting for the last scrap of dignity left in him. 

Higuruma observed you with the corner of his eye, tense like a string. It was easier to look at you now, with your hair meticulously tucked under a towel tied around your head, so he took that risk. Little did it help. The sight of you casually standing in the middle of his apartment, bare feet, damp shirt plastered to your sides, churned his insides with yearning that had nothing to do with lewd ideas. 

Yes, it definitely had been too long since he was touched with this level of intimacy.

"Sorry for the mess," he repeated himself, his voice feeling dry at his throat. 

Your laughter suited the sharp yet sweet scent of your shower gel, filling his apartment for hours to come, "I won't look a gift shower in the plumbing. Thank you, mister—"

"Higuruma," he quickly cut in before awkwardness managed to drag you into his misery.

"Higuruma," you repeated, mimicking his accent almost to perfection. 

He loved the way his last name rolled on your tongue. He loved it so much he had to turn away for a moment and bite on his own. Thoughts dancing in his head pressed too much to his lips. But he wasn't that much of a creep to let them do as they please. Just the fact they existed was putting him into embarrassment. 

Did you notice? Most likely not, too busy balancing on one foot to pull a sock, then shoe, on the other. With a tote tugged under your armpit and in a hurry, you clearly struggled, but Higuruma didn't move from his place, mindful of his sins and the situation overall. If you needed help, you would ask, until then it would be better, if he kept this distance. 

"I know you said no money but any chance I could return a favor in any other way?" You pulled him instead into conversation, much to the panic of his tongue, tying into clumsy knots at the slightest thought of speaking.

"It's nothing." Higuruma let the dream scenario fly over his head. He wasn't sure if you were flirting or just hated the idea of being in debt and in front of uncertainty, he preferred to stand his stubborn ground.

"You let a stranger use your shower." You didn't give up. You had the ball and you insisted on rolling it despite hurry pressing at your back, it seemed.

"My impossibly cluttered shower." Years in court made him more patient than a saint, even in front of a person crumbling his resolve into dust with a single flick of eyelashes. "I'd feel bad if I asked for something in exchange for such conditions."

"And what about me? I already feel bad for cluttering your space with myself."

"If I ever find myself without water, I'll know where to go."

You rolled your eyes and laughed again, your voice sharper this time. Higuruma wasn't especially sensitive with sounds but the change of yours immediately caught his attention and craved itself into his memory.

Oh, it was bad.

Dumbfounded, he didn't react when you pounced towards his abandoned workplace and snatched a piece of paper and a pen.

"I don't have much time left so—" You scribbled fast, digging deep into the surface, and yet clear enough for him to read with ease. "I'm a regular here. Come anytime and tell them Y/N sent you. The lunch is on me."

If not for the paper on the table and scent you left all over the apartment, Higuruma would classify you as a fever dream of an all-nighter the moment you sprinted out, apologizing and saying goodbyes all at the same time. He followed almost blindly, ready to shut the door as soon as you crossed the threshold (and cut you out before any weird new thought would haunt him). He already planned to air the whole place and scrub the bathroom out of your presence

He would, no hesitation, return to his cozy loneliness if not for a draft finally crushing the fragile construction on top of your head. Cascade of hair tore the knot apart, the towel slid down your shoulders straight into his hand as he reached for it without thinking twice and before it managed to untangle fully from the wet strands. They brushed his fingers, for a split time he felt their soft texture and weight, and his heart throbbed so hard he lost a good ounce of breath right there, over the threshold. 

"Sorry and thank you! Take care, Higuruma!" The door of your apartment clicked closed before the echo of your voice disappeared. He stood there even longer, pulse beating in his ears like a drum and his cheeks burning. It felt like hours before he finally forced himself back into his place, barricaded into illusive safety, hand pressed tight to his face, to muffle a loud groan.

His skin was still slightly wet and smelled of your shampoo.

Oh, he was so done for.

He should have trashed that note.

It glared at him right from where you had left it. Higuruma hadn't dared to move it any way, himself not sure why, but instead of blending into the environment, as he was hoping, it stood out like a huge, bloody stain of shame. A reminder of what he had been praying for to be just a dream born out of exhaustion and sleepless night.

He was doing his best to not look at it. It attracted his eyes like a magnet.

In no time he knew the name and address by heart. His excellent memory, so helpful in his career, became his curse. One look in note's direction and his mind was already mapping the route. Of course, it had to be conveniently located, in the area he knew well, relatively close to his workplace, in distance perfect for a lunch break.  

If only he trashed this piece of damned paper!

Maybe then his mind wouldn't be plagued with ideas and temptation. Maybe he wouldn't have to sneak in and out of his own apartment like a thief, jerking at the slightest sound behind his back. He was leaving earlier, returning later, changing routes and shopping in a different 7-Eleven. Everything to not run into you—just to return to your scent still somehow lingering in the air. 

Higuruma was ready to swear you had somehow cursed him. Was it humanly possible to influence his life with only showering in his bathroom? The sharp and fruity scent grew stronger near the cabin, shaped in his mind like a vortex of your hair. Warm water falling on his head felt like your laughter, droplets traced down his chest and stomach like signs you wrote on the note, elegant and pronounced. 

Your name tasted sweet and heavy on his tongue. Higuruma didn't dare to say it aloud, but it lingered, a sweet aftertaste of a candy he couldn't bring himself to ask for. He still tried to weigh it, right at the tip of his tongue, slick as a feel of your wet hair slipping through his fingertips. 

Only once, he tried to put it into life, but it barely danced at the edge of his teeth and died with a miserable groan as he couldn't hold himself back any longer and spent the rest of his morning shower on furiously fucking his fist.

He should have trashed— No, burnt this note and thrown the ashes in the wind.

By the time his legs finally carried him, still against his will, to the address, Higuruma had already abandoned the idea of avoiding the problem. He wasn't quite there with an ultimate decision, but the desperation reached the level where he had to simmer it down. Giving in to temptation of seeing you again was only a reasonable decision; with some luck he would not find you there and, with a now clean conscience, he would finally get rid of the paper of shame.

Seeing the signboard took him aback. Higuruma didn't ponder over the location to expect anything, but he still froze in place, hand clenched stupid at the handle as he took a step back to look at the name again. 

It sounded like one of those modern, instagram-catered places for a quick lunch in a break from rushing through the city. It was nowhere close to what, in fact, the place was: a cat cafe, in its whole camp and overfly fluffy glory. 

Higuruma looked at the signboard, then took a peek through the window again. A fat tabby cat, loafing on a table by the sill, peeked back at him and slowly blinked. He took it as an order.

One deeper breath later he finally entered. Right by the threshold he was attacked by the suffocating, sweet scent, dangerously reminding him of the cosmetics you used in his bathroom. Panic roared at the back of his head but before he could listen and withdraw, he grabbed eye contact with a barista who had perked her head over the coffee machine.

"Good afternoon, sir." She smiled at him, as full of enthusiasm as professionalism allowed. "A table in a regular room or in a cat—"

"I have received a capias issued for a certain gentleman I found resting in your property." He said dryly, maybe a little too much as the woman's friendly expression tensed into a mix of stress and confusion. "Just joking. I'm not arresting anyone. I had this place recommended by an acquaintance of mine."

When he said your name, she immediately smiled (not without a breath of relief, he noticed) and dropped the mask of a perfect employee. He was stared at curiously now, from the tips of leather shoes to neatly composed hairstyle. Oh, he definitely was the main subject of workplace gossip—and would jump back into fashion once he left this place, no doubt in this matter. 

"My apologies, sir, Y/N mentioned you would show up but hasn't notified us when." She flashed him with a genuine smile. "You're in luck, she's stopped for a lunch today, she's in the cat room right now. Shall I—"

"I'll find my way." Higuruma quickly cut in. He wouldn't mind adding spice to the gossip, even if just to ease his own stress, but…somehow, the thought of being observed during an inevitably awkward moment churned his stomach in a very not good way. "I would like—"

He studied the menu at the blackboard. Most of the names reminded him of absolutely nothing. "Something… decadent and viral, how kids call it. Surprise me, please."

"Would you like something to eat?"

"No, thank you."

He was ordered to strip from his jacket and scarf and asked to keep his briefcase as close as possible. Barista took her sweet time to study him as she walked him to the cat room, on her way explaining in detail what was allowed and what not. Higuruma let the words fly over his head: he had no interest in tormenting poor animals (who and for what would want to pull them by their tails?), but even if he had, his plans would be undeniably ruined by your presence. He already felt his throat clenching—not in fear or panic but in the same kind of embarrassment he felt whenever his thoughts about you slipped into the direction, he'd been avoiding at all costs. All of his thoughts were decent at that moment, yet he was tense and flushed regardless. Something, from the depths of his intuition, was whispering that, no matter what he does and says, he would reveal everything that happened, in his mind and not, since the day he had seen you barefoot and with wet hair in the middle of his apartment.

It would straight up make him come across as a creep.

He didn't want to come across as a creep.

"And no apprehensions." Barista finished her lecture with a smooth joke and pulled at the door to the cat paradise.

The main part of the cafe was calm—but the cat room was even calmer and silent, no music, none of the steady hum of working machines. It was almost empty too but a small group of teenage girls, flocking around the table by a huge cat tree, and you, of course, in a cozy corner, leaning over a book. Higuruma's heart almost flipped in his chest at the sight and fluttered just harder and faster when you pulled a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. The move was slow, smooth and so sensual one would think you were doing it deliberately. 

But you were lost in thought, unaware of your surroundings and Higuruma's gaze taking in the view voraciously, straight up swallowing every inch of yours. From your face, beautiful in your calm focus, to the tips of your fingers, still tangled in the strands behind your ear—and down your back, together with the flow of loosely tied hair. 

His mouth was dry and full of saliva at the same time. A smooth starter he had prepared in a case of wonderfully bad luck just died, leaving him with tight, uncomfortable silence and head empty of thoughts, full just of the feel of the same hair against his hand. 

He hoped too that seeing you in a more presentable state would crush the intimate, inappropriate for your level of familiarity, appearance of yours he had coded. And eventually relieve him of the yearning that had nothing and everything to do with sex, all at once.

Fool, idiot, a hundred times a naive kid. Seeing you like this only made everything worse.

"Y/N! Your neighbor with a sexy nose is finally here." The barista chirped over his shoulder and bolted before neither of you both could react.

If the block in his throat was difficult to swallow before, now Higuruma could as well just suffocate and die on point.

"Higuruma!" You tried to feign a cheerful attitude, but flustered expression and sudden flap of both hands betrayed you. One of them was still tangled in your hair; you yanked it free from the ponytail and sent your ornate hair clip flying. It fell right by his feet with a little metallic thud.

"You seem to lose your head at my sight." Higuruma saw the opportunity to avoid your gaze and snatched it so fast he almost hit his head against the table. "Or I should rather say: things from your head."

His hand trembled under the weight of the little trinket. It seemed alright except for three zirconias that fell out straight into his palm, "Towel at least took it better."

You muttered a simple thanks and took the hair clip before he climbed up from his knee. Your hands met for a split moment and a sharp shock snapped up and down Higuruma's spine. 

He hoped he managed to feign his calm better than you.

The silence that followed was heavy but not awkward for a change. Higuruma found himself a new excuse to look away, subtle and polite, just right to give you space for collecting thoughts: the decor of the cat room was truly entertaining to observe. Higuruma never had a cat; he was very pleased to notice that the furniture he took at first for clutter was in fact a developed playground. Little creatures, intrigued or concerned by the noise, moved from their spots. Shelves, ottomans and line bridges fluttered with elegant steps and soft tapping of little paws.

Even the fat tabby turned its head and gave Higuruma a look full of pity.

"It doesn't click right," you finally broke the much needed pause, pulling his attention back to you. "Oh well. I really liked it."

"It is a pity." He agreed, somehow keeping voice in check. The last thing he wanted was to suddenly screech at you. Fate knows how much his throat tried to, though. "It really suited your hair."

He didn't get a good look at it but after so many thoughts recalling your hair in detail, Higuruma could easily imagine it from every angle. His cheeks filled with traitorous, familiar heat. At least he wasn't prone to blushing.

By the gleam in your eyes, he could tell you were about to pick up the flirting, but you were interrupted by the barista. Looks were exchanged over his head, a slight tick at the corner of your lips betrayed their nature, but his attention was instead pulled by a piece of latte art put in front of him.

They really took his request to their hearts. Milk foam on top of his coffee was piled into a chubby cat face. They went as far as adding eyes, nose, whiskers and a little cunning smile. Three stripes at the top of its head must have been made with coffee as a paint. He had to admit the dedication to detail was truly endearing.

"Oh. That's surprising." You hummed, more to yourself, but continued louder prompted by his furrowing eyebrows. "You don't look like someone who would order a cute latte."

"Oh? And how do I look?"

"Black coffee. No sugar."

"I like it very sweet, actually." Higuruma finally felt more at ease, tension melting down his shoulders so visibly he could swear it was happening literally. "With a dash of milk."

The first few sentences were always the worst, in law and flirting alike. Once he got a good grip of the situation, he could finally focus on the exchange only. You were a cunning conversation partner, fast to catch his jokes, smooth to follow the thread and bounce the ball back at him. You had quite a gamut of shared topics and he just kept growing more interested—no, fascinated. 

Your mind and soul were fitting his type even more accurate than your appearance.

And yet, Higuruma's thoughts kept bouncing back to the fateful morning, to the perfection of your body in its messy glory. He couldn't help but to compare all the time. A strip of your tattoo peeked from under your sleeve—and he knew how far it, in fact, reached. A contour of your bra was visible under your shirt—in almost the same place where wet spots had pressed since you had dried yourself in a rush. Your hair fell smooth over your shoulders, in heavy strands he was dying for to caress—because he remembered the sensation of their ends touching his skin. 

Over and over again, his flesh was taking over his mind. And it was…infuriating.

When something touched his calf, Higuruma nearly jolted. He managed to forget a little how tense he still was, illusion destroyed fast by a friendly tail, wrapping around his leg. 

The indifferent stare and chunky posture were already familiar.

"Oh, someone likes you." You cooed with a bright smile. "It's rare for Haru to come to a new client."

"She's being picky?" The lawyer leaned down, let the curious cat sniff his fingers before he gently caressed its head.

"He. He's a little fussy diva. Wait, maybe I'll encourage him a little—" 

You leaned to the side and behind to reach for a toy, move quite fast, and your hair repeated the vortex he had seen even before he had taken a look at your face. The almost painful churning in Higuruma's stomach rushed dangerously low; he coughed into fist to give a reason for leaning forwards. Haru snapped his head back at the noise, but instead of running away he leaped into the lawyer's lap, fitting tight the space between his torso and thighs. And successfully hiding the area that could become problematic at any moment.

"Thanks, buddy," Higuruma whispered and scratched him behind the ear.

"He really likes you." You laughed, by no means offended for your sneaky plan to fail before it had started. "You're so natural with cats."

"It's only one of my talents." He flicked his gaze at you, his hand resting full on the cat's head, deliberately swept along the line of its spine. "Been always told I'm good with my hands."

The risk was exceptionally calculated, even for him. But it paid off with sparks of interest flickering in your eyes and fast, so easy to miss, bite at the side of your bottom lip.

The note had been replaced by a hair clip.

Higuruma hadn't even thought twice when he had sprinted out of work straight to a jeweler. His mind and soul had been in a different place, entranced by your number freshly saved on his phone, and hadn't perked up even at the significant amount of money he had spent on a golden clip. 

The coincidence had been too good to be just a wink of fate: the design was almost identical to your old one.

Complications had appeared after he had come back and grabbed much deserved sleep. Fresh brain had pushed the old scruples back to the surface, and the would-be gift had ended on the kitchen table, leering at Higuruma as he was sneaking by, in shame and trying to look away.

Since the cat cafe date, you had met at least five times. All meetings had been rather non-committal and platonic, and the closest he got to fulfilling his fantasies had been a gentle kiss on his cheek he had earned after a movie. Yet, Higuruma knew there was a prominent spark of interest on your side. So far you had answered all of his advances with eagerness if not straight forward had been playing with him as if he was a cat on the other end of a teasing wand.

He was still feeling ashamed of himself but didn't intend to let such an opportunity slip through his hands. All he needed was that last step…but he couldn't quite grow spine to finally make it.

So the hair clip kept glaring at him, and he kept ignoring it, as much as he could at least before he was caving in to all those temptations leading him to late night shower fantasies.

By the time he heard you ringing to his door he even managed to forget about it a little. Well, he was deep in work again, his mind finally free of all red-hot thoughts and quandaries—until said sound pierced him like a stray bullet. He knew immediately it was you; he couldn't explain why and how but he knew. The rush of blood thudding in his ears for once had nothing to do with anxiety—this time it was a genuine excitement, hope even, if he dared to somewhat name the vortex of his thoughts. This was but just a little change; it meant nothing for heat building in his cheek nor for trembling of hands he barely tamed on his way to the door.

Before he opened, he had to take a deep, hopefully calming breath.

"This is gonna be awkward again." You admitted with a shy smile. "There's no heating at my place. And no warm water. "

Your appearance was a stunning middle ground between the scrupulously crafted look you donned for your little dates and the casual home-only mess Higuruma had learnt the day you got to talk for the first time. You were still dressed neatly but disarray had already sneaked with crumpled fabric, rolled up sleeves and the mess of your hair, barely tamed with a hair band. 

A loose strand fell out of it, and you tugged it behind your ear, with the same smooth, sensual move he had learnt by heart. Higuruma swallowed, a bit too audibly for his comfort.

"I can offer warm tea and warm company," he moved to the side and gestured towards the apartment. At least this time the mess was more tamed; since he had been caught red-handed, he paid more attention to the state of his surroundings. 

It couldn't possibly be a more obvious excuse, but Higuruma's thoughts were speeding too fast to do something more than taking a mental note. He intended to guide you towards the living room, but you took your guest rights to the fullest and chose a seat by the table in the kitchen from where you were piercing him with a curious gaze. In a calmer state Higuruma would pay more attention and take note how strategic your move was—but he was too busy masking his stress by preparing the tea and snacks. Before the doorbell, at least a shadow of the hair clip had existed at the back of his head. Now the whole trace was gone, replaced by all his dreams and worries packed into a single vortex of inner and somewhat controlled panic.

Why was he so nervous? He had no reason to delve into his thoughts anymore. All that was left was one of you finally tugging the rope to their side. You were right there, behind his back, twisting a strand of your hair around your finger, legs crossed just right to roll your dress up your thighs a little. Part of him was itching to turn and pull you into his arms, to bury his face into the back of your neck, to trace your tattoos and check how far they really reach. The other kept spraying the horny demon in him with cold water—and by far winning at that time.

If only you gave him a little more prominent sign…

"A hair clip?" As if reading his mind, you sprung forwards. "It looks like mine… Where did you get it?"

Higuruma almost dropped the cups with tea.

"Oh. That." He had never been blessed his experience with stress-taming than he did now. He needed only a single breath to look presentable again. "Well… Now it's my turn at the awkward merry-go-round. Was supposed to be a gift."

He set your cup in front of you, his hand almost free of trembling. Your gaze grazed over it for a second before it flicked back to the accessory, by "chance" placed right within your sight but out of reach, "Gift?"

"Replacement for the one I broke." Higuruma had no choice but to grab it himself and offer it to you on open palm. "I plead guilty and have already paid a fine."

You said nothing but he could read from your face his choice was simply perfect. You gently traced its edge, almost took it, but at the last time you withdrew, your eyes full of sultry gleam. "Thank you. It's so pretty. But you shouldn't have—"

"Oh, I should. And I loved it." Higuruma already knew where it was going. He felt sweat pearling at his temples, a single droplet traced down the side of his face. "It's but a pleasure to offer beautiful things to a beautiful woman."

You traced the clip again, with more prominent pressure this time, such a perfectly feigned hesitation. 

"Then…" Your gaze wandered up and locked with his. "Would you like to clip it in?"

Higuruma's knees nearly gave up under him when you, no longer waiting for his answer, let your hair flow free. With a single shake of your head, you spilled it all over your shoulders for him to gather it again, smile dancing at the corners of your lips a shameless proof you knew exactly what you were doing. 

Were his thoughts that obvious? Were his sinful dreams written all over his face? Was he being pulled into a trap from the very beginning? 

As if entranced, Higuruma approached you from behind. Even with explicit permission he was more than gentle when he caressed your hair from the crown of your head to its tips. It was smooth like velvet, far more than he had imagined it to be after the brief contact. 

The flame inside him churned and roared, pulse thudding in his ears muffled down all the other sounds. Hands shaking, he started gathering your hair to the back, into a single, thick thread he tried to hold firmly for the clip. He feared to tug too much; if he slipped once, he knew he wouldn't stop, the loose yet so heavy knot around his fingers just waiting to be tightened.

In the wildest fantasies flowing through his dreams Higuruma hadn't considered it to feel so good, almost too good to be real.

He couldn't hold it for longer, he let go, watched your hair spill again in awe, his throat dry and clenched. Threading fingers through it, he reached deeper, brushing at your scalp, and noting, pleased, a low, purr-like sound you made. Entrancing smoothness pulled him yet again, though, and he combed the strands to their tips, and returned to the crown of your head, over and over and one more time, and more—

"You don't have to be so gentle," you hummed, arching into his touch with no trace of shame. "I quite like it pulled."

Higuruma swallowed the hook together with the rod.

He gathered your hair into his fist, wrapped it around, and slowly—but with prominent power—pulled your head to the side, exposing your neck to himself. You mewled, following the move without further encouragement, giving him better access in the most arched, sweetest way possible. He leaned closer, his lips an inch away from your skin as he soaked in the familiar, sweet, intimate scent. The choice between possible routes was hard but eventually he settled on the most shameless one. He kissed your ear, brushed his lips right under it, and dived straight into the source of the fire burning him through all this time, through weeks that felt like ages. 

The softness of your hair was even more intoxicating when Higuruma felt it against his face. The first tasting nudge found your approval, so he went for a shaky, almost desperate breath of your scent, so rich and so throughout yours. It was a sin to abandon it, but he knew he had to discover more—or else the doors to the forbidden garden might push him away and shut closed. Shaking and almost sobbing in immense pleasure and happiness, the lawyer trailed his kisses back to your neck, then down to the curve of your shoulder until he felt the seam of your dress under his lips. 

"Hiromi…" You pleaded in whisper, for the first time calling him by his name. "Kiss me…"

Hand still tight in your hair, Higuruma tilted your head stronger to the side and leaned over your shoulder. Your noses brushed awkwardly before he finally found your lips. He expected it to be slow, just a little peck for a starter, but you apparently just waited for it. You grabbed him by the tie and pulled, your tongue slipping into his mouth without a warning nor hesitation. He let you take the lead at first but soon your advances weren't quite enough for his voracity, and he answered you with even greater eagerness.

It was his first kiss in so long and one of the very few so intense. You were barely stopping for a breath, one immediately pulling the other back when it halted. Higuruma's head was spinning, from lack of air and overflow of emotions. His heart was beating so fast that he danced on the line of fainting right in front of you, no wonder you guided him as you liked despite his hand clenched in your hair and kisses swallowing your breath.

You stood up and pushed him against the table, finally giving the both of you much deserved break and freeing each other of the tight clutch of your hands. 

"Lemme," you nipped at his ear shortly after. 

Gasping for air, Higuruma watched your advances with fascination. You unbuttoned his shirt with a casual knack and pawed at his hairy chest, trailing down the dark line towards the hem of his pants. Part of him was relieved to have his hard, almost painful, erection finally freed—the other dusted his cheeks with embarrassment. So fast and so easily… He wasn't a teenager anymore, his desperation was almost shameful.

Little did you care, almost shaking yourself when you fell to your knees and peeled his pants and underwear out of your way. You licked your lips at the sight of his hard, throbbing cock, and wrapped fingers around it. A few testing strokes later, you brushed a droplet of precum off his tip with a thumb, then leaned for a little, almost cute kiss.

"Shit…" Higuruma muttered through clenched teeth. For once forgetting about your hair, he held on to the table for his dear life and focused on not cumming right on spot. Unaware of his fight, you continued with teasing kisses and kitty licks towards the base. With the tip of your tongue teasing the sensitive skin of his balls you almost sent him flying; to stop orgasm from coming he bit his lip so hard he almost cut it to blood.

"So full…" You cooed, unawares of his struggle. Higuruma didn't dare to look at you—a futile effort as he could easily imagine what you were doing just by the feel of your lips and tongue at work.

"It's been… A while— Fuck!" As if it would help him if he held his breath and closed his eyes. Your mouth was so wet and hot and sucked him off with such fervor he was ready to beg you to slow down. It was illegal for a simple blowjob to feel so good; was it your skill or his desperation, all of it mixed with the tension building up relentlessly through the last few weeks—it didn't matter. Various thoughts were speeding through his mind, but he quite literally had no power to process them. 

Higuruma mewled your name, a pitiful whimpering sound that clenched his chest with almost painful embarrassment. He felt your approving hum vibrating around his cock as you slid him into your throat, until you reached a depth comfortable for you, and started bobbing your head along his length. His imagination reached its peak of capability, drowned into comfortable darkness he desperately tried to enforce on his poor, tortured brain. So slick and hot, so tight when you hollowed your cheeks and sucked, balancing right on the thin line between ineffable pleasure and discomfort.

You were on a mission to suck him dry—and he had no power (nor desire) to oppose you.

Yet, with the tension relentlessly building and nearing its peak, Higuruma put every ounce of his might left and peeled one hand off the table to immediately tangle it in your hair. You chirped, pleased, around his cock, clearly expecting a pull towards—not backwards. Eyes wide open and dark with desire, you gazed at him with upper confusion. You didn't even close your lips, a string of saliva still connected them with the tip of his dick.

"N-not like that…" The lawyer managed to choke out between desperate draughts for air. "I want—"

Thank goodness you read his mind like an open book. Otherwise, he would stutter there to the kingdom come and back, like a dazed idiot he was.

"Bed?" You nuzzled your head into his palm. The temptation to pull grew stronger again, so strong that Higuruma's cock twitched just at the thought. He quickly withdrew, brushed his fingers down your face to wipe saliva off your lips and chin. At the desired level he hesitated—and brushed a little string of drool back into your mouth and deeper. If you were surprised, you hadn't showed it, instead opening wider for him and swirling your sinful tongue around his digits.

A wild idea crossed his mind, a kink he had tried with one of his past partners but hadn't quite brought it back until now as he was fucking your mouth with his fingers and staring at your drool pooling inside and dripping down your chin, first droplets falling on the front of your dress. He didn't dare to say it but a move, expression or the whole situation must have betrayed him yet again. 

You pierced him with an understanding gaze and nodded.

Higuruma slowly withdrew his fingers and grabbed your chin, soon tilting your head back. With his throat so dry it took him quite a moment to gather enough drool, but you waited oh so patiently, your eyes closed and your hair flowing down your head with the heave of your heavy breathing. 

He leaned down and let his spit slowly drip down from the tip of his tongue, straight into your wide open, waiting mouth. Your whole body trembled and a little mewl broke through your lips as you let it slide down your throat.

"Such a good girl…" The guttural, heavy with desire voice that got out of his throat surprised even him. "Swallowing everything for me…"

He did it two more times before he couldn't find more spit to share. Instead, he returned to torture you with his fingers, playing with your tongue and testing how far he can reach before you gag around them. With great pleasure he was surprised to not find this moment despite trying really hard.

"If you're gonna torture me like this—" You warned with an impish gleam in your eyes as soon as he gave you a break. "—I won't hold it for longer and make you cum with my mouth."

Higuruma leaned against the table and cooled his head down with a few deep breaths.

"Bed," he agreed with the unanswered question of yours and helped you get up.

Yet again you took the lead and straight up herded him to his bedroom. When and how you figured which was the right door, he had no idea, but he also didn't ponder over this fact too much, too busy with not tripping while kicking his pants out of the way. You both fumbled at the threshold, tangled in clothes you desperately tried to get rid of while kissing each other blindly, until the lawyer finally found an upper hand and pushed you inside and then on top of the bed. 

You started rolling the dress up, but Higuruma shoved your hand out of the way and reached beneath you for the zipper. It gave up so easily he worried for a moment he broke something, but you just graciously wiggled out, freeing your shoulders and breasts. The sight messed with his momentum, a heavy lump stuck at his throat, and he had to close eyes for a moment to not cum on the spot.

You finished rolling your dress down your hips and snapped your legs open with great impatience, "What, have you changed your mind?"

Higuruma cursed under breath, wiped his face with both hands—and immediately dove for it much like a bird of prey. Avoiding the temptation of your hair at all costs, he focused on your tattoos instead, tracing them with his tongue and kissing. He had no idea you had so many of them, in so many interesting places he was dying to explore and to cover with hungry hickeys. 

But he was also aware of the burning hard problem below his waist, so he didn't waste a droplet of time. He reached straight between your legs, hummed at the feel of soft bush brushing against his fingers and spread your labia open.

"So wet for me, baby girl?" He breathed against one of your nipples before sucking on it with fervor. 

A needy mewl was your answer as you bucked your hips, trying to steal friction from his palm. He didn't hesitate from giving you all you wanted, two fingers sliding into you at once. Just the squelching tight sensation was enough for a wave of pleasure to crush against him; with a whimper Higuruma thrusted dry against your side, staining your skin with precum.

"Fuck, you're so sexy…" His voice was breaking with desperation, but he kept a reasonable pace with stretching you. Your tightness was so hot and intoxicating, but he worried he could hurt you if he hurried the matters too much. If he made a mess and embarrassment out of himself because of it, he would take it, as long as you hadn't felt any unwanted pain. 

You read him right yet again and grabbed him by wrist, "I'm ready."

His next move hadn't met the same patience as you whined when he left you on the bed to look for condoms in the drawer.

"It's okay, I'm on pills." You pulled him back by the hem of his shirt and slid it away a moment later, leaving him completely naked. 

Clawing at his shoulders you kept nudging him until he was back in his place, teeth grazing at your neck. You fumbled in sheets warming each other up and experimenting for the last time before the main event, both of you growing impatient beyond tolerance. 

"How do you want it?" Higuruma rasped into your ear and bit at its shell. His cock throbbed with warning at the sweet mewl of yours; he knew he wouldn't last much longer if he kept edging himself.

"You can be rough," you whined without a hesitation as he pushed himself on top of you again. "I'll just tell you to stop, if needed. And hair—"

"Got you."

He pressed a quick kiss to your lips and gave you space to roll on your stomach and climb on your knees. He tried to not stare too much, just a glimpse of your ass arching for him, your hips swaying with invitation, put his blood pressure to alarming limits. Lining himself up at the best angle he could find, Higuruma kneeled between your legs and kneaded your cheeks. He loved how his fingers dipped into your soft flesh, but he didn't quite have enough time to appreciate everything you had to offer.

"Hair," you reminded him, looking over your shoulder at him with such heat in your eyes that a harsh shiver ran down his spine.

"I got you, my sweet girl." Higuruma leaned over your back and kissed the nape of your neck before taking a fist full of your hair. He hadn't pulled on it just yet, waited for the perfect moment when his cock slid into you and nestled comfy between your slick, tight walls.

He needed a break again, an inch away from an early finish. He kept the fire simmering by peppering you with bites and kisses, the grip on your hair kept satisfyingly strained until he felt he could move freely. 

A single deep and shaky breath later Higuruma finally rose straight to his knees, pulling you with himself until you arched your back and mewled. A tinge of pain was audible in your voice, but your cunt fluttered around his cock, and you hadn't said anything, so he followed with the plan, trusting your words from a moment earlier.

"F-fuck…" He muttered as he bottomed out, hips pressed flush to your ass. "Such a good girl you are…"

You stated your limits clearly, but Higuruma didn't want to test his luck. The grip on your hair was more than enough to satisfy his wilder side—and still he refrained from yanking your head too much. Just enough to have your back tense like a string as you were taking each one of his deep, desperate thrusts. More out of curiosity than anything he smacked your ass with a juicy slap, the sight of your body rippling from the impact so powerful he had to slow down and wait through another dangerous close call.

"Hi… ro…" You struggled to call for him, one hand clawing at sheets, the other between your legs as you played with your clit. He clenched his teeth and spanked you again. You responded with loud and enthusiastic moans, the best music he heard in a long, long while.

The finish was really close. Higuruma's hand clenched hard on your hip, maybe even bruising you in process, but then his focus narrowed to your union only and its unbearably hot, slick sensation that kept swallowing him. All he needed was your high first; he didn't want to go there without satisfying you at least this much. Your sweet sounds and trembling body were giving him good guidance—and he kept repeating what he was doing until the tight knot in your abdomen finally snapped and you spasmed in his hold, the tight clench of your pussy sparking friction almost too intense for him.

It didn't take long for him to finish too; a few erratic thrusts later he spilled his seed deep in you and collapsed on top of you, pressing you tight to the mattress.

Catching on breath, almost blind from exertion, Higuruma kissed your neck right under the hairline and buried his nose at the back of your head. You didn't make any sound under him, and he worried he might have pressed you too hard—but as soon as he shifted his weight to side, you budged and protested with a weak mewl.

"Stay." You reached behind and threaded fingers through his hair. He shivered under the gentle touch, almost literally melting when you kept scratching at his scalp and playing with his sweaty strands. 

"I'm staying," he promised and nuzzled close, flush against your back, cock still nestled deep in you. Frankly, even if he wanted, he didn't have much power left, just enough to roll to the side and collapse there for good. But he loved the intimacy of this moment even more than sex before, the warmth of your body, the rhythm of your pulse, the smell of your sweat covering your skin with a thin, sticky layer.

"Fuck, I think we need a shower." He mumbled to himself and chuckled, sure you had snoozed in his arms, but you answered the laughter and reached for his hand.

Higuruma gladly intertwined fingers with yours.

"I'd love to see your shower again." You kissed his knuckles, a smile pressed to your lips. 

[sunny-mercya]

Sensitive Heart

Poly! Billy Loomis & Stu Macher x Male Reader

Fandom -> Scream 1996

Requested by -> Anon

Masterlist

Sidney had become quick to learn, that you're a rather sensible—if not even overstimulated sensitive—boy.

Most things; be it a large crowd, people accidentally bumping into you or someone saying something you had difficulty to understand—hell, even the most mundane compliment; you look really good today—brought you to tears.

And on some days, wether if they are bad or good ones, you would cry for an eternality of hours—exhausting yourself with a sore throat sobbing.

Throughout the school years, you had spend more time in the nursery office thanks to this—whatever and however it's called, Sidney doesn't bother to remember—than being actually injured.

Tatum, who had heard from Stacy—and she had it being told from Mackenzie, who had gotten told it from Helena—the nurses daughter—told Sidney once, that your over sensitivity of personality has been coming from your mother.

Your mother who had pampered you into a suffocating and constant anxious panic. She was a kind soul, with her off shrugging absently affectionate, but treating you well still.

Although, when you were at the age of ten—having been in the hospital again, because of your mother—your father had enough, filled a divorce and complete custody over you and told his ex-wife to leave.

So now, Sidney had to endure your tears filled stuttering jumble of words while accompanying you, yet again, to the nurse office.

Please god, she thought, end me. Holding back a groan, simply nodding along to what you're trying to say. If she's telling you to shut up, you would probably cry a flood then.

~~~

The cold wet washcloth always felt good over your burning irritated eyes. Cooling them off and bringing a sort of pain relief to them.

Mrs. Westbrock had left the office, after assessing you down onto the bed and giving you a glass of water and headache-pills. Nothing new, a normal occurrence for you to be alone—till school hours ended—in the nurse office, when you had another rather server breakdown episode. Then again, every episode brought you to the office.

»Aww, at this point you should ask the Director to let you live rent-free here« Stu did his best to lower his voice, when stepping in. Knowing well how headache prone you would get and he also knows how loud his voice can be.

It must be lunch break or a free period or study all, otherwise Billy and Stu wouldn't be able to visit you. Then again, you wouldn't put it pass them to just skip a lesson or two—and you knew they had done already more than once.

»What was it this time babe?« asked Billy, sitting down onto the chair. Someone would say his tone, when asking you this question, is coming off as annoyed, rude and tutting. It wasn't. It was Billys way of asking you how you are and what the cause was.

You shrugged at him, rubbing your eyes and sitting up a bit—letting Stu prep kisses onto your face.

»I.....don't really remember anymore.«

Billy hummed, knowing well it was lie of you, watching you and Stu, the both of you conserving now over some Cartoon.

»Did Jules brought you here?«

»Nu-uh, it was Sydney,«

Billy nodded, they all were somewhat friends with Sidney, though somehow she always seemed to be irritated annoyed by your mere presence—not that you took notice if it, always busy to greet everyone happily, even when it was hard to do for you.

»[Name]. Tell us, what made you cry.« a bit demanding harsh he sounded, but how would he know if Billy didn't use a dominant force to bring you to speak.

»It, it–it was, someone talked about–about how killing is, is–is something and I got upset over it, because they talked so causally about it, but killing is–is–is bad and taking–taking a humans life is cruel«

You broke into another, new, round of tears. Sobbing into Stu's arms, who cooed at you lovely and giving you sloppy kisses on the cheeks again.

Oh, how innocent sweet you are. Thinking so naively and thoughtful about the world. Aren't you adorable?

~~~

It was weeks after, when Sidney came to the conclusion that the ominous masked—dubbed as Ghostface—killer, who tried to killer her, is Billy Loomis.

Sidney, when she got the chance, pulled you into an empty classroom, cornering you. Doing her best to look as threatening as she could, to make you confess.

She always found it strange how Billy (and Stu) could love someone like you—someone who's a crybaby, skittish and meek in personality. Too Sensitive for a boy to be.

But then she thought, you're the perfect alibi for Billy or perhaps even someone who knows that Billy is the murder.

»You know Billy is the killer, don't you [Name]?«

»What? What are you talking about Syd?«

»It's Sidney. Billy is the killer and you're either good at pretending to play clueless dumb, which you are though, or you're his partner. There aren't any other options.«

Sidney hated it how you pronounced her name so dumbly wrong. It's a simple name, how hard could it be to say it right? Apparently hard enough for you.

»Accusing someone, a friend even, of something so horrific is a cruel thing to do.«

»Oh? I didn't knew you could speak english without stuttering in sobbing.«

Your lips begun to wobble, biting softly onto them to stop the starting trembling—which would soon racked through your whole body. Eyes getting wet, tears ready to spill.

Sidney had no rights to accuse Billy like this and neither had she the right to be this mean to you. You hadn't done anything to make her upset, so why does she say such things?

She clicked her tongue in annoyance, gripping your arm tight when you were about to bold off.

»We both know I'm right. Whether you like it or not.«

You freed yourself from her, jerking your arm out of her grasp and bolting out of the room. At some point colliding with Jules, who was looking for you, scrambling up again and running even faster away.

A lie. It's a complete conspiracy bullshitting lie, what Sidney had said to you. It wasn't true, Billy isn't a killer.

~~~

»I'm home!« greeted Billy once he had open the front door and stepped in, closing if afterwards. Getting out of his jacket and hanging it up on, he made his way towards the kitchen.

Leaning against the frame of the kitchen-door, Billy watched you, smiling at the sight of you cooking today's lunch—dancing slightly to the music which the radio plays.

»You need help, darling?« he admits, spooking you up like this was—the way how you jerked together into surprise—always a fun thing to do.

»Oh, Billy! How was work? Sure sure, you can set the table and please get Stu« you pecked his lips, when he leaned down, snatching a piece of bacon from the cutting board.

»Where is he?«

»Upstairs, doing the laundry.« you had long returned to the cooking, resuming with what you had stopped.

Billy passed through the living room, stopping at the commode in the hallway, next to the stairs.

Photo frames over photos frames filled the commode, telling their own stories—from their graduation, first house, to marriage, to their honeymoon and then to their Kids and their first kindergarten and school day to the here and now.

There was one photo in particular, which both Stu and him are very found of. It still confuses the kids, who couldn't figure out why a photo of you crying was a found memory to keep and share.

To the kids they had told a story of how they always found it adorable, just how bunny like you were and wanted to capture the moment.

In truth though, it was the moment when the broke you—your spirit of will—and had you forever to love.

It was after Sidney had inflicted your pure heart with self-doubt and questionable unbelief towards Billy. You confronted him, breaking out in hysterical when Billy bluntly admits it with a shrug and when you were about to call the police—Stu stepped in, holding you tight in his arms as you trashed in his hold and shouting words at them you never wished to say again.

They had to break a few of your bones, scaring and threatening you completely in submissive—because if they don't, you wouldn't be able to continue with going to school with them and enjoy life, if they didn't had done it this way—they had to kill you and that would be a shame. After all you're their precious little darling.

It took a few years—after framing someone else for their killings and making Sidney an implausible witness in the polices eyes—to shape you into what your are now; a good submissive husband, who showers them in unconditionally love.

»[Name]'s adorable, isn't he Bills?« Stu trotted down the stairs, flashing a grin at Billy.

»You're right, he really is. I was just about to get you, laundry-boy«

»Funny, man. Urgh, my back hurts. I never do laundry again«

After lunch, when the kids had retired into their rooms or going out to spend time with friends. You and your husbands sat on the couch, cuddling against another and watching another round of romance movies.

Even after all these years, you couldn't stop your sensitivity and the spilling tears from your eyes.

Billy and Stu wouldn't have it any other way. They adored you how you are, in their eyes you're perfect.

»Have I told you, just how–how much I love–love you two?« you asked them in between sobs, romantic movies always made you so moody.

»You do plenty of times, precious. We love you just as much in return.«

Both Billy and Stu pressed a kiss against your lips, tasting your salty tears.

You're their little bunny.

[actualbird]

for funsies, i made a timeline of luke's past (aka everything notable Before main story route/personal route timeline divergence fuckery)

some interesting things i noticed while i was making this

i checked, and there really is no instance in canon where it was mentioned exactly how old luke was when his parents died. the closest thing i had to a clue was the general sentiment that they died when he was young enough that he didnt have many memories of them. however, that could still be any young age because 1) idk abt you but i barely remember anything earlier than the age of 10, and 2) there is a possibility that luke blocked off those memories due to the trauma of loss and grief

the duration of time between when he arrived in central and when he got recruited to the NSB is not specified but all references i found of the events imply that they happened VERY CLOSE TO EACH OTHER, LIKE, SHORTLY, PROMPTLY. meaning luke was 16 when he was recruited. Pain. that is Just A Boy

there's probably a way to reverse-math-equation what year the Toxic Gas Incident and Luke Acquiring His Illness happened, but im not smart enough to count. however, given the nature of his illness, those events mustve happened somewhat close to his return to stellis, because he wasnt given that long of a lifespan prognosis after he acquired his illness

there is an unidentified amount of time where luke had already returned to stellis but did NOT reunite with MC. this is referenced in SR A Star in The Palm (and again later on in a recently released CN server card), but it's not mentioned anywhere exactly how much time he spent hiding from her. my guess was that it was a few months, maybe

conclusion: man, luke's late teens to early twenties were horrible. he shouldve been at the club

[snapscube]

I'm curious what the rules on erotic and NSFW content would be considering the 18+ age gate. Almost all of the art I make is SFW but not always, and it can be disheartening when so many servers, even 18+ ones, disallow it. That being said I also know that NSFW stuff can be trickier to moderate, so just having a general rule against it makes a lot of sense. Apologies if this question is uncomfortable in any way.

Directly NSFW content will not be allowed, sorry! Obviously if everyone is gonna be assumed adults in the space then yknow some leeway is given regarding risque discussion within reason but for general community safety as well as my own comfort I just can't see a reason to not have a hard line on that. Especially since there's really not much correlation with what ACTUALLY goes on in my content haha. Generally in recent years when it comes to community moderation and personal boundaries w/ my audience I have tried my best to take an "if someone could potentially make this a Problem for me and ruin the vibes, assume they will" approach and prepare accordingly. It may sound somewhat paranoid but truly in my years of experience both being fucked with and personally fucking up, there's no better way to do it imo.

[whimsiwitchy]

I hear the secrets that you keep (series)

chapter three: you make me nervous

Pedro Pascal x F!reader 

series masterlist

series summary: 24 year old y/n is an insecure and struggling actress in Los Angeles until she finally books a leading role in a big Hollywood movie next to her leading male, Pedro Pascal. A spark of friendship flickers between the two and slowly begins to blossom into something more. As y/n is navigating a new found fame and a new found romance, she fears that a lie she has been sitting on might ruin everything.

Warnings: plus size reader (no specific description of reader, slight descriptions of weight: stomach fat, stretch marks, etc.), hefty age gap (24 years/14 years), female anatomy description, she/her pronouns, use of gendered terms (girl, girly, etc.), y/n used, descriptions of nudity, swearing,  use of the word fat, warnings may change as the story progresses. 

authors note: Hi everyone. I just posted chapter two a few hours ago but my mind was buzzing with ideas lol. This chapter has a lot of awkward energy so I apologize in advance. Enjoy <3

chapter summary: y/n attends the table read for Risky Disco and gets to know Pedro. 

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

The week leading up to the table read seemed to drag on. Even though you kept yourself busy, it was like every time you looked at a clock, it ticked slower and slower. You were somewhat grateful for the delay as it gave you more time to prepare yourself for your first day working on Risky Disco. Not only did it delay your first day of work, it also delayed having to see Pedro again. You felt so silly. One ten minute interaction was invading your entire nervous system. To prepare yourself to see him again, you started watching interviews and clips of him acting. You wanted to know what his personality was like so you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself when you two are bound to cross paths fairly soon. Whenever you weren’t working your server job, you were reading through your script or watching videos on Pedro. You felt kind of weird finding out things about him when he would know nothing about you, but hey that’s the price of fame right? People knowing things about someone without that person knowing anything about them. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The table read was set to start at 9am. So naturally, you were up at 5am to get ready for the day. You took a quick shower and started to decide what to wear. Trying to keep comfort in mind, you scanned your closet for an outfit. Table reads usually include a lot of sitting so you knew you didn’t want to wear anything too tight around your stomach. You hated when you sat and your jeans would dig into your stomach or when your ‘baggy’ jeans tightened around your thigh when it flattened against whatever you were sitting on. You really wanted to look as cute as possible though, for yourself of course, not for anyone else…

You decided to wear a pair of sheer black pantyhose, with black shorts pulled over them, accompanied by a simple black v neck long sleeve shirt. For shoes you wore your trusty pair of classic docs. Once you were dressed, you worked on your hair and makeup, keeping it fairly simple. Looking at the time, it was now 7am. You made a quick breakfast and drank a cup of coffee. After you finished eating, you grabbed a tote bag and filled it with all of your essentials: your script, chapstick, lipstick, perfume, deodorant, and wallet. You then filled up your reusable water bottle, grabbed your keys and made your way out of the door. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The table read was taking place in the same building as the audition, making it a lot easier to find where to go and park. After parking your car, it was 8:30. You decided to go ahead and go inside. When you walked in, you spoke to a receptionist who told you what room to go to. As you neared the room, you realized that you were the first person here and for some reason that was embarrassing for you. Instead of going in, you lingered near the door and tried to look busy on your phone. After five minutes of opening and closing different apps, you heard someone walking down the hallway. You kept your head down and pretended to text someone so you didn’t look like such a loser. 

“Hey, y/n right?” 

Your entire body tensed up, you know that voice. You know that voice a little too well after all of your ‘research’. 

“I’m Pedro, I read lines with you during your audition.” You finally looked up and you almost let out a gasp. He was wearing a pair of light denim jeans, a basic black t-shirt, and a leather jacket. You let your eyes meet his and you saw that he also sported a baseball style cap with a pair of glasses. In conclusion, he looked good. Too fucking good. 

“Oh yeah that’s me. Hi, it’s nice to actually meet you.” You let out the words better than you thought you would. He gives you a smile and raises his hand to offer a handshake. You reach out and latch your hand to his. His hand was soft yet rough at the same time and it engulfed yours in a perfect way. You both let go and stand in silence for a moment. 

“So, just us so far?” he asked as he looked around. “Yea, I guess so. I feel like such a weenie getting here so early.” You cringed at your choice of words but Pedro let out a laugh. “Well, I definitely wouldn’t say you're a weenie.” he said with emphasis on the word ‘weenie’. “You’re professional, early is good.” You gave him a thankful smile. “I had this theater teacher that would hound us for not being on time. She would always say ‘early is on time and- ""-and on time is late.” he finishes the phrase for you and the two of you both let out a small laugh. “You hear that a lot in the acting world. Yet no one seems to follow it.” He says while looked down at his phone to check the time. 

Silence falls over you two and you start fidgeting with your fingers as a distraction. “Hey, why don’t we go ahead and sit down. We can show off our skills of being on time to all of the late weenies.” He smiles and you laugh at his use of weenie again. Pedro opens the door for you and you let out a quick thank you. As you walk in, you see a large table with name tags in front of each chair. You glance around the table, searching for your name. Once you found it, you made your way to your chair and Pedro took a seat right next to you. 

He was so close to you and it was too intense. First he comes in looking like sex on legs, now he’s sitting only a few inches away from you. He smells so good. You wish you could just- “You don’t walk much do you?” he asked as he turned to look at you. You do the same. “Sorry, I don’t want you to think I don’t want to talk to you. I do. I just get weird around new people and don’t really know how to act and I just have horrible people skills in general sometimes. You also kind of make me really nervous.” You shut up and quickly turn to face forward with a blush on your face. “I make you nervous?” He asked. You gave him a quick glance and saw that he had that stupid smirk on his face. You actually can’t believe you just said that out loud. You had never been someone who got the nervous rambles. You usually just give a short answer and keep quiet. You were so humiliated it was unbearable. Luckily, the room began to fill up with other actors and crew members. You felt Pedro shift beside you and your leg started bouncing out of nervous habit. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The table read was surprisingly uneventful. You had been nervous to read lines back and forth with Pedro but somehow your mind locks in when it’s time to act. You could still feel the intensity, especially when it came to the scene that led up to the steamy moment between the main characters. You just ignored the butterflies and kept reading. 

Once it was over, the director gave a little speech and the crew gave us a few notices. Letting everyone know to check their emails frequently for any changes made to the schedule. As soon as they released everyone for the day, you gathered your things and began to make the walk back to your car. Just as you were grabbing your door handle, you heard your name being called. When you looked up Pedro was jogging over to you. “Hi.” He said as he stopped in front of you. “Uhh hi.” You said awkwardly, still embarrassed from earlier. “Would you maybe want to hang out, get to know each other a little bit? We’ll be spending a lot of time together on screen and I would love to get to know you outside of filming and stuff.” All you could do is stand there and look at him. “I’ll try my best not to make you nervous.” He teased as he smiled brightly at you awaiting an answer. “If I agree to this, you have to promise to not make me nervous.” You held your pinky up and he linked his with yours, locking in his promise. You both dropped your hands. “So uh, what do you want to do?” “I honestly didn’t think that far ahead, I was just trying to catch you before you left.” You look down at the ground and think. “I mean you could come to my place. It’s small and there’s not much to do but we can just hang around and talk I guess…” You trail off at the end looking up at him. “Yea that sounds perfect.” There's a pause… “Uh, do you want me to give you my address or something?” “Oh yea here, let me give you my number so you can send it to me.” You pull out your phone and go to create a new contact. You hand your phone to him and he types in his number. When he hands it back, you notice that he set his contact name to ‘Pedro :)’. You smiled a little and opened the message app and sent him your address. “I just sent it. Did you get it?” He grabs his phone out of his pocket. “Yea I got it.” another pause… “Uh okay cool well, I’ll see you there I guess.” “Yea see you there.” He smiles. “Just text me or something when you get there so you don’t get lost in my apartment complex.” 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

When you got home and hadn’t received a text from Pedro yet, you ran inside and quickly cleaned up as much as you could and sprayed some air freshener. 

‘I’m here :)’

Shit. You checked your appearance in the mirror before running out of the door and down to the parking lot. When you saw him, you started rethinking your entire life that led up to this point. What did you do to deserve having a sexy ass man want to hang out and get to know you?? I mean it’s for work purposes but still, it counts in your head as something more. You saw him get out of his car and make his way over to you. “Hi, um, follow me.” God why did you have to be so weird. “Okie dokie, lead the way.”. Once the two of you reached your apartment, you opened the door and walked inside. “You can take your shoes off if you want, I don’t really care but if you’d be more comfortable you can.” You look at him and he’s smiling at you. “Sorry, I don’t know why I keep rambling.”. You sigh and usher him to follow you to the living room. He takes off his jacket and hat. The sight of his biceps in that tight ass black shirt almost has you drooling. You try to collect yourself as quickly as possible before he notices anything. You take off your doc martens and plop down on the couch. You pat the couch and he sits on the other end. This is so fucking awkward oh my god. 

“Do you want anything to drink or something?”.

“No it’s okay, thank you though.” 

“No problemo.” 

Silence.. 

“Is there anything specific you want to know or um..” You look at him and quickly look away. “Sorry I'm really not good at meeting new people and being myself.” Your leg starts to bounce. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m the one who should be sorry. You told me you had trouble with new people and I sprung this on you.” His eyes move around the room. “You don’t have to be sorry. I promise I want to get to know you too, I just don’t really know how to do that.” 

He thinks for a moment. 

“How about we start with what we already know about each other, then we can ask each other questions based on that? Sound good?” You nod. 

“I can go first. I know your name is y/n. I also know that you’re 35 and that you’re an actress.” You squint your eyebrows together. 35? Where the hell did he get that from? You think for a moment.. Oh fuck. You completely forgot that Angie said you were 35 to get the audition.  

“Oh um yeah. Well I know your name is Pedro, I think you’re 49 but I’m honestly not that sure, and I also know that you’re an actor.” oh yea totally believable that you didn’t know this man's age  by adding an ‘I think’ super smooth…

“How long have you been acting?” 

“Well I moved here like six years ago, almost seven at this point. I did some theater in high school. So however long that is. This is my first big role though.” “That’s surprising.” “What is?” “That this is your first big role.” “Why do you say that?” “Sweetheart, your audition was incredible. You were a natural.” 

Sweetheart 

“Oh um thank you. I’d like to think I’m good.” “You are good.” He sets his hand on your thigh and squeezes as he speaks and immediately retracts his hand. You can still feel the warmth of his quick touch and the spot tingles. Your heart is beating at an unhealthy speed. You look down at your thigh and back to his stupid handsome smiling face.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The two of you continued to talk and get to know each other. You spoke about acting, family, interests, hobbies. Once the conversation flowed more, it was easier to let loose and talk to him without stuttering every two seconds. 

Pedro was laughing at something you said when your stomach growled. 

“Oh my god that is so embarrassing.” You hide your face in your hands. “No need to be embarrassed sweetheart.” There was that name again. “I should leave soon, I didn’t realize it was so late already.” You really wanted him to stay. “You don’t have to go. I was probably going to order something if you wanted to join me.” You offered hoping he would say yes. “I don’t want to be a bother, I’ll get out of your hair.” “Oh. Okay.”. He stood up and stretched his arms up, making his shirt raise just enough for you to catch a glance at his lower tummy. You quickly looked away and stood up as well. 

He put his hat and jacket back on. “Well I should head out.” “Yea.. yea um I’ll walk you out.” You both started walking towards the door. “I’ll see you soon yea? Next time you better not be all shy again you hear me?” “No promises. You make me nervous, remember?.” He chuckles. You open the door for him. He gives you a quick goodbye and then he's gone. You close the door and make your way back to the couch to sit down. You ordered some food and tried to process everything that happened today. 

As you were eating, you got a text. 

Pedro :) 

I had a lot of fun today, we should do it again. 

You start to text a reply but before you can hit send, another text comes through. 

Pedro :) 

Did I mention that you looked really beautiful today? 

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

Thank you for reading <3

next chapter

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Li Zeyan’s Reliance Date (Eng Translation)

⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 依靠之约, that is yet to be released on the global server! ♡

⚠️ Additional Warning ⚠️ while the entire date is not spice-themed, but the steamy parts are borderline dangerous and highly not recommended if you don’t qualify for the 17+ age rating (CN server). so, the call is yours~ :>

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

【Subbed Video】

─────────────

【Chapter 1】 

MC: [on the call] …We need to find some local media outlets that we can potentially partner with for our ad campaign ASAP.

MC: [on the call]  Also, email me a copy of the revised design proposal for the main exhibit booth.

As soon as I hang up the phone, a flurry of work notifications causes my phone to vibrate again. I roll over on the soft couch and can’t help but heave a sigh.

MC: Sigh…

[MC’s Company Name] has undertaken several major projects this year, and all of them have been executed very successfully. The company’s reputation is also gradually expanding beyond Loveland City.

Last month, our company bid for a large-scale project in collaboration with Copenhagen City Council and Loveland City, and I worked overtime for over a month for this.

However, just as we were about to secure the project smoothly, we were maliciously intercepted by the competing company Shuanjian Media. In the end, it was due to LFG stepping in that we were able to resolve the situation with a narrow escape.

Even though the project has been secured, a lingering sense of defeat from being backstabbed and making critical errors remains with me, refusing to dissipate from my mind.

Perhaps because of this, I’ve recently spent the majority of my time being on top of all kinds of tedious work, afraid that if I don’t handle them in time, it will lead to further consequences.

The sound of steady footsteps gradually draws near, and I turn my head to see Li Zeyan walking towards me. He places a cup of hot Longan tea on the coffee table next to me.

LZY: This is already the eighth time a certain someone has sighed tonight. What’s so thorny about the project that got you on edge?

I put my phone down and, somewhat coquettishly, open my arms toward the person in front of me.

MC: We’re planning an exhibition for the project in Copenhagen. Just finalized the venue today and now ironing out the details.

He readily responds to my cue and enfolds me in his arms. His fingers trace their way up my neck, massaging the skin there in a soothing manner.

LZY: If I remember correctly, the preparation period for this exhibition is quite long, and there’s no need for your recent overtime to catch up on the schedule.

MC: You’re right, but the coordination needed for various aspects of a multinational project is quite intricate. Starting earlier allows more elbow room…

MC: Plus, the reason I’ve been working overtime isn’t just for this project. The business interview you’re starring in will also be recorded tomorrow.

MC: It’s the final episode of the year, so I cannot afford any slip-ups!

LZY: You’ve already confirmed the program sequence with me three times today. What could possibly go wrong?

While speaking, Li Zeyan sits down next to me and draws me into his arms.

MC: After all, the external press would absolutely kill to have their names in the show where the CEO Li of LFG is making an appearance. So, I definitely need to be 200% cautious.

Nestled in his embrace, breathing in his familiar scent, I make a conscious effort to relax my somewhat tired brain.

LZY: If you encounter any difficulties, reach out to me at any time.

MC: I’m facing difficulties right now, and I’m in urgent need of CEO Li’s encouragement!

I pucker my lips and lift my head to approach him. The corners of Li Zeyan’s lips curl up slightly, and he lowers his head–– a soft, warm touch descends before leaving just as quickly.

Though fleeting, the tenderness of the moment washes over my heart. I nuzzle his chin with the tip of my nose, feeling perfectly content.

LZY: [chuckles indulgently] Dummy, you’re so easily satisfied.

MC: Why wouldn’t I be? What could be more soothing than a kiss from CEO Li?

MC: As for work matters… CEO Li has already helped me a lot, so I’ll work hard and handle the rest on my own!

LZY: We’ll talk about the “working hard” part later. But if you keep dawdling like this, the bathtub is gonna need a refill of hot water.

MC: Hehe, right now, you should say something like, “Honey, it’s bath time~”

LZY: …

Ignoring the speechless look in his eyes, I lazily shift my position and nuzzle his neck, then stand up with a smile.

MC: Would you like to join me for some relaxation time?

I notice that his fingertips seem to tense up for a moment. Before he can really come and “arrest” me, I make a face at him and dash into the bathroom.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 2】

Soaking in the warm bath, I feel the fatigue in my body dissolving into the water.

Just as I’m about to use my phone to find a drama to watch and completely clear my mind, work messages begin popping up one after another on the screen, and I subconsciously click on them.

MC: [to herself] So, the collaboration partner we agreed on before has backed out…?

As part of our tourism project with Denmark, we are planning to establish recreational and promotional zones in both cities, and we have found an experienced collaborator in the relevant field to partner with.

MC: [to herself] Everything was already talked through and all set, so why are they bringing up issues with the company’s capital chain at this critical juncture?

I feel my insides somewhat burning with rage, so I give Anna a call. She also sounds just as angry and swiftly catches me up to speed on the situation.

Anna: [on the call] I did some digging, and it turns out one of the shareholders of this company has a very close personal relationship with the owner of Shuangjian Media.

MC: [on the call] Shuangjian Media?

Isn’t that the black-hearted company that tried to sabotage our tourism project?

Anna: [on the call] We initially partnered with them because of their experience in cross-border tourism projects, but now wrangling with them is more cumbersome than it’s worth. I think it might be better to take this opportunity to switch to another company.

MC: [on the call] …let me think about it.

I release a sigh and hang up the phone, then bury my face in the water, blowing bubbles as a mild head throbbing creeps over me.

The perfect company… As I ponder on this matter, a face flashes through my mind.

As a matter of fact, I have casually mentioned this project to Li Zeyan before, but he didn’t show much interest in it.

Should I… go ask him?

Even though I know in my heart–– LFG is the ideal choice that can’t go wrong, for some reason, I can’t seem to bring myself to voice my thoughts.

I can’t always turn to Li Zeyan to help resolve my problems every time I run into one.

No longer in the mood to soak in the warm bath, I reach for the shampoo and press the nozzle, intending to wash up as quickly as possible.

I press down hard twice, but the bottle only emits a sputtering sound, and the last remaining bit of shampoo drips pitifully into my palm.

MC: …

Akin to a sudden spark explosion, it instantly triggers a denotation of all the built-up frustration inside me.

I take a deep breath, jerk myself up from the water and throw on a robe, intending to head for the cabinet to find a new bottle of shampoo.

Little did I know, the moment I step onto the tiled floor, I feel my feet slip out from under me, and my body uncontrollably begins to topple forward––

With a loud thud, the immediate sensation of pain shoots up my knee.

MC: [in pain] Hiss…

The pain causes my eyes to burn hot, and I slide down onto the bathroom floor, rubbing my knee.

A flurry of somewhat anxious footsteps echoes outside the door. Moments later, the door is flung open, revealing Li Zeyan’s face, tension written across his entire countenance, an expression that is rarely seen on him.

LZY: [panicked af]  What happened?

The blast of cold air from the open door causes me to shiver. Noticing this, he closes the door before squatting down beside me.

MC: …I slipped and banged my knee.

As he looks at my slightly reddened knee, a hint of helplessness crosses his expression.

LZY: [sighs with infinite indulgent resignation] Restless.

His warm thumb massages the area around my reddened knee, causing the jumble of fretful emotions in my heart to instantly turn into a surge of grievances and pour out.

I blink, trying to dispel the mist clouding my vision. The finger caressing my skin pauses for a moment before suddenly landing at the corner of my eye, catching me unawares.

LZY: [even more indulgently] Crying because it hurts too much?

MC: …no, it’s not that!

MC: It’s nothing serious, just that I got a call from Anna earlier. There’s been… a minor hiccup with the tourism project.

Pouting my lips, I recount to Li Zeyan the “bad news” I’ve just received.

LZY: Do you need my help?

This seems to be the second time he has asked this question. I struggle with myself for a moment before shaking my head.

MC: There’s… no need for now, but if I can’t handle it myself, I’ll definitely reach out to CEO Li.

Hearing me respond this way, Li Zeyan doesn’t press further, and he simply places his palm on the side of my knee.

LZY: Does it still hurt?

Listening to his tender tone, I can’t help but gently hook my finger around his.

MC: It hurts… I can’t get up.

LZY: [laughs helplessly] When a certain stubborn someone fixates on something, there’s no stopping her, but she’s oddly honest when it comes to being afraid of pain.

MC: I’m just being a little persistent, is all. I can’t always have you be my safety net every time there’s an issue… ouch!

My knee twitches slightly, and a dull ache once again surges through my knee, reminiscent of spreading out along silken threads.

LZY: You can’t solve two things at once, so take them one at a time.

LZY: Do you want to take care of your knee first, or deal with the work matters?

MC: …knee.

The air in the small bathroom with thick with white steam, and even Li Zeyan’s faint sigh seems to blend into the steaming hot vapor.

LZY: [lets out a complex laugh; it’s of sb who is all-knowing of all happenings but is infinitely indulgent towards you]  Then listen to me.

MC: [confused]  What…

–

Before I can finish my sentence, Li Zeyan has already shown me through his actions how I should “listen.”

A soft touch imprints on my skin, and a burning sensation spreads from my knee along my skin to my entire body.

I jolt slightly and freeze for a moment. The patch of skin kissed by that softness tingles, and it seems like even the pain is slowly dissipating.

LZY: Don’t fidget; it might make the pain worse.

The deep, slightly hoarse tailing note of his voice, accompanied by the sound of running water, causes me to subconsciously draw my leg back a little, only to have it restrained in place by that hand again.

A gentle sensation, carrying with it a slight chill, seems to pepper its way over my knee, and the painful spot feels as if it’s being licked with cherishment and care.

All the senses in my body seem to be concentrated on that one spot, and I can’t help but take a light breath.

MC: Li Zeyan… 

LZY: [SO SOF– but you can also hear he’s THERE–]  Hm?

MC: …It’s nothing, I just wanted to say your name…

The fingers supporting my knee tighten slightly, and a surge of scorching breath sweeps over me, swallowing my trailing notes.

I follow his breath and, bit by bit, probe deeper, my heart in my chest pounding in synchronization with his increasingly rising body heat.

Warm water continues to gush from the showerhead, soaking both Li Zeyan’s clothes and mine without distinction.

A body temperature hotter than mine gradually closes in, and I feel as if I’m drowning in this steamy heat swirling in the air.

The lingering colorful bubbles from the shower gel float into the air, then burst open with a pop, leaving behind a soft chime drowned out by the sound of water.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 3】

Even though I gave up on the bubble bath halfway, ended up having to take a second shower, and by the time I went to bed, it was already the middle of the night, I still woke up early today.

[MC’s Company Name] annual business interview program is scheduled to shoot its final episode today, and Li Zeyan will be appearing as the heavyweight guest in this installment.

I have postponed all my other work and arrived at the studio early to ensure every detail of the shoot is absolutely flawless.

The soft white light from the softbox projects onto the light gray background wall, dimly reflecting the shadows of people hurrying around.

Standing in front of the filming equipment, I direct the production crew to adjust the set.

MC: This table needs to be moved a bit more. It doesn’t look well-positioned at the moment.

MC: Turn the reflector on the front left a little more to the right… there, perfect!

MC: The set is almost ready. I’ll go and check on the guest first.

—

After saying hello to the supervisor, I head to the dressing room.

Li Zeyan, clad in a suit, sits in front of a vanity mirror, his bangs swept up, causing his somewhat piercing eyes to be enhanced with an even deeper intensity.

The moment I walk in, those eyes precisely capture me from the reflection in the mirror.

MC: How is the preparation coming along, CEO Li?

LZY: Not bad. Is everything taken care of on the set?

Detecting a hint of jest in his tone, I walk over with a smile.

MC: Yup, that’s why I’m here to check in on this side of things–– CEO Li is our important, esteemed guest after all, so we can’t afford to be negligent.

MC: Therefore, today, my entire day belongs to you, CEO Li.

I wink at him through the mirror and catch a subtle smile playing at the edge of Li Zeyan’s lips.

I sit down on a stool nearby and watch the makeup artist styling Li Zeyan.

From this angle, his ocular orbit and the bridge of his nose appear even more defined, accentuating the depth of his eyes all the more.

MC: CEO Li’s side profile could outshine many stars on the cover of fashion magazines without competition.

LZY: [laughs in spite of himself] …always laying it on thick.

Even though he says this, the slight arch at the tip of his brows betrays a hint of delight.

Spellbound, as I continue to watch him, my phone suddenly vibrates twice, and a message from Kiki pops up––

Kiki: Boss, great news!!

In the chat window, a push notification jumps into my sight, and a few familiar words grab my attention.

MC: [reading the news] “Shuangjian Media Faces Major Crisis! Multiple celebrities under its banner are implicated in tax evasion scandals, and the investigation is underway. The amount of tax evasion has reached up to…”

Upon seeing the number below, I take in a sharp breath of air.

With such a large amount of tax evasion being investigated, it’s sure to land them in serious trouble.

Although I have caught the wind of some rumors before, suddenly so many people being exposed at once seems more like a deliberate action…

A vague idea surfaces in my mind. I instinctively look towards the man not far away, only to lock eyes with him directly.

LZY: MC.

I haven’t even noticed when, but his styling is already complete, and the makeup artist has left the dressing room, leaving only the two of us.

The slightly slim-fitted suit highlights his already tall and straight stature, and his slender fingers unhurriedly adjust the cufflinks. He looks in my direction, lifting his head slightly.

LZY: Help me out.

I raise my eyes and see a rose gold collar pin loosely hanging from the collar of his light gray shirt. 

I walk up to him and carefully fasten the collar pin. My fingertips inadvertently graze against the skin of his neck, eliciting a slight quiver of the Adam’s apple beneath the collar.

A somewhat scorching breath caresses my bangs, leaving a tickling sensation.

LZY: [laughs in amusement] Why are you zoning out?

His warm fingertips are on my neck, gently grazing the skin there intermittently.

MC: Just saw some good news that came as a relief for body and mind, that’s why I was a little distracted.

MC: Shuangjian Media, the company that intercepted [MC’s Company Name] before, has hit a roadblock… I wonder who “played the hero to uphold justice.”

I smile and wink at him, trying to discern any inkling of a clue from his expression that would confirm my guess.

However, he simply lowers his eyes slightly and looks at me, a barely perceptible arc forming on his lips.

LZY: [chuckles softly, but that’s a mastermind chuckle i tell you lmao] That’s quite nice.

MC: Li Zeyan, you…

A knock on the door cuts me off, and the voice of my assistant comes from outside.

Assistant: Boss, CEO Li, it’s almost time for the shoot to begin.

MC: Got it, we’ll be right there.

I purse my lips, suppressing my urge to inquire further, and loosen my hands, intending to escort Li Zeyan to the filming studio.

To my surprise, the pair of arms holding me within show no intention of letting go. He lowers his eyes, his gaze intent upon me.

LZY: Given the importance of this shoot, there ought to be an additional step in the preparation process.

With his head lowered, Li Zeyan leans in towards me slightly. A gentle and familiar breath assaults my senses, and his soft finger pad presses between my lips and teeth, hinting at something ambiguous. 

I cradle his face and lift myself up on my toes.

Our breaths intertwine for a brief moment, but a gentle ripple is left in my heart, reminiscent of a dragonfly lightly touching the water’s surface.

MC: So, even CEO Li needs a little encouragement before stepping in front of the camera?

LZY: I learned it from a certain someone.

The light in those deep eyes remains locked onto me, shimmering slightly, radiating a glow that seeps into my heart.

LZY: And it’s very effective.

—

Such scenes are run-of-the-mill for Li Zeyan. His tone remains steady throughout and devoid of any trace of tension.

LZY: The economic situation this year isn’t conducive to expanding the business scope or making risky investments, but there are more opportunities in the lower-tier markets compared to previous years…

As I watch Li Zeyan through the camera lens, the soft light, which leans more on the cooler tone, accentuates the depths of the man’s countenance all the more.

He speaks at a measured pace, but each word is uttered with an inexplicable sense of certainty.

Host: Although CEO Li mentioned just now that this year isn’t favorable for expanding business extern, LFG seems to be steadily venturing into new fields this year.

LZY: As a matter of fact, LFG has not been as stable this year as it may seem from the outside. On the contrary, we’ve encountered more crises than in previous years.

LZY: The failure of some investments has even put us under the preying eyes of many industry peers.

LZY: But fortunately, I’m not alone in holding up LFG, and LFG is not an isolated island––

As he speaks, his gaze seems to subtly shift towards me behind the camera. In that brief second our eyes interlock, the corners of his lips curl upward into a small smile.

But when I focus and take a closer look again, it’s as if that fleeting smile was never there.

LZY: LFG was able to weather this year’s storms without any mishaps not only due to our decisions but also thanks to the countless colleagues who worked tirelessly day and night to recover the company’s losses, as well as to the support of our subsidiaries.

LZY: Especially the companies that LFG has invested in. Without them, LFG would’ve encountered even greater challenges this year.

Li Zeyan’s straight-from-the-shoulder remarks leave even the host a little taken aback, an expression of surprise settling on their face.

Host: It appears that even LFG, regarded as the lion king in the eyes of the others, has times when it rides the waves to advance.

LZY: That’s inevitable; no one walks a solitary path in this society.

LZY: Having your own plans and making decisive choices is important, but choosing the right people to move forward with is equally important.

I am slightly taken aback.

This was not in the script; it’s obviously an impromptu remark from Li Zeyan.

I’m not sure why, but these words suddenly make me think of those eyes gazing into mine in the bathroom last night.

The unnecessary persistences in my heart seem to quietly start to disintegrate. I tightly clench my fingers and pull my attention back to the show.

Host: We can tell that CEO Li is speaking from the heart. It seems that not only for the company but also for you, CEO Li, personally, do you have someone who can be considered as your exclusive “valued person”?

This time, I clearly see the smile in his eyes. I hold my breath slightly, waiting for the answer that I may have already known for a long time, yet can’t help eagerly anticipating––

LZY: [while looking at you] I do. It’s a well-spring that will never run dry, even in the desert. No matter what trouble may arise, I know without a doubt––

LZY: [while looking at you] She will be by my side forever.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 4】

After the interview concludes, the filming crew and I head to the Central Grand Hotel.

To celebrate the completion of year-end work and the official wrap-up of the show, [MC’s Company Name] is holding a team-building celebration party here.

Perhaps because the end of the year is drawing closer, a festive atmosphere gradually begins to permeate, filling the banquet hall with laughter.

Being spurred on by this pure joy, I also end up having a few extra drinks.

I find myself feeling a little woozy, until, finally, Li Zeyan takes the wine glass from my hand and escorts me all the way to the lounge of the suite.

—

Inside the room’s bathroom, I turn on the faucet–– the cool water flows over my hand, washing away the slight tipsiness from the alcohol.

After the buzz from the alcohol has worn off a bit, I exhale and push open the bathroom door.

—

The lights in the room are not lit, and a familiar voice can be heard drifting from near the window. He seems to be on the phone with someone.

LZY: …got it. Email it to me.

The high heels under my feet tread on the soft carpet, barely producing any sound as I walk quietly to the floor-to-ceiling windows––

Outside the glass windows of the high-rise, thousands of lights spread out into the distance like a dazzling mosaic of stars.

Li Zeyan is lying on the carpet, the neon lights falling upon him in soft, colorful specks.

I sit down by the freestanding panoramic bathtub not far from him, watching as he hangs up the call.

MC: Was that about work?

LZY: Mm. I heard [MC’s Company Name] is looking for new partners for the Denmark project. I’ve asked the marketing department to draft a proposal. Once it’s finalized, I’ll send it over to you.

MC: But… weren’t you not very interested in this project before?

LZY: It’s true that the profit margins of this project are finite for LFG. However, if we approach it strategically, it could be a breakthrough in the Nordic market.

Seeing my somewhat baffled expression, he raises an eyebrow.

LZY: Since a certain someone has been dragging her feet, I have no choice but to take the initiative and propose it myself.

LZY: Or perhaps you already have other choices in mind?

MC: Of course not!

I don’t shy away from meeting those deep eyes of his squarely. My heart skips a beat, and I’m reminded of the question I’ve been holding back all afternoon.

MC: Before I give you my formal answer, I also have something I’d like to ask CEO Li––

MC: Shuangjian Media artists were found to have engaged in tax evasion. Helping [MC’s Company Name] vent some frustration this way… that was CEO Li’s doing, wasn’t it?

LZY: After all, a certain someone has been frowning and being glued to her phone even during meals for the past two weeks because of the troubles this company has stirred.

LZY: It’s best to take care of it early on, so it doesn’t take up more of your energy.

I’m momentarily stunned, and as I reflect on the recent events, a surge of emotions suddenly intertwines in my heart.

MC: So, CEO Li, what you are subtly reminding me is that I’ve been too occupied with work recently and have been neglecting you?

LZY: [you can’t hear me, but I’m screaming––]  I simply want to have the share that’s rightfully mine.

His understated words convey a hint of tenderness that’s impossible to miss, and it sears into my heart, making the swaying toes of my feet pause mid-motion.

MC: Li Zeyan, thank you. Even though it may sound very formal, I still want to say thank you.

LZY: I wonder who was the person that said before that, you and I, we are one identity?

I’m slightly taken aback for a moment–– I did seem to have said those words not too long ago.

At the time, FengZhen Group was making moves against LFG, and I couldn’t be more grateful to be the one who could stand by his side.

–

[Tidbits]: It’s a call-back to Li Zeyan’s 2024 CNY UR: Burning Imprints~

–

MC: [teasingly]  I believe I said “and LFG” at the time.

LZY: [confidently shrugs off LOL] Same thing.

LZY: Both LFG and I are enmeshed in many complicated relationships, and more and more branches and leaves are slowly growing outward.

LZY: So there’s no need to be so anxious. You’ve long been the sharpest blade capable of breaking the siege for LFG.

The lingering haze that has been weighing on my mind for the past half a month suddenly clears up. In its place, there arises a kind of sweet and surging fluttering sensation, and it’s overwhelming enough to fill my entire heart.

I did seem to be a little too anxious, so anxious that I overlooked the fact that I didn’t need to be in a hurry to rush forward. The unshakable position by his side will always belong to me and me alone.

I lower my eyes, my gaze tracing the contours of his outline obscured by the darkness.

MC: Li Zeyan… you will forever be my first choice.

–

As the words leave my lips, my ankle is suddenly clasped by a warm, dry palm.

Followed by a sigh that almost blends into the night, a twinge of pain shoots through my calf––

My eyes widen, watching as Li Zeyan’s lips meet my skin and nip me gently. He raises his eyes to interlock with mine, and I can see a hint of dissatisfaction swimming in their depths.

LZY: [GOSH THAT SULKY YET SEXY TONE] You’ve hesitated for too long.

Warm fingertips trace upward along my calf little by little, as if offering a kind of appeasement.

The worries haunting me every now and again, concealed in the darkest recesses of my heart, are set alight and burned to ashes.

MC: …I didn’t take that long.

LZY: Since I am your first choice, don’t hesitate.

His fiery breath snakes slowly up the inside of my knee, accompanied by comforting words tinged with a layer of inexplicable rosy hue, causing one to become addicted.

The soft touch rests gently agains the bend of my knee, causing me to shiver involuntarily. I chuckle softly and look at him with a semi-playful gaze.

MC: Um… Mr. “First Choice,” could you help me with something––

MC: Tell me, what can I do to make you happier?

Not waiting for me to finish my sentence, the pressure on my thigh increases slightly, and suddenly my body feels lighter.

The cry of exclamation hasn’t even left me before I find my entire person already wrapped in strong, solid arms.

LZY: You knowingly ask the question.

His deep eyes are so close to me, almost within reach. I can clearly see countless sparks surging beneath them, stirring up an ambiguous and inexplicable heat.

LZY: [chuckles softly] Also, while I said I would help you, it doesn’t mean you won’t have to pay the price.

LZY: After all, I don’t do business at a loss.

LZY: You still have time to think about… what you can give to pay me.

My heart is filled to the brim. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, bury my face in the crook of his neck, and release a sigh of contentment.

The throbbing and undulations of his chest pound against my body again and again, and even the depths of my very soul seem to be trembling along with the motion––

Filling up my entire being.

──────────────────────────────────────────

[777gojosgf]

THE POWER OF PROPHECY

777GOJOSGF IS TYPING…

777gojosgf: morally grey!f!reader x satoru gojo

IN WHERE :: you reminisce the night you met him for the first time.

trigger warning: violence, graphic mentions, blood, assault.

a/n: part of the nightcrawler series!

THE FINAL VESTIGES OF THE clan you were exiled from marked you as the blood down your face. there were repercussions to being called a bastard, particularly after losing both of your parents. you were not just an orphan; you got the impression that the world had given up on you as well, leaving you to fend for yourself while avoiding certain death.

you have killed numerous times. sometimes it was a commission because, as a young girl, you had no other means of earning money and surviving in the world. however, that was also how you developed and the outside world got to know you. your identity became anonymous, and it was exciting for commissioners and other establishments to discover who you were.

hell, there was even a bounty on your head.

you had encountered a lot of people in this jujutsu society because of the notorious lifestyle. despite one of them being a member of the zenin clan, he refused to identify as zenin. you simply loved his courage to defy his strength and forge his own path, despite the fact that he was someone to be dreaded. maybe you two weren't as different as you believed.

however the kill this time made you shiver, the fury and vengeance surging through your body made you feel as if you were on fire.

even though you kept promising yourself that you would cease performing other people's dirty work, you had accepted a commission much against your own feelings. however, it was difficult to make money without a job, a degree, or anything else that could even somewhat assist you in that area. at the orphanage, you were undoubtedly taught the fundamental school courses—in which you excelled flawlessly— but at the age of sixteen, you left without saying anything. wishing to leave the place as soon as possible.

and your trainer, the owner of the orphanage, understood.

maybe that’s why he never reached out to you again. because he knew that you would do that yourself.

you settled into a seat in the shinjuku city casino's bar. when the barman asked whether you wanted anything to drink, you graciously declined, not wanting alcohol to tarnish your nightly commission. instead, your left-handed fingers were tapping on your thigh as you calmly anticipated your attack, while your eyes were scanning everyone in the casino like a hawk.

the assignment was to assassinate a businessman who frequently spent company money at the casino. thus individual had, regrettably, meddled with the wrong empire and tried to sue them. he apparently didn't realise how dangerous the business in tokyo is.

their money was paid in blood.

an eye for an eye.

and it was something you respected.

you had swiftly located him seated at the poker table at the rear of the casino. he had his other colleagues and an escort with him. however, your desire to murder him vanished the moment you noticed who else was seated at the poker table. you laughed out loud and attracted unusual glances from the patrons at the bar.

the reassigned heir from the clan you were banished from.

the universe really had its fun with you, didn’t it?

but that wasn’t all, so you got up from your chair right away to take a closer look at the issue. he had an unsettling grin on his face that you didn't like, and it was clear that he was intoxicated. you thought he had finished gambling with all of his money.

your fortune.

however, what enraged you was the way he got up and grabbed the female servers. the heir was discreetly followed by the dreaded clicking of your heels. he caught hold of a waitress, who yelled in shock and attempted to free herself, but she was unable to escape and no one dared to assist her.

He he led her outdoors, but he had been foolish to ignore the person he was following. ultimately, he is the heir to one of the most influential clans, and people would constantly want him dead.

as did you.

you waited two seconds before kicking the back door open through which he fled, still holding her. startled, he turned around and lost his grasp on the waitress, making her yell for help and starting to run for it. you empathized with her and it was time to make sure he wouldn’t dare to lay his hand on another woman ever again.

"who are you?" he screamed, reaching into one pocket for the pocketknife he knew was there. you could only chuckle and put out your foot as he grabbed it and attempted to reach for you, causing him to stumble and fall face-first into the floor in front of you. you gave him a stomach kick that caused him to roll over and lie on his back. the scent of intoxication, which you dismissed, drifted through the air along with the late-night breeze. "i would tell you not to touch a woman ever again, but you would still do it. would you not?”

he shook his head rapidly and tried to form up empty promises but a kick to his lower area made him scream out in pain.

"on my terms, i’ll make sure it doesn't happen again.” you continued, "i hope you know that that was my money you fucked with," and he opened his eyes, trying to figure out if he recognised you. though your mask did a good job of hiding your identity, sadly, the moonlight shone down on the two of you, allowing the violet undertones of your eyes to be seen through the black contacts that were placed over them.

“bastard?”

the hearing of what he called made you go into tunnel vision and you reached for the melee knife that was strapped to your thigh in a holster. without thinking twice, you plunged and the blood splattered across your face.

you felt the blood trailing down your face as you went to grab your knife and wipe it clean with the blazer that he was wearing before putting it back into your holster. “fucking asshole.” you muttered before walking away from the scene, leaving his body alone at the casino.

that would mean that your clan would need a new heir, once more.

how ironic.

sometimes you felt guilty at the lives that you have taken from others even though they were always someone that had done unjustifiable things in their life.

however, this time, every single portion of your body was devoid of any regret. and this served just to fuel the retaliation plans you had been considering ever since you were put in the orphanage. a plan to exact revenge on them all, hold them accountable, and demonstrate to them what a so-called bastard like you was capable of.

killing the heir was only the start of it all.

“you confuse me,” a voice said that was right in front of you and you snapped out of your trance. the cursed energy in front of you was unlike any other you felt, but besides that the man in front of you had a presence of his own unrelated to the energy he possessed.

you stopped in your tracks and your eyes trailed him up to down, and you were quick to recognize him.

that white hair was recognizable anywhere.

“pardon?”

“well, you know— you have so much energy residing inside of you that i could feel it from miles away. i don’t like to say it but, it’s impressive. although i can’t say that i recognize you.” he explained before walking over to lean with his back against the casino. “some would have thought you would kill others with the use of techniques, no?”

your eyebrows knitted in confusion and you debated to perhaps walk away from this conversation. not wanting to get interrogated by a stranger.

well, you were unsure if you could call the satoru gojo a stranger.

he noted that you weren’t going to explain anything to him so he decided to lead the conversation once more. “you’re not a curse user, or perhaps you are and i haven’t been across many to figure out you are one or not. nor are you a former student from jujutsu high but i’m not sure if you have attended any sorcerer establishments at all.”

“what is it to you?” you asked clearly annoyed.

“curiosity is all,” he said with a grin on his face that only added to your confusion that was mixed with your annoyance.

perhaps you should have walked away after all.

“besides, if we look past your little killing scheme,” he paused and gave you a slight side eye which only irritated you even more, “i’d like to invite you to come with me to jujutsu high. you don’t have to become anything, but maybe getting to know the energy that resides inside of you is a good thing.” he proposed while raising his eyebrow, his tone convincing and he truly thought he had you.

but the evil smile that plastered on your face was enough for him to frown.

now you would truly uphold to your promise of no more commissions.

“curiosity killed the cat, gojo. do you plan to use me as a pawn, because you’re foolish if you think you could convince me with such a poor offer.” you started to slowly walk towards him, “you jujutsu idiots have no shame, do you?” you pointed out before walking away from him to go back to haunt the streets of tokyo.

“the offer still stands.” he called out from behind you but you didn’t turn around.

"you better have a greater proposal the next time we see each other, because I'm guessing this won't be the last time." you drawled and swore that you heard a small laugh.

a/n: woah long chapter alert and i didn’t even write this fully like i wanted to…. perhaps an actual fanfic is needed. because i have many ideas for this 🤗🤗

©777gojosgf

[krirebr]

For MTT: what if Ransom was actually looking forward to the arrangement, sick of dating and the party scene. When he sees reader it’s love at first sight for him at least.

Chelsea! This was a great ask, but answering it was hard for me. Maybe because MTT has so fully taken over my brain and trying to change it just a little tripped all sorts of internal booby traps for me.

Regardless, I was able to come up with something. Here is an alternate version of their first meeting where Ransom isn't a complete dick from his POV. But because I'm me, I, of course, can't just let these two be happy right away. Even in this alternate, alternate universe.

And somehow, even though this fought me the whole way, it's still well over 1k words. I don't know how.

No Way of Knowing

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, references to forced marriage and forced pregnancy, angst

Ransom was furious when Harlan and Linda told him. Absolutely livid. How dare they dictate his life like this! Yes, most of his friends had already entered into similar arrangements years ago, but he was doing fine the way he was!

And they were so fucking smug when they told him. ‘Oh, it’ll be so good for you.’ ‘It’s about time you settled down and joined the real world.’ Fuck that.

But. When he got home and had a chance to think calmly about it, without his mother’s resting smug face glaring at him, what was he doing, really? He was inching ever closer to forty and sleeping with random socialites just wasn’t as fun as it used to be. Almost all of his friends were married, so he didn’t really see much of them anymore. He was kind of lonely if he let himself admit it. Would this really be so terrible, if he did it for himself and not for them?

The pregnancy clause was admittedly awful but if you took the narrow timeline away for a minute, he could actually see wanting to be a father. He’d do it right, wouldn’t treat his kids the way his parents had treated him. This didn’t have to be the worst thing.

So he spent the next week going through the binder they’d given him, did what he could to get to know you. You were young, which made him a little nervous, but it wasn’t the largest age gap he’d seen in one of these things, and you were still very much an adult. You seemed intelligent (your fucking test scores were in there, which just seemed like a wild invasion of privacy) and sweet. You had a dog, which wasn’t ideal, but at least it was small, so he hoped he’d be able to tolerate it.

All in all, you didn’t seem like the typical society fare that Linda liked to parade in front of him. He dared to hope that that would hold true once he met you. That opportunity came faster than he was ready for. Just a week after he’d signed the papers, he was sitting in a restaurant, waiting for you. He already had his Macallan 18, trying to get some liquid courage before you appeared. 

You were a few minutes early and seemed surprised but pleased that he was already there. He stood up as you approached the table, partly to be polite and partly to get a better look at you. You were beautiful. Gorgeous. It was shocking, really, the way you took his breath away. That’d never happened before. 

“Hi,” you said softly as you stood opposite him and extended your hand, then gave him your name.

“Hi,” he said, somewhat stupidly. He swallowed and tried to pull himself together. “I’m Ransom,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” you said, cautiously, as you sat across from him and he sat back down. “Have you ordered yet?”

He shook his head, “Just a drink. I’m ready to order food whenever, but I’m in no rush.”

You nodded and after you briefly looked at the menu, he signaled the server over. He couldn’t stop watching you as you ordered. You asked a lot of questions about their wine selection. It seemed like you knew what you were talking about. He found himself wanting you to tell him all about it, how you knew so much, why you liked it. He just wanted to listen to you. 

Once the server was gone, you looked over at him warily. You were so nervous. He wanted to reach across the table and gently hold your hand, but he wasn’t sure how it’d be received. “So,” you said carefully, “I guess we should talk about how this is going to go.”

He nodded, a little disappointed that you wanted to get down to business straight away. He wanted to just talk, get to know you, take some time, but he supposed that he couldn’t blame you for wanting to get the hard parts out of the way. “I have a house,” he said, “just outside Boston. I think you’ll like it. It’s big, in a good neighborhood, quiet. But I’m not sure how suitable it will be for starting a family. That’s something we’ll have to talk about once you’ve seen it.”

You looked at him, shocked. “Start a family? Don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourself? We’ve only just met.”

The bottom dropped out of his stomach. Oh no. “Didn’t they tell you? You didn’t read the contract?” There was no way. They couldn’t have been that cruel.

He could see the panic rising in your eyes. “They didn’t give me any time to read it,” you said, your voice wavering. “What didn’t they tell me?”

Fucking shit. How could they have done that to you? And now he had to be the one to break the news. He cleared his throat and tried to speak calmly, gently. “There's a clause in the contract. We’ll need to conceive a child within the first year.”

“What.” you whispered.

He didn’t say anything, wanting to give you time to process. And he was afraid that if he tried to speak right now, his voice would come out far too angry. He needed to find out who was responsible for this, who had treated you so terribly.

“A baby,” you breathed. “With you? Right away.”

“They should have told you. Talked to you about it. I’m so sorry, you shouldn’t have found out this way.” He wasn’t sure you heard him. You just stared straight ahead.

That, of course, was when the server brought out the food. The sound of your plate hitting the table right in front of you seemed to bring you back to the here and now. You looked down at it and shook your head and then looked back at him. “I don’t think I’m very hungry,” you said. 

“That’s fine. We–” 

You stood up, interrupting him. “I’m sorry,” you said, both your voice and body very stiff, “but I need to go.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, desperate to get you to change your mind, to fix this. “I’d really like you to stay, so we can have a chance to talk.”

You shook your head. “No,” you said, your voice resolute. “I can’t tonight. Maybe– Maybe we can talk another time.” 

And then you turned around and walked away, leaving Ransom reeling. He would spend the rest of his meal thinking about all the ways he would make this up to you, earn your trust, win you over. 

Tag lists are open

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[littlejuicebox]

Midnight Chimes

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: Pre-BG3. You are an apothecary on holiday, visiting your family in Baldur's Gate. You happen upon a certain silver-haired rake, and think perhaps he isn't what he seems. Rating/Warnings: PG / Very mild if any game spoilers but nothing related to major content or scenes Word Count: 2.3K Notes: Playing around with a little something different. Tried to keep this GN but please lmk if you caught something! :)

-----

The bell sounded its subtle chime above the tavern door; your buzzed gaze drifts from the ink-splotched pages of the book in front of you as you assess the newcomer. A cold gust of winter air sneaks in behind the elf now entering the tavern, and you shiver before pulling your fur coat more snugly around your frame. As you do, you realize you’ve seen that particular elf around here before. It had been several years, not since you were a lowly apprentice at the apothecary shop down the street… but you’d recognize that head of perfectly coiffed silver hair anywhere.

Had it really been almost ten years since your father threw that very same stranger out of the family tavern and forbade him from coming back? Admittedly, the elf looked like he’d hardly aged a day in all that time, but you supposed that was far from unusual for his race.

Pristine silvery hair, annoyingly attractive and all too aware of that fact, holding himself with a palpable air of haughty confidence… yes, he was exactly as you remembered from those many moons ago. You were just a youngling then, not but twenty, and back then your eyes had tracked the rake and his behavior with suspicious curiosity, just as they did now.

You’d been a server all those years ago, working nights at your parents’ tavern for tips and studying at Valindra’s Vials during the day. He’d been somewhat of a regular, always leaving with some being or another wrapped in his charismatic spell, and always waltzing in a few days later entirely unattached, as if that being never existed. A rake through and through.

And then one day, father had thrown the rake out for pickpocketing, forbidding him from ever returning. Years flew by, you completed your apprenticeship and moved to Waterdeep, only to return on holidays to visit your family and endure constant badgering about settling down and finding a spouse… and you’d all but forgotten the silver-haired elf.

Yet here he was, as if nothing had changed, and as rakish as ever. Father no longer tended the bar on weekends, so no one was around to recognize the man and throw him out on a decade-long ban… besides you. And honestly? It didn’t seem worth disturbing the last few hours of your holiday on such melodramatics. In your mind, a paying patron was a welcome patron as long as they kept their sticky fingers to themselves.

The silver-haired elf enters the warmth of tavern and meanders about, glossing his scarlet eyes over the crowd before ordering something from your cousin behind the bar.

You turn your attention back to the book and the notes you’d been penning in the margins, a nearly empty glass of wine and barely eaten sweet roll your only company. You pick off another piece of the pastry and pop it into your mouth before flipping the page of your tome. Hopefully mama and papa would be in bed by the time your cousin closed the bar… and you could sneak into your room without any further harassment from those two.

Family was everything to you, and you loved your parents dearly, but during every holiday visit you were quickly reminded why you’d originally left for Waterdeep. Things became stifling after about a week in that tiny apartment, and you were more-often down in the tavern than up in the living arrangements above it toward the end of your stay. Distance truly did make the heart grow fonder in your case; you were itching to get back to the solitude of home and away from the relentless line of questioning from mama and papa. Thankfully, you’d be back on the road to Waterdeep come morning and done enduring the inquisition until the next holiday.

You see the rake slide into the seat next to you out of your peripherals, and he opens his mouth, no doubt to shoot you his best line, but you cut him off with a quick and firm, “Nope. Not interested.”

He’s stunned. Baffled. It’s written on his face as you turn to address him head on, your narrowed eyes meeting his red ones squarely and unabashedly. The elf’s mouth is hanging open; he shuts it and squints in your direction for a mere moment. Then, he takes a sip out of whatever is in his goblet and narrows his vermillion eyes at the contents inside instead... not a fan of the drink, it seems.

The stranger decides to throw away whatever poor line he was going to use on you. Instead, his gaze flickers down to the book in your hands and takes note of the new conversational material. He is clearly not going to be dissuaded by your first rejection.

“What are you reading, darling?” The silver-haired elf asks, his voice resembling something of a purr. He leans just a bit closer, faking interest in the pages as you feel his hand slip nearer to your thigh.

“A book, darling. Ever seen one before?” You responded flatly, truly in no mood for whatever game this was and pointedly pushing his hand out of your personal bubble. You snap the book shut and stare at the silver-haired elf incredulously, placing the tome in the space between your bodies as a barrier.

Something about your response caused the rake to laugh in absolute delight, as if being outright rejected had never happened to him before. He was seeming to enjoy this little exchange. You, on the other hand, were not.

“Look — what’s your name?”

“Astarion.”

“Look, Astarion, I can promise you I am not interested. I’m not playing hard to get, I’m not playing coy. You may not remember me, but I remember you… my family owns this tavern and I worked here years ago, before my father threw you out… or did you forget that technically you’re banned? I know your game; in fact, I’ve seen you play it more than once. There are plenty of fine people in this establishment that cannot take their eyes off you. So if you’re looking for a lay, take your pick of the low hanging fruit and bugger off.”

Astarion is silent, but his eyes twinkle in entertained delight around the edges, a small smirk dancing on the corner of his mouth as he appraises you. He hums softly and takes another sip of his drink before glancing around the room. Sure enough, there are more than a few patrons with their sights quite obviously set on the rake and whatever talents he may possess, but he rolls his eyes at the gawkers and turns his attention back to you. Finally, Astarion breaks the silence with a low murmur, quite intent on continuing whatever interaction this is.

Meanwhile, you’re wondering why the hell every word that comes out of his mouth sounds like the most salacious thing you’ve ever heard.

“And what if I’m not looking for a lay, hm? What if… I’m looking for a riveting intellectual discussion? Is that more up your alley, darling?” Astarion asks, that cocky eyebrow lifting in something of a challenge.

You sigh. Admittedly, "riveting intellectual discussion" wasn’t something you often came across while visiting your family; it was certainly more up your alley than whatever half-assed lines he thought he might throw like bones to a dog. And... it would be nice to have someone to share a decent conversation with for once, if the rake could actually stand up to the challenge.

“Fine.” You mutter before downing the rest of your wine and gesturing to your cousin, who was now watching you from the bar with vague curiosity, for a refill. Astarion smiles before tapping the cover of your book with long, lithe fingers.

“Notable Poisons and Toxins of the Sword Coast?” He asks, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Looking to murder someone, perhaps?"

“I’m an apothecary.” You explain with a dismissive wave of your hand.

This intrigues the elf even further and he leans closer to you, this time genuinely, which makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. He rests his head on his hand as he watches you, bidding you with a small gesture to continue on. You aren’t interested in a rake you tell yourself, even though he’s somehow even more attractive up close.

“I sell mostly perfumes, soaps, and basic medicinals for ailments in Waterdeep nowadays. Poisons and antidotes aren’t a particularly big seller... but I still prefer to remain up to date on the latest information.”

“Do you know of any poisons that can kill the undead?”

Your brow furrows. What an exceptionally odd and particular question. But then again, this man did promise intellectual conversation, and discussing bread and butter poisons would’ve been far from riveting to you. Perhaps he was truly interested… or at least actually attempting to pursue an intellectual conversation, though most people you interacted with showed much less interest in your craft. At any rate, you were happy for an opportunity to showcase your knowledge.

“A positoxin would do the trick. Difficult to make and difficult to come by, though… and ridiculously expensive, to boot.” You murmur, taking a sip from your newly filled goblet.

Astarion nods and hums, the gears behind his eyes turning and processing thoughts you cannot read. He cocks his head slightly, raising that ridiculous eyebrow in that simultaneously captivating and arrogant way of his. His voice comes out low, tone carrying notes of teasing playfulness. “And what about you, darling? Do you think you’re… skilled enough to make this positoxin?”

“Yes.” You murmur confidently, and yet you blush. You know your skill set to be strong, sure, but it was unusual to be placed in a position where you actually had to display that confidence. Especially to a strange rake you just met that very night.

Astarion laughs again and shakes his head. “Cheeky little thing, aren’t you? Then, tell me how you would go about it.”

You continue on for several minutes, you don’t really know why, apart from the fact that Astarion is absolutely engrossed in everything you’re saying and it’s the first time anyone has actually listened to you prattle on about potions. You inform the elf that the art of positoxins is notoriously difficult and would take several weeks and a handful of hard to come by ingredients to brew just one vial. Astarion bids you to go on as he finishes his goblet, asking all the right questions to keep you talking and soaking up every ounce of information as you continue.

The conversation does not lull; you feel the passion and excitement in your voice grow as you become less guarded. The rake proves to be a wonderful audience, able to follow along with your level of intellect and interject his own knowledge in only the way an educated person could. Yet he was content to let you take the lead and just listen. It was surprisingly refreshing to have someone really hear and understand you… and actually take interest in something you were fascinated by instead of outright dismissing it or just nodding along.

Soon enough the clock tower chimes midnight and your cousin is yelling last call to everyone in the bar, much to the disappointment of the poor drunkards. Astarion’s eyes, previously lulled into a soft and cat-like gaze by your ramblings, snapped into a wide-eyed, forlorn expression. “Gods, is that really the time? I-I have to go.”

He practically jolts out of the seat, his tone hurried and gestures fidgety. “I-it was nice meeting you, uh…”

“I’m Tav.” You respond softly, your eyebrows furrowing as you study the man and his sudden change in demeanor.

“Tav. Yes, lovely to meet you. Perhaps I’ll see you around here tomorrow and you can tell me more about positoxins or perhaps some alchemical cure for vampirism… seems you have a plethora of knowledge to share and I’m all pointy ears.”

Your face falls, and for the first time you realize how much you wish that were a true possibility. “I return to Waterdeep tomorrow, I’m afraid. I can’t leave the shop in the hands of my apprentice for too long.”

Astarion’s expression matches yours and you sigh in disappointment as you drop your hand into your bag and start rustling around inside. Perhaps you’d misjudged the elf and he hadn’t been exactly what he seemed; you’d quite enjoyed his company, in the end. You pull out a small card with your shop address on it; there is a sample vial attached to the card by a jute cord.

“Here. This is my address in Waterdeep. Feel free to write. I come back at least once a year to visit my family… but sometimes more, if there’s something worth coming back for.” Your hint is subtle, but you hope he catches your meaning. Your fingers brush his as he takes the card, and you swear you feel the tingle of connection. Or perhaps that’s the two glasses of wine talking.

The silver-haired elf takes the offering, looking down at the inscription and running his fingers over the embossed words before he tucks everything into his pocket. “And what’s in the vial?”

“A sample. Like I told you, I primarily sell perfumes and soaps nowadays. That mixture is one of my favorites… a delightful combination of bergamot and rosemary... and a secret ingredient I won't name. Try it out and tell me what you think in your letter."

Astarion shakes his head just slightly, almost imperceptibly, a faraway look in his eyes. The clock tower bells chime again, their second call for the midnight hour, and he snaps back into the present. The elf turns to look at you one last time, eyes boring into yours with such shocking intensity. “I really must be going. It was… truly a lovely surprise to meet you, Tav.”

He grabs your hand in his shockingly cold grip, gives it a squeeze, and swiftly exits. You hear the tinkling of the doorbell and watch as the rake runs down the alley before dodging into the shadows and altogether disappearing from view.

You grab the goblet he left behind, along with your own dishes, and walk behind the oak bar to help your cousin close up as the final patrons make their drunken exits in a cacophony of grunts, arguments, and off-tune singing.

“Who was that?” Your cousin asks, nodding his head toward the seats you and Astarion just occupied moments ago as he wipes down the bar and all manner of filth left by the patrons that night. “A potential suitor, perhaps? Your parents will be thrilled.”

“Oh… I think probably not. A rake of a man, to be sure. He was quite cute, though. In another life… I think we could’ve been friends.” You respond as you begin with the dishes, the warmth of the water washing away the coolness imbued in your fingertips from the elf’s touch.

Tomorrow you’ll head home to Waterdeep and the solitude of your apothecary shop. Part of you will wait for a letter that doesn't show, and you'll shove your disappointment deep into the back of your mind, never once admitting it to yourself. But fate spins along as it should, and a few years from now you'll be standing on an unfamiliar beach after a horrible crash, the familiar scent of rosemary and bergamot drifting in the air.

——-

A/N: This was originally meant to be a one shot, but I loved the premise of the piece so much that I wanted to try and turn it into a series. Read the first chapter here.

[tsykku]

I am having q!tubbo brain rot so have a slice of it.

I am so curious as to which direction Tubbo will take his character. Because nothing what q!tubbo does seems malicious or sometimes even intentional yet so many people take issue with him or his behaviour. And he is somewhat aware of that while at the same time, completely oblivious as to why or how deep the conflict goes.

You have the federation who cannot stand his arse. Who we know is paying extra attention to Tubbo and wants to arrest him the minute he even does something slightly illegal. While they have not arrested him yet, it is only a matter of time. So what do they do in the meantime? They use him as a scapegoat to nerf certain game mechanics or punish him extra harshly in comparison to others who did the exact same things or worse. Yet for some reason, the other qsmp members are under the impression that Tubbo never gets punished and that he is solely to blame for the create nerf, breeding animosity.

Then next, you have the antagonistic fights with Etoiles which started carefree and rather playful but now have been escalating in q!Etoiles telling the codes that Tubbo works with the federation. To be honest, Tubbo is absolutely partly to blame for this one with his cheeky comments to Etoiles about losing his fight with the code. However, it adds another dynamic layer of conflict to the situation.

Finally, you have the vendetta of Bad and Aypierre against Tubbo due to the controversial Tubhole. You can argue all day long about the logistics of Tubhole and whether Bad and Pierre are valid in their objections against it. But the facts remain that it is within Tubbo's rights to do so and that they have not given him the grace period to let him make it into a good build. It literally is still a work in process that has been going on for less than 24 Minecraft hours. And even if it turns out to be ugly, the fact that Tubbo has been building the Tubhole with only create machines is fucking cool and makes it worth it (in my opinion). Moreover, Bad and Pierre both have similar big projects and their concern that it is different because of the close proximity to spawn feels a bit hypocritical as there are other (big) projects near spawn that cause similar amounts of lag.

And now this vendetta has gone from convincing other islanders of how Tubbo must be stopped to them framing Tubbo for the kidnapping of Ron to Fred. A being that everyone on the island at this point knows is important to Tubbo. A relationship which is one of the only ones Tubbo has left, besides the morning crew. We already know how much the relationship between Fred and Tubbo affects Tubbo's emotions so what will losing Fred or their trust do to him?

So now you have this huge cluster of events that puts q!Tubbo in a situation where everyone is against him, the federation, the code entities and most of the islanders as well. An exception can be made for the morning crew however they do not seem to take Tubbo or his concerns seriously, treating it like the mischief and matters of a kid.

And most interestingly, it is still not clear what makes Tubbo so special. Is it his use of create mod? Aypierre, Ramon and Dapper do something similar. Is it his curiosity and distrust of the federation? Cellbit, Badboyhalo en Bagi are right there with him. Is it his apparent greed or selfishness with regard to resources? It is not like he has never shared them or that gathering resources is sole motivation. Is it his knowledge of Minecraft mechanics to break the lore/server? Philza and his fourth wall breaking say hello as does Aypierre. Is it his age then? His relentless attitude to anything that catches his attention? His endless curiosity?

It will be so interesting to see where all these points of contention will lead to and how q!Tubbo will react to it or change as a result of it. Currently, his only concerns are the potential romance with Fred and finishing the Tubhole so that he can get along with everyone again. So he clearly does not know yet how much trouble he truly is in or how the cards are stacked against him...

[silkkorchid]

What went down in TWST rp in a week-

4/27 - 5/3

Things are going missing across the dorms I presume. (Better not fall to your death people)

Someone placed a cat spawner in every NRC dorm and probably at campus…

There was knock off version of the Great Seven in anime…

NRC Book Club, Trystia, has became one with nature.

NRC Book Club seems to be setting up Trystia for something ~

The rebellion against Crowley failed, and Lucius got ban from NRC. MAY HE SNEAK BACK IN!

A beef between @royalswordacademyconfession 🐰 got beef with @nrc-therapist .

RSA confession mod 📖 got a boyfriend! (Meanwhile us single pringles are just looking at the lovebirds)

⬇️

Nvm mod 📖’s boyfriend died…

It’s confirm, Crowley cannot use technology correctly.

Crowley disown one of his children.

Lucius (@lucius-official) made bbq fish fillets, I wonder how it would taste like.

Lucius is dressed up fancy~

Professor Crewel is allergic to cats, and a cat pushed him off.

Hedgehogs are gone from Heartslabyul. Well, everyone there is gonna have their heads off.

Trey didn’t realize there was an uprising against Crowley, so he kinda in disbelief.

Trey loosing his shit thanks to someone placing a Cat Spawner.

Trey’s sanity is on a thread that can easily break at any given moment-

Deuce got addicted to coffee now…

Deuce made someone to a size of a doll since he dropped a cauldron on them.

Deuce became an egg-

Cater and Vil getting somewhat along??? What did I missed there?

Cater cheesed Professor Crewel, he dead…

Ruggie being a taste tester for the 1st years of Diasomnia.

Ruggie lied about his age several times during to being looking young, which he took advantage to it.

Azul being embarrassed by the leak baby photos that been going on.

There is two Azul now. Oh dear…

Kalim at it buying random stuff but, this time is… bird seed?

Another Jamil came, and he isn’t too happy knowing he got a child despite being busy…

Vil being disappointed in people, classic.

Vil being shocked there is a Cat Spawner and hoping it was in a Minecraft server, it wasn’t..

Vil on the look out of Epel eating something that he shouldn’t have.

Idia got Arlecchino, but the cost is the fact he is now broke-

Idia loosing his mind with cat photos.

Someone called Idia a walking campfire.

Malleus got another child.?

Malleus got turned into a cat box-

Silver still being a decent person in NRC

Silver had been buried from several cats.

Cheka is gonna break Ruggie’s back soon.

Cheka got grounded for playing a long “hide and seek” game…

Che’nya(@your-local-grinning-cat) wants to adopt Gidel

Mr. Rosehearts is disappointed in Ms. Rosehearts’ actions. + his son in his current family is top 3 in RSA.

Yuu got a bear. Nice 👍

Grim trying to show off that he can read and write(more over type) but failing a bit…

A pomefiore student (@pomefiorestudent-a)made their debut! Enjoy this recognition for being here.

Castor(@castaway-achlys) and Atamai (@atamai-twst) are having beef with each other..?

@blind0raven is going to murder someone…

Castor cannot do laundry.

@quartztwst in jail.

quartztwst being accused of several crimes

It’s confirm, @the-possum-of-rsa is in Sebek’s walls majority of the time-

Althea and Aclestris came back after a very long nap or break???

@jaytoonarchives is hosting a party at Ramshackle! And the children are invited…

@comediano-o got catnip, better keep it away from Lucius and Grim…

R. C. and Yuu is planning to prank Crowley within his office.

Atami got Trystia as his date for prom!

B0njourbeach showed that Leona is bald without his wig.

B0njourbeach is making cursed photos of NRC students…

Serena(@imafrealinrainbow478484), don’t use the decay incantation…

-

“Armaros here, I would like to remind you all that this series just has one person involved. So if you think that 🍮 missed something, tell her and she will probably put it in a reblog post. Ok, I’m gonna go now. You will see me later on.” -💫💤

[idontwannabeyouanymore]

welcome to my blog ♡

-- tw! ee dee shit --

♡ hello to everyone except f4tph0bics and p3d0ph1les! im kate and i'm 21! first things first; if you are a minor, DNI, also i will not follow you back if you are under 18 or don't have your age in your bio or your pinned post!

♡ i absolutely do not encourage or support 3d's but i understand how having this blog could make it seem as such. im solely here because it is an emotional and somewhat creative outlet for me (a safe space if u will) so I BEG OF U don't ruin this for me

i don't really fw m3ansp0 whatsoever, i don't find it helpful and i want this space to be as positive as it can be (for an e4t1ng d1s0rder blog lmfao).

about meeeee ♡

straight, she/her, pro for me not thee!

im a full-time college student at an SEC school and i'm also a server!

im obssessed with all different genres of music (i dont listen to lana but i understand the lore), i love nature, and i like doing anything im immediately good at? idk

most of the time im like sylvia plath. bella in new moon. idk im just a naturally pensive person and i've always been a deep thinker but my bubbly personality clashes with that so people often refer to me as the fun/funny friend LMAO

stats?

height: 5'7" | 67 in | ~171 cm |

starting weight: 147 lb

cw: 139 lb (21 yrs)

lowest: 126 lb (20 yrs)

highest: 181 lb (17 yrs)

goal: 125 lb by oct 27 2024

ultimate goal: 119 (the lowest i'll go)

finally i just wanted to say that i do not intend to let this disease/disorder/illness or whatever u wanna call it, k1ll me. i know at the end of the day that me and every single one of u have so much more purpose and worth than we see in ourselves. ana, for me personally, is mostly a result of being put on adderall when i was 17. i now turn to these tactics bc its the fastest way i've ever seen results for myself and it allows me to feel in control and 1,000,000x more confident. i do plan to get better one day but not until i reach my goals!

[cattimeswithjellie]

Stream Recap, ZombieCleo, 6/09/24

((Since the first few of these I did seem to be going over well so far, I'm doing some more and we'll see how it goes. I am going to call them Recaps from now on though, because in almost every case I'm working off the VOD, pausing, going back to figure out who said and did what, etc. This Recap is from Cleo's Twitch VOD for Sunday, 6/09. I watched the stream live but parts of it were moving much too fast to note down accurately!))

0:00 Cleo goes live. She is on the Hermitcraft server, in the front yard of her base. She says hello to everyone, especially the weirdos in chat. She realizes the chat has been left in emote-only mode and turns them back on. She tells Chat she has just gone through her mail and there is a lot of it. She got two horn-of-the-month club deliveries at once, and she needs to meet with Joel about armor stand work. She has a sand and gravel coupon and a Mission Possible mission, so much to do!

1:40 Cleo goes into the house, warning Chat as she goes that she has “lored” in here. There are eight books she has written just for this room, all for the lore. She goes back outside and spots Cakebot on the roof, then laughs about how she always sees the bot and, thanks to the long distance and long nametag, thinks it’s Scar sneaking up on her.

2:40 Time to get started! Cleo shows off the Tower, which needs to be dug out into a tower base. They say they are actually working today which doesn’t happen often, especially this past week or two. Cleo has been too sick to reasonably work and so has been taking a sensible rest. A chatter asks if Cleo is going to die today. Cleo says they are feeling better, somewhat, and not going to die. The cats are fighting in the background.

4:20 A chatter asks why their message was deleted. Cleo tells them to read the rules. She greets Cam the mod.

5:30 A chatter engages Cleowo mode. Cleowo interacts with the chat and thanks subs. Today is the first day Cleo has been feeling well enough to go outside in awhile. She quotes The Little Mermaid as a prose poem. The Little Mermaid was the first movie Cleo got to watch in the cinema, and that’s how old she is. A chatter plays a spicy jelly bean. Cleo says they also moved into the new office, which is mostly clean and painted and pretty.

7:45 Cleo leaves to get tissues and wishes everyone a happy Pride. She needs birch wood for the build and goes to find it in the basement. Cleowo mode ends. She thanks subs and donos as she navigates through her base.

9:20 Back at the tower build, Cleo needs to figure out something to do with the roof. They contemplate maybe blocking it off entirely. Chat is trying to remember their first Disney movies. Cleo assures them that this is not a quiz and they don’t need to remember or share that information. ((For the record: the animated The Little Mermaid released in the UK in October 1990. This probably makes Cleo slightly younger than the livestreamer, whose first Disney theater experience was Who Framed Roger Rabbit.))

10:30 A chatter asks if this will be on the test next week. Cleo adopts an extremely ominous voice to reply that nothing will be on the test next week because “NEXT WEEK DOESN’T EXIST!… because it’s an abstract concept.” A chatter plays a cheerful musical sting that makes the whole thing sound like the last punchline in a sitcom.

10:40 A chatter says they will not disclose their first movie because they are too old. Cleo says they are not going to force anyone to disclose anything in chat, movie telling is not mandatory. Everyone is cool here, no narcs allowed in the chat. The mod reminds Chat not to get specific about ages. Cleo agrees and promises that one of these days she will remember to support the mods on that issue, but possibly not soon. Cleo lines up a zinger on herself, delivers it, says that was mean and blames chat for it.

12:00 Back to design talk. Chat continues talking about movies and theatrical productions. Cleo removes most of the mangrove from inside the tower in order to replace it with sandstone. She agrees that the Lion King musical is great and reminds Chat that she is very tired. Being sarcastic all the time can be a problem for her because people don’t always understand it and can become offended very quickly. Chat likes that Cleo is sarcastic. Cleo points out that the people who do get offended tend to leave and then badmouth her on the internet. Her first inclination is to ask them to come back, but then she realizes they would not do well in her chat anyway and so she doesn’t care very much.

15:00 Cleo tells a story of someone who didn’t understand their sarcasm, who got very offended when they said Cleo was wonderful and she replied “I know.” Chat is definitely on Cleo’s side for this one. A chatter says content creators don’t owe the attention of sub thanks to their audience, but Cleo believes that it is important to thank donos and subs, though sometimes she does miss things. She says she is known for being a screwup, even as she misjudges the blocks she is placing for her new wall. She sighs.

17:00 A chatter asks if Cleo is doing anything for Pride. They answer that they do not like in-person events because they are not good with large groups of people, but does participate in Pride things online. Being a member of the community, they feel, gives them a pass on having to do too much stuff. Cleo did enjoy MCC Pride. The tower area is clean now, but needs shaping and a couple of floors.

19:00 Cleo organizes her inventory for building. She has a lot of stuff she doesn’t want or need. She finds sixteen anvils and wonders sarcastically where those could have come from. She needs spruce but doesn’t think she has any. A chatter asks why she doesn’t use background music. Cleo explains that she has an Epidemic Music license for her main channel but not one for the VODs channel where this will be uploaded, and YouTube Music has neither sufficient music nor a good player. Other solutions for royalty-free music has gotten streams muted in the past because of YouTube’s overenthusiastic AI. They tell chat that if Chat has any good suggestions, they are listening. A chatter suggests using the Hotdogs on Your Face song exclusively, but Cleo jokingly claims not to have enough cards for that. Cleo has forgotten what they are doing.

23:50 Cleo thanks the subs. She remembers that she was putting in floors. A chatter plays the Hotdogs On Your Face song. Cleo is now hyperaware of the lack of background music. She says that she is not going to upload this VOD, so she will see about doing some Epidemic music. She asks chat for what genre they want. Suggestions include “Silence,” “Lofi,” “Elevator Muzak,” and “Jazzercise.” She chooses “beach destination chill.” A chatter plays “Hug a Creeper.” Cleo says they’ll get there. A chatter asks Cleo to give some building techniques. Cleo suggests making a build more interesting by starting with a basic structure and then adding purpose-based additions. That is the easiest advice they can give, they are all tapped out for building advice. The chatter admits they were hoping to get some building skill through osmosis. Cleo sadly informs them that she has tried the same thing many times by sitting next to other hermits, but it does not work.

26:30 Cleo goes back to assembling supplies. Pixlriffs raids into the stream. Cleo welcomes the raiders and tells them that in this stream they are being obnoxious and facetious and other ous words. A chatter comments “So a normal Cleo stream?” and they respond “No, this one’s got music in.” They try to build a staircase in the tower and decide a ladder is a much better choice for the space involved. Pix’s chat tell Cleo that Pix was playing Elden Ring, a game Cleo knows nothing about. She hopes they had a fun time.

28:00 Etho is mentioned in chat (due to the “Ladders” nickname and his love of ladders). Cleo tells the chat she didn’t know about the ladders thing for a long time after meeting Etho. She didn’t know Etho before Hermitcraft and thus is much less in awe of him than folks who literally grew up watching his videos. She is aggressively _not_ an Etho fangirl. A chatter says they heard he was washed up. Cleo laughs and jokes that he washes up for supper sometimes. Chat is very enthusiastic about Etho, trying to counter Cleo’s amused dismissiveness with a list of Etho accomplishments. This is difficult because Cleo is not an Etho viewer and does not do redstone and is thus unimpressed by the Etho Hopper Clock.

30:00 Cleo decides to create a secret room to avoid having to deal with the unusually-shaped space at the edge of her base, while simultaneously trying to convince Chat that Etho is Just Some Dude. Chat is having none of it. Chat is also very in favor of Etho and Cleo as a Life Series comedic duo. A chatter mentions that Impulse also has a common redstone device named after him, the sorting system. Cleo declares this fact “cool” and reiterates that the things they know about the Hermits could fill a very small book, or maybe a pamphlet.

32:00 Cleo thanks the donos and subs, and makes a few more Etho jokes. They work on coming up with a design for the entrance to the secret room. Chat is still in Etho-mode and suggests maybe Cleo is secretly obssessed with Etho. Cleo points out that they didn’t even bring Etho up, only responded to Chat bringing him up in the first place. She assures Chat her days of not taking Chat seriously are coming to a middle. She blames Chat fully for this.

35:00 Cleo mentions new TCG cards are coming. Two of Cleo’s cards are already done and they are very good! A chatter activates Hydration time and everyone has a drink. Another chatter asks why Etho fans are here and not on Etho’s stream. Cleo laughs and asks why Etho fans are so obsessed with her. A chatter activates Posture Check Time. Cleo’s TCG cards are always good because they choose amazing artists, but they will not say too much so as not to give anything away.

37:30 A chatter asks how Cleo is feeling after Doc’s pigicide. Cleo answers “Litigious.” The tower elevator is coming together and needs signage. A chatter asks what her favorite minigame is, besides Decked Out. Cleo points out that they do not play very many minigames so don’t really have a favorite. They put signs in the elevator shaft to hold back the water.

40:00 A chatter asks what kinds of builds and genres Cleo would like to try in the future. Cleo says she mostly just builds what she is feeling at the time and doesn’t care too much about overarching themes or what other people think about it. She begins filling the elevator with water source blocks. A chatter says the build reminds them of the Owl House. Cleo does not know what the Owl House is.

42:00 Xisuma joins the server, says hello via in-game chat, and asks what Cleo is up to. Cleo tells Xisuma she is finishing her builds before Thursday, then explains to Chat that Things are happening on Thursday. Xisuma asks Cleo if Thursday is a secret. Cleo is not sure but says the details are probably a secret. Chat suspects that it is either a court case or base tours. Xisuma asks if Cleo needs anything, but they reply they are nearly ready and just have to finish building.

44:20 A chatter say that it is not difficult to guess what is happening, Cleo invites them to actually guess, if it is so easy. She says no special guests and no court case is happening, just Hermits doing Hermit stuff. A chatter says Joe mentioned base tours after the Hermitcraft meeting. Another chatter guesses update day, but Cleo explains that only Xisuma cares about update day. Xisuma messages again to offer wood and Cleo asks for spruce for the floors.

46:30 Cleo finishes the elevator and jumps down for more supplies. A chatter plays the Feral Ghoul sound from Fallout and startles her. Cub logs onto the server and exchanges greetings.

47:30 Cleo says there are a lot of things that need to be figured out right now, like whether a particle effect from ender chests goes through slabs. They currently have a floor that seems to consist of dark gray wool, carpets, and ender chests. Cleo takes up some of the wool and carpet and begins placing slabs over the chests. The answer appears to be “kind of.” A few particles are making their way through the wood slabs. A chatter who is the maker of the Armor Poser mod proudly announces that the mod is ready for 1.21 and hopes Cleo is excited. Cleo congratulates them and endorses the mod to Chat but says she has no input on when the Hermitcraft server will actually update. Chat notices that Cleo has not confirmed or denied base tours as a possibility. Cleo says they can see why chat might think that and continues not to confirm or deny. Xisuma drops off some spruce and flies away like the Lumber Fairy. Cleo declares that X is the best and has forgotten again what she is doing. A chatter plays Sour Jellybean.

50:40 Cleo remembers it is time to Hug a Creeper. They set spawn and fly into the air, falling from a high place. They collect up their bits while gloating about being able to legally claim sour jellybeans as a business expense. Pearl signs on to the server

51:50 Cleo responds to a chat suggestion that trapdoors might let in more particles than slabs do. They make a bunch of spruce trapdoors from some of Xisuma’s logs and place some of them down, but it’s hard to see the particles in the current testing area. Cleo begins picking up the floor to move elsewhere and mentions receiving a troubling message from Pearl in the mail. She flies down to her mailbox and shows the large quantity of mail parcels she talked about at the beginning of the stream, including one that contains a single block of purpur and requests that Hermits buy more purpur from Pearl. Cleo confesses that she doesn’t like purpur at all but feels like she should maybe buy some from Pearl anyway as she clearly seems to be suffering. Chat somerwhat incoherently tries to inform Cleo that the parcel is from Joel, who lost a bet with Pearl and was forced to advertise the Purr-Purr shop and raise sales for Pearl. Cleo eventually parses what Chat is trying to say and is no longer concerned about Pearl’s message.

55:00 Cleo goes back to picking up the trial floor from the wizard tower. Pearl writes in the in-game chat that Chat has been losing her sales since 2024. Cleo tells her that purpur is gross, but because it is Pearl selling it, they will buy some. Cleo likes the look of spruce trapdoors over ender chests and decides to buy purpur in celebration. Chat asks what time it is for Pearl. Cleo believes it’s around 6am, Pearl-time. Pearl says she has a minigame to build. Cleo tries to convince her she does not have to build minigames at 6am.

57:10 Cleo arrives at the purr-purr bus and admires the new dumpster, saying it’s a good addition. She doesn’t really understand how Iskall can hate diorite so much when purpur exists and is a much better target. They shake their head over the prices in the shop but buy a bunch of chorus fruit to make end rods, plus some end stone. According to Cleo, buying purpur-adjacent things definitely counts as supporting the shop. Pearl is grateful. Cleo says that Pearl is undercharging and pays extra for all the chorus fruit. As Cleo flies away she notes that between herself and Cub, they have most of the server’s money right now.

59:30 A chatter asks what the bottom half of the vTuber looks like. Cleo adjusts their stream position to make the entire vTuber figure visible. Chat is impressed that Cleo has legs. FalseSymmetry, in stream chat, comments “omg legs (in caps)” to circumvent the stream rule against all-caps. Cleo shows off the limited set of movements available to the full-body figure, then puts the figure back in the usual place.

1:01:00 A chatter mentions that the vtuber figure can walk and can be used to replace the default character in certain games such as Valheim. Cleo confirms that it can be used for some games, like Valorant, and she could stomp around in there as Cleo if she wanted to. She cannot use the model on VR games because it is above the poly count. It’s primarily intended for vtubing. Using it for VR would be pretty rough on game performance.

1:02:15 Someone plays the Poe Poe Siren (Skizz singing the Poe Poe song) outside Cleo’s base. It is definitely Scar, who just signed onto the server. Cleo fetches their own horns and plays Skizz’s “Dang it, Scar!” horn, then yells for Scar to come back with a warrant. They go back inside just in time for Scar to play Xisuma’s “This is Illegal!” horn.

1:03:00 Cleo realizes that this is a war. She plays Etho’s “There was some kidnapping involved” horn.

Scar retaliates with his own “Trader Scar’s not going to eat you” horn.

Cleo plays Grian’s “I’m eating a curly-whirly right now” horn.

Scar plays Impulse’s “Say it and we’ll bleep it out” horn.

Cleo plays her own “Oh no-woh, not Joe-wo” horn.

Scar plays Ren’s “I’d like to see your butt, please” horn.

1:04:10 Cleo yells to Scar that she has run out of horns and demands to know where he is. Scar flies overhead and repeats the Ren horn, followed immediately by the Michael Scott “I declare Bankruptcy” horn. Cleo giggles and declares she needs to buy more horns, then remembers she has an ace in the hole. She heads for her mailbox, finds and plays the “I see you” horn from the Horn of the Month Club.

1:05:15 False logs into the server just long enough to play her own “OMG hiiiiii” horn, then logs out. Cleo play’s Gem’s “That’s Amazing!” horn. Th3Pooka raids into the stream.

1:05:45 Cleo thanks the raiders and welcomes subs. They have once again forgotten what they are doing. Chat reminds them that they are working on flooring.

1:07:00 Someone plays a horn from The Office outside. Cleo plays the “I see you” horn, explaining that even if she doesn’t see him, she has to play the horn. She returns to working on her floors. A chatter asks what program the vTuber model was made in. Cleo does not know but points the chatter to the link for the designer, MotherLyra. Zedaph suffocates in a wall.

1:08:20 Someone plays the MGM Lion horn, startling Cleo. They follow it up with a horn (maybe Etho or xB?) saying “I chop, I dig, your mom is really big.” Cleo plays the “Dang it, Scar” horn again. Someone plays Scar’s “Take a look at how big my booty is” horn. Cleo plays Tango’s “I see you” horn again and yells to Scar that she only has limited horns . Scar, who is stream-sniping, disclaims responsibility in in-game chat, even as someone plays Iskall’s “What are you doing?” horn. Cleo guesses it must be Cub. Cleo decides it’s either Scar or Cub, or both, or Pearl, or Tango, or Xisuma. Scar asks Cub in chat where the alien horn is.

1:09:50 Cleo attempts to go back to work, while admitting that they are not trying very hard to work. A chatter asks why Cleo has so many ender chests. Cleo says it is for the particle effects, then jokes it is because they have an addiction but most people don’t comment on it. In game chat, Cub tells Scar that the alien horn should be at the shop unless someone already bought it. Cleo wants to know more about the alien horn. Outside the window, Pearl plays Scar’s booty horn again and flies away. Cleo plays the “I see you” horn again. Zedaph suffocates in a wall again.

1:11:10 Cleo bemoans her own lack of horns, while Scar suggests that the alien horn has probably been sold. A chatter plays a scary noise, but Cleo is currently immune thanks to all the horn shenanigans. They go back to work, declaring loudly that they are feeling bullied, and it is because the hermits are bullying them. It’s not just one of those feelings, it is definitely bullying. Pearl assures Cleo in chat that it is only love. Cleo replies that one can bully with love, and invites Chat to “Ask me how I know.”

1:12:10 Cleo asks Cub if he’s done the Xisuma legs horn yet. Cub says not yet, but maybe for next batch. Cleo is pleased about that possibility. They want to hear the legs horn, because it is weird. False rejoins the server. Xisuma, who has been silent for a long while, asks what about his legs in game chat.

Cleo tells him they’re very pretty. Cub explains that Xisuma made a remark that tickled Cleo. X says thanks and that he never skips leg day. Cleo chuckles and mutters “nerd”

1:13:30 Cleo confesses proudly in game chat that they always skip leg day. Scar thinks someone got the alien horn from the shop and appears uncertain about what to do. A chatter plays Xisuma’s “Legs Legs Legs LEGS!” sound, which Cleo had forgotten was an available bits-reward sound on their channel. Scar plays the “Darth Vader Breathing” horn but Cleo is distracted. A chatter asks where the Legs soundbyte is from, and Cleo tells them it’s from MCC Pride where they were on a team together. Scar plays the Michael Scott “Inside Joke” horn. Cleo greets Scar and/or Pearl, possibly both or neither, whoever is out to get her, specifically.

1:15:15 Cleo talks about MCC Pride and hopes no one was expecting them to win. Scott has not officially told Cleo that they are being added to teams as a nerf, but that it’s just generally known. Cleo’s role in MCC is “ballast.” Scar asks Pearl if she bought the Alien horn, Pearl does not know what he is talking about. Someone plays the “Hello there!” horn. Cleo runs outside yelling “Oh my god, hiiii!” but no one is there. Cleo is disappointed, and asks that whoever is blowing horns at least say who they are. Chat believes it’s definitely Scar. Cleo plays the “Dang it Scar!” horn again.

1:16:45 Zedaph falls out of the world. Xisuma describes this as Zed doing Zed things. Cleo agrees and says that’s pretty much his job. A chatter asks Cleo what is their favorite “Cleo thing” to do. They say sleeping, mostly. A chatter asks if Cleo has any information on books or info about lgbtq+ issues. Cleo says not really, they don’t read up on it much, just experience it from their own perspective. They refer the chatter back to the chat for recommendations.

1:19:00 A chatter asks why the floor only has a certain number of ender chests under it. Cleo explains that it’s going to be a summoning circle, and the ender chests are in a circle under the floor to provide particles in that exact spot. A chatter asks about using a spore blossom for more effect, but Cleo explains the range is too wide. A chatter plays sour jellybean. Another chatter plays a door noise. Cleo turns the music back on. A chatter notes that Cleo now has a convenient crawlspace under the floor. Cleo agrees, but says they did not plan it that way, because planning is for losers. She parenthetically adds that she is a loser. Zedaph blames Tango for his untimely death in in-game chat. Cleo agrees that most things are Tango’s fault.

1:21:30 A chatter asks how people are playing noises and jellybeans, Cleo explains the Streamloots program. Another chatter admits that they have read a great deal of fiction and anecdotes about the lgbtq+ experience, but not much nonfiction and nothing to really recommend. Cleo agrees that this seems pretty common, and talks about how if mainstream sources won’t provide gayness, the community will make it for themselves. A chatter plays Favorite Things, and Cleo says mostly intangible things, like the way you feel in the morning when the sun is rising and you know people you hate are suffering. She says she doesn’t understand why people think she’s so sinister all the time. She also likes petrichor.

1:23:45 Cleo begins texturing the new floor with slightly lower trapdoors in places. They talk with Chat about queerness in history and how it is difficult to know exactly what it was like in the past because so many things were different. They reorganize their inventory again and go into the mines to find a box of crystals for decoration. Cleo is too tired for in-depth discussion on these serious topics and just needs to get some crystals. A chatter puts the chat into emote-only mode, Cleo refers to that as the “Cleo says stop” button.

1:28:00 Cleo finds the geode and begins harvesting crystals. They love amethyst noises, and wants to put amethyst under carpet someplace in the build. There are not as many crystals as Cleo was hoping for, and they take some time to free up more faces on the crystal-producing blocks. “Crystals are going to become important!” she teases. She agrees with chat that amethyst needs more block variations, since it is a far nicer color than purpur. The crystal noises are very soothing.

1:31:20 Cleo says that the most annoying thing you can call a geologist is a “crystal girlie.” Chat does not understand the term. A chatter says their geologist friend doesn’t like being called a rock-licker. Cleo says rock-licker is fine and if they don’t want to be called a rock-licker they should stop licking rocks. Cleo explains that a crystal girlie is someone who believes in crystals for healing and energy alignment, rather than studying them scientifically. Chat has a discussion about eating rocks. Cleo advises that many rocks are inert and can be licked, but that one should not lick rocks instead of taking medicine. Some rocks should not be licked at all. Cleo specially advises Chat not to eat uranium and suggests (then immediately unsuggests) that they look up radium girls. ((A sad story from history of some workers who became the reason for later regulations.))

1:36:00 Cleo transforms her crystals into “charged crystals” by renaming them on an anvil, then puts them in a similarly-transformed “Lead-lined Storage Crate.” The box goes into the new tower room for decoration. A chatter plays Teeny-tiny Zombie Cleo, Cleo sings the song. Cleo looks for one of the lore books in the library room that has information about crystals. They do not find it, but find a note about crystals in a cupboard. Pearl asks in chat for verdant froglights. Joe has been buying all Etho’s stock, but Cleo has some in storage. She invites Pearl over to get some. A chatter plays spicy jellybean.

1:41:10 Pearl arrives and yells hello. Cleo provides her with several stacks of verdant froglights, even though Pearl only truly needed four. Pearl is happy for the extra froglights because she likes the green tinged light. Cleo says green-tinge is the best tinge. Pearl says that pearlescent froglights are also pretty great. Cleo says they’re not her favorite. Pearl says she’ll let that slide because Cleo has been so generous and flies away. Cleo blesses Pearl’s little cotton socks and calls her adorable.

1:42:30 A chatter says that Pearl was their first introduction to Hermitcraft. Cleo says that is valid but also unusual, Pearl is not one of the more common vectors into Hermitcraft. A chatter plays Giant. The first chatter explains that they started watching in S8 with Pearl and Gem and their friends. Cleo is happy about how the community has grown. They also can’t wait for the new paintings. Cleo creates a painting to cover the secret door, but does not particularly like the only design that covers the space.

1:45:00 Cleo declares it’s time to clean up the roof, because it looks like arse. Pretty arse, but arse. They are not worried about structural integrity because magic, but some crossbeams would look nice. Cleo says that sometimes it is hard to explain their thought process while building because sometimes there is no thought, just building. They begin adding crossbeams to the interior roof and talking about building process or the lack thereof.

1:49:40 A chatter asks if Cleo has a favorite fan song. Cleo says no, they have not heard many and generally try to keep their research in a bubble. A chatter plays sour jellybean. Cleo says she will watch most Hermit stuff, but the fan stuff can be biting. She wants to keep just a little sliver of joy in her life. She goes on to clarify that “I’ve got two diamonds” and other songs written just for her are exceptions, but fan stuff can be mean in general and she avoids it. A chatter mentions that Doc talks about fanfiction on stream all the time. Cleo says Doc is insane. They don’t need to worry about what Doc is doing, because it is always THE WRONG THING. Chat is not happy about the idea of anyone being mean to Cleo. Cleo clarifies that in fan spaces, fans tend to assume she will not be there, and they tend to speak their minds bluntly. When they’re talking about the character, it’s just opinion, but when they talk about her as a person, it’s hard to deal with. Cleo does not fault the fans, it is a difference of perception between Cleo as the person and Cleo as the character. What they are doing is not harmful in itself, but Cleo seeing it is harmful because it makes her feel bad and she has learned to avoid it. At the same time, 99.9% of the fandom is lovely.

1:55:20 A chatter says their partner is trying to watch every hermit, but doing so during Decked out in S9 got pretty tiring. Cleo does not recommend trying to watch every Hermit because that is too much and too difficult. They realize that many people like other hermits more than they like them, and they’re okay with that. They will never be everyone’s favorite and that is fine. Pearl, in in-game chat, agrees that Hermitcraft is fantastic because of its wide variety of creator styles. Cleo has a hard time finding her saplings and wonders if they might be in the orphan-crushing machine. Chat is confused about the orphan-crushing machine, which appears to be a bonemeal farm. A chatter plays Hydration Time.

1:58:00 Cleo reiterates that they avoid fan spaces and explains that fans sometimes just say rude things on the internet. She can know that a take is bad (“Cleo doesn’t deserve to be on Hermitcraft’) but that doesn’t mean it won’t sting. Pearl chimes in with a story about a Tiktok she saw where all the comments were kind except the ones about her. Cleo is instantly sympathetic and assures Pearl she is wonderful while threatening the lives of the haters. Tango alerts the server to potential lag incoming. Cleo says she doesn’t mind living and letting live with people who are mean to her, but nobody can say bad things about Pearl. Pearl says that most of the community is wonderful and she’s just getting used to living with the bad part. Cleo asks for advice about how to do that, because she has been on Hermitcraft for nine seasons and it is still hard. Cleo talks about the fine line between not feeding the trolls and not clapping back when it would be better to do so. A chatter plays Favorite Things. Cleo says it’s the mail system, because they had nine messages today and it was cool.

2:03:00 Pearl messages that when she starts feeling bad about fan negativity, she reminds herself that she shouldn’t care about the opinion of anybody she wouldn’t be willing to take advice from. It is silly to let the words of the haters have any impact. Cleo agrees that this is valid. They would not listen to those people’s advice, and would also probably say something very nasty to them. A chatter plays gross jellybean, much to Cleo’s chagrin. A chatter plays Giant Zombie. The jellybean is bubblegum, but Cleo would’ve actually preferred the mouthwash alternative. Bubble gum is a bad flavor.

2:05:50 Cleo wonders sometimes if she goes a bit too far, and mentions she might have been a bit too enthusiastic in verbal sparring with Doc. They reiterate the information about their TCG cards and the new expansion. The crossbeams are almost finished, and Cleo adds some above the windows. A chatter says they would not want to make Cleo mad, and Cleo confesses their bark is much worse than their bite. She also does fake anger a lot, because it is funny. When Doc killed the pig, she did get a bit too into the bit, but it was okay in the end. Doc shouldn’t have killed the pig! It’s okay, Cleo says, because he’ll suffer. A chatter asks what an HHH stream is. Cleo explains it is Hermits Helping Hermits and they haven’t done one for awhile because they and Joe are both busy. Cleo thinks she may have frightened Doc just a little bit and laughs about it.

2:10:10 A chatter plays Cleowo. Cleo says she doesn’t think Doc’s scared of her, more that he felt sort of guilty when the pig thing turned out bigger than he intended it to be. A chatter suggests that Doc didn’t realize Cleo was serious when they said they were attached to the pig. Cleo agrees that’s exactly what happened. Cleo has finished one building and has another one started, but they need to decide what is going to go inside on each floor. She takes a tour through the building. A chat plays emote only mode.

2:13:20 Cleo says it’s about time to call it a stream. They switch to big Vtuber mode and thank the chat for subs and donos. They insist that nobody sends them anymore firstborn children because they already have too many of them. Cleo raids into a non-hermit friend and ends the stream.

[salemcantupdate]

I find it really fascinating that both Spirits and the Tranquil are somewhat autistic coded, especially since the Tranquil can be cured by Spirits ; Autism for Autism as it were

But like, every spirit we've met has called out to me as autistic (sans Wynne/Faith, which is fitting because out of every spirit-ish character, Wynne is the least spirit - she herself even notes that it's like Faith is just a wisp in her now

Meanwhile Anders and Justice First of all, Justice? Already autism coded on his own, not to mention that fact that those with autism tend to have a very strong sense of justice and have a tendency to have a rather black and white view of things, preferring a solid "right" and "wrong". If they're able to accept shades of grey, they tend to have a very strict set of rules around that grey, plus certain things that are always no matter what 'good' or 'bad' Anders himself I don't think is autism coded ; awakening I think he's closer to ADHD (inattentive type, which is interesting cause it lends well to another theory of mine that Anders is woman-coded) and da2 closer to bipolar

Then there is Cole and Solas (I will fight people on Solas being a spirit, I fully think a reveal will involve that the Elvhen were all spirits with bodies in some complicated and fascinating method that isn't really possession - and that specifically Solas was a spirit of Wisdom turned from his purpose... ANYWAYS) Solas I don't think I can put better than someone else did ; @isobellenoire and her Solas is Neurodiverse post And also if someone tries to tell me Cole isn't autism coded I'll shank them (if however you instead want to ask about it for more details, feel free)

Anyways, had to get this out there (I did originally talk about it on a dragon age server, so if you recognize any of this now you don't, stop perceiving me<3)