#this has a deadline so hopefully i get to deliver

[cabbagestrand]

working on something, will announce hopefully soon

[chatonmagique]

My boyfriend is literally sleeping and eating like a baby I don't know what do man, except for forcefeeding him at this point

Like I'm pretty sure his already fatigued body has adapted to the lack of food intake by sleeping an insane amount

[tadpolesonalgae]

Bloodlust.[*]

Azriel x reader

a/n: thank you, anon <3, I had a lot of fun writing this 😌

warnings: smut, spitting, hate-sex, slight power imbalance?

word count: 4,170

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“Where’s your report?”

“I thought you were doing it.”

The look Azriel gives you is filled with enough ire to have a hint of satisfaction sparking in your chest, the hollow beneath his dark brows deepening as his classical features twist into an expression of silent hatred.

“You have thirty minutes to get it written up and on my desk,” he says shortly, words icy and clipped in the exact way that has irritation scratching at the back of your mind. “That’s completely unreasonable,” you reply bluntly. “Besides,” you say, holding his dark gaze, “I thought you were my superior. I was just there to offer assistance, so there’s no need for me to submit a formal report.”

“My desk. Half an hour,” he repeats coldly, his tone blunt and unforgiving. “Not a minute later.”

Then he turns, closing the door with enough force it creates a distinct hissing noise on the way shut, leaving you to struggle with the deadline.

————

Twenty-nine minutes later you deliver three forceful knocks to his door, blood hot as it boils in your veins, report still stuck to your clipboard which is in turn tucked beneath your arm.

“Enter,” he calls, and a muscle in your jaw ticks at the tone. Curt and demanding. Still, you step inside, allowing the door to click shut, dropping the clipboard on his desk on top of a file he was writing in, hopefully smudging the ink as the board clatters upon the surface. “Good enough?” You nearly spit, but manage to tone down the venom just enough.

Thunder claps from outside as your eyes meet, and he picks the report up, leaning back in his chair as he begins to read through the hurried scrawl. You bite down a snappy remark, hands clasped behind your back in proper fashion as you’re forced to wait for him to complete his review. You get the distinct impression he’s taking his time.

His dark eyes pause a third of the way down the page, brows narrowing before dragging his gaze to yours. “The disposal was rushed and excessively violent. Diplomacy would have been preferable, and much more suitable?” He reads aloud, voice rough and gravelly with barely restrained ire.

“You asked for my report,” you counter lowly, unable to help the disagreeable twist of your features as you glare at him. “Diplomacy did not guarantee the mission’s success. It would have been a waste of time,” he replies.

“That’s just like you to rush into violence,” you hiss, nails digging into the skin of your wrist with the amount of restraint you’re using to keep from doing something you’ll regret. “You resort to slaughter at the slightest inconvenience,” you seethe, nails piercing the skin. “Fucking Illyrian,” you spit.

Ire blazes behind his eyes, reflecting the hatred burning in your own gaze.

Not breaking eye-contact, he reaches for a blank sheet of paper and places it before him on the desk, jabbing his finger once down atop the page. “Rewrite it. Now.”

A startled laugh barks from your throat as you stare at him in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

“I won’t repeat myself.”

You stare at him longer, furious indignation boiling your blood, able to feel as your temper begins to bubble over with blatant provocation. “You’re a spiteful piece of shit,” you seethe lowly but he doesn’t buckle beneath your rage. You wouldn’t hate him as much as you do if you could so easily get the better of him. “You just want me to write a report in your favour. You can’t stand that you might have made the wrong call.”

“It was the right call,” he replies harshly, a hiss in his voice, “your lack of experience is limiting your understanding. I knew you weren’t fit for this mission—I’ll have you moved to a more suitable position.”

“You’re the one in the wrong position,” you spit, stalking forward so you’re right before his desk. “You’re too prone to excessive violence. You needlessly took a life that could have been saved. It would have been of no consequence to us if he lived.”

“His existence would have only perpetuated the problem,” Azriel repeats lowly, his own temper beginning to show as he stands from his desk, palms flattening across its surface as he leans forward. “Purge from the roots, or it will only return. Now write the report.”

Gritting your teeth any tighter would have surely caused one to crack beneath the pressure, and you can perfectly imagine how it would feel to launch yourself across the desk and wrap your hands around his throat. To squeeze until he’s thrashing beneath you, that indomitable figure writhing beneath you as you begin to pry the life from his body…to set him alight and watch him scream.

You ease out a breath, soothed by the surprisingly violent imagery. You aren’t one to generally resort to that kind of solution, but with him it seems almost irresistible…the call of violence, how good it would feel to watch blood bead on his skin.

Frustration slightly abated, you drag the paper from beneath his hold. “Give me the clipboard.”

“You’ll complete it here, where I can see you,” he replies icily.

“Fine. Give me the clipboard,” you bite out, rage already rising again.

“You don’t need it. You’ll write it here,” he says, gesturing to the desk.

A tinge of red creeps into your vision, and it takes all your discipline not to reach for the blades tucked beneath your clothes. Stiff with rage, you drag the paper to the side of his desk, walking around to his side as you take a pen from the pot, making a point of reaching through his personal space. Then, as you’re retracting, you decide you’ve had enough of restraining yourself. “Illyrian scum,” you hiss out, gaze piercing into him as your hand tightens around the pen, clutching it as though it were a blade.

His pupils narrow into slits and his fingers crush at the soft skin of your throat. Your entire body contracts beneath the brutal touch, the tip of steel already poised to slice into leather and cut through his blackened heart. Stalemate.

“You’re a fucking piece of work,” he snarls out gutturally, expression twisted into picturesque wrath, ignoring the stinging pain as you slide the blade deeper, sharp enough to pierce the leather with ease, poised to cut into flesh. He seems to remember himself, hold lightening only marginally…enough you have to pull back on the blade or else he’ll be justified in his hostility.

“Infighting is forbidden,” you manage to get out, making sure to keep the steel close enough to his flesh he knows you won’t hesitate anymore. “You broke a rule, Spymaster.”

“And what will you do?” He asks, cruel mirth glittering in his dark hazel eyes. “Will you try for diplomacy now?” He hisses, squeezing the sides of your throat painfully.

“Why would I bother with a brute?” You rasp back, neither of you bothering to conceal the venom in your voices. “Clear aggression is the only language you’ll understand, so I’ll just have to act in a way that’ll get through that thick skull of yours.”

“Brandishing a weapon against me is enough to have you permanently removed from your position,” he hisses down at you.

“Fine,” you breathe, coming to the same conclusion as he has for the expulsion of rage that’s been building up inside of you. “Hand-to-hand combat it is.”

His hand releases your throat at the same time the blade falls from your fingertips, his grip sliding to the nape of your neck as your arms snake over his shoulders, nails raking through his hair as you’re magnetically snatched against one another, hardly a breath of air to be found between your bodies as you’re crushed against one another. Teeth flash as canines scrape, but his fingers dig into the tendon at your neck, forcing you to seize as he pries you apart with his tongue and mouth. Your lip curls in a snarl as he pushes into you, able to see how his wings have instinctively flared at his back, shadows writhing and deepening with unsuppressed fury.

Without giving him a chance to defend your arms surge further down his back, nails brandished as they scratch across the intimate skin of his wings, slicing the leathery surface jaggedly. He recoils, a vicious snarl cutting through the room that has satisfaction blazing across your chest. Rage bleeds across his features and his hand returns to your throat, shoving you down onto his desk, papers flying as ink spills across the surface, pens clattering as they drop to the floor. Your hands fly to his wrist, scratching at his scarred knuckles but his mouth has already descended over yours again and you move to grip at his hair, silky and soft beneath your violent touch. Heat swarms your skin as his shadows pin you down, writhing pleasantly across your body in a way that has your insides fluttering.

Azriel again pries your lips apart, tongue sweeping in as his mouth slants invasively over your own, flicking and stroking while his fingers hold your jaw in a vice-like grip. A strange feeling skitters beneath your skin, and you wrap your legs around his hips, minimising the space between your bodies as he presses flush against your centre.

You can feel him.

Oh Gods, you can feel him completely.

Your mouth parts as you push against him, tongue sweeping across his own, the kisses hot and wet as each of you refuse to lighten your grip on the other and your thighs squeeze him closer, determined you won’t be losing this battle.

Azriel pulls away abruptly, and you look up at him, watching keenly for any move he’ll make, aware what kind of beast you’re taunting. “Keep still,” he commands roughly, voice like gravel as his shadows swarm your body, and you snarl as the hand that was pinning your throat to the desk drops to the hem of your shirt. Before you have a chance to counter he’s lowered to your neck, hair having fallen back onto the surface so he has plenty of room as his shadows shove your face to the side.

You inhale sharply as his teeth graze the sensitive expanse, grip tugging on his hair to get him closer, eager to have him working his mouth over the intimate area. “Hurry up,” you hiss, eager to be rid of the burning heat as soon as possible.

“I’ll go at whatever pace I like,” he replies darkly before sinking his teeth into your shoulder, biting down hard enough to leave more than just a mark in his wake. A noise of pleasure seeks to slip from your mouth as he palms at your breast, thumb grazing across your nipple as he targets a spot just beneath your ear, kissing down your neck as he makes his way to your collar bones, littering your skin with deep bite marks that will surely remain for days, even with accelerated healing.

“You’re an arrogant prick, you know that,” you pant, putting as much venom into your voice as you can manage, thighs tightening around his hips so you can feel him more acutely, the thick length of him rubbing over your centre. “And you’re turned on by that?” He counters sharply with a hungry glint in his eyes.

Heat flushes your skin as you make to deny his claim, but his shadows have been untying the laces of your trousers making it easy for him to roughly grip the waistband and shove the material away, dragging it over your thighs and off past your ankles, leaving you with only your underwear to conceal your lower half. “Slow down,” you snarl, searching for a way to regain control of the situation. You hate that he’s the one in charge.

Azriel grips the underside of your thighs, guiding them to wrap snugly around his hips again as his hand slips beneath your shirt again, settling over your breast, fingers skimming your nipple tauntingly. “Hurry up. Slow down. Which one is it?” He goads, something that looks too close to male satisfaction passing through his expression for you to stand. Your lip curls and before you can second-guess yourself you’ve spat at him.

He freezes for a moment, motion halting and you find yourself holding your breath, keeping entirely still beneath him. Waiting for the storm to break.

Fury engulfs his eyes, features twisting in a snarl as he grips your jaw, fingers squeezing at the muscle as he forces your mouth open, spitting down between your lips. Your eyes widen as arousal flutters violently in your lower abdomen, unable to help the way your hips buck as you swallow. Sadism glints in his hazel eyes, his own arousal beginning to filter through into your lungs but to your surprise you don’t hate it.

“Like that?” He croons lowly, leaning over you while still gripping your jaw, eyes dark and dangerous yet there’s an unmistakable heat that he’s not quite able to entirely suppress. Rage pierces through your mind and your palm smacks across his cheek, nails catching on his brow and temple as you snarl lowly. “Try that again,” you hiss in warning, “I’m not against walking out right now if you pull something like that again.”

“Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it,” he replies icily, syllables dragging from his throat.

“Prick,” you snarl.

“Brat,” he bites back.

You make to smack him again but his shadows snare your wrists faster than you can blink, slamming them painfully back onto the table, the impact ringing through your bones but you refuse to show your wince. You open your mouth to hiss something at him—what, you haven’t yet decided—but the intention dissolves on your tongue as you feel him cup you through your underwear. Heat unravels in your lower stomach, liquefying into a torrent as arousal breaks all at once across your skin and you find yourself breathless. Cruel, dark hazel eyes pierce into yours, watching intently as he rests the heal of him palm over the apex of your thighs, his middle finger running tauntingly over your entrance, applying a light pressure to the dip between your legs.

Male satisfaction is written across his features but you find you can’t think of anything to knock it away: your hands are pinned, your legs slung over his hips, and you’re in no state to control the small amount of magic you possess. Azriel’s mouth remains in a loathsome cut, but you can still make out that heat in his gaze, the slight ember that’s the cause of this whole mess—you wonder how clearly it’s showing in your own eyes.

“Nothing to say?” He asks lowly over your mouth, silky hair brushing against your brow like a tender caress—the gentlest touch either of your will ever share between one another, and entirely unintended. “Don’t worry,” he rasps coldly, thumbing your underwear out of the way and your lips part on a sharp inhale as you feel his cock slide through the wetness that’s coalesced between your thighs. “I’ll make sure to fuck the brat out of you.”

“At least my negative traits can be removed,” you manage to hiss out ruefully, wishing to be able to rake your nails across his skin somehow. “There’s no changing what you are.”

You don’t need to remind him of your earlier comment. He’s been hearing the words repeat through his mind since you spat them out: Illyrian scum.

Icy fury glitters in his gaze, fingertips biting bruises into your hips as he lines himself up and swiftly pushes in, the entrance made almost effortless by how wet you are; you’re somewhat relieved when he makes no comment about it.

Your spine arches helplessly, lips parting as he pushes in, filling you up in a way you hadn’t anticipated or even considered. Satisfying the ache that had been thrumming between your legs, giving you something long and thick to squeeze. Your only saving grace is that he seems to be as breathless as you are, brow lowered to the top of your sternum, lips grazing between your breasts as his hands remain firmly on your hips. From another angle you’d think it looked reverent, but then you’d also look in the heights of pleasure, and no matter how Azriel might be able to make you feel physically, there’s no removing the guttural hatred that burns between you.

“Move,” you whisper, panting softly. “Move.”

His wings twitch almost imperceptibly at his back, then he’s dragging himself upright, pulling away from you to stand to his full height as he looms above. You swallow thickly, having enough sense to squeeze your thighs around his hips, legs locking as you urge him to move; to give more. “Hold still,” he breathes, and your muscles instinctively relax, giving him room to shift.

“So you can follow orders,” he muses lowly, holding you tight as he draws back.

“Fuck o—” you begin to say, but he rolls his hips firmly to yours and your head tips back onto his desk, falling to the side as his cock rubs so delightfully against you, pleasure brimming at your edges from being so full, so spread out. He doesn’t give you time to recover. After another firm roll of his hips, as if testing you out, he finds his rhythm instinctively. Hard, punishing movements that allow him to pound into you, shoving the breath from your lungs as he repeatedly slams into you.

Your spine arches, writhing on his desk as you tug at the shadowy constraints, desperate noises being forced from your chest as his cock drives into you over and over again, thoughts practically falling out of your mind as it turns to mush beneath the utterly overwhelming onslaught of pleasure. Your eyes squeeze shut, blocking him out so you can concentrate only on the purest part of the sensations, zero in on the flutter of arousal between your legs, the rightness of being so full up, of having him pressed so tight between your thighs.

You allow yourself to fall deeply into the pleasure, allow yourself to be washed away entirely, submerged in the heated waters as you keep just enough of a hold on him to prevent your legs from falling off the desk. A moan slips from between your lips as your control begins to disintegrate, content to bask in the pleasure and forget who’s providing it. Azriel doesn’t make it that easy, though.

“Things would be so much better if you just learned to shut up and take it sooner,” he mutters down at you, shadows crawling leisurely over your body, pushing the fabric of your top up over your chest so their master can watch as your figure moves with each of his thrusts. Pleasure blossoms as his darkness teases the sensitive peaks of your breasts, pinching and playing with your nipples, and you try to dig your nails into your palm, teeth pushing into your lower lip to keep the noises from becoming louder.

“You’re so well-behaved now,” he muses lowly, and even if his expression wouldn’t show his pleasure, you can hear it the rich timbre of his voice, the satisfaction he’s feeling at getting you to shut up. “So docile,” he taunts, and your eyes snap open to shoot him a furious glare for trying to disrupt your pleasure. For succeeding. But no sooner than you open your eyes, his thumb presses over your clit and any resistance is utterly obliterated.

Azriel hadn’t anticipated how it would feel however, how your body would respond to the intimate kind of stimulation he was subjecting you to, and is unable to bite down on the rough groan that drags viscerally from his chest as you tighten around him, as if trying to pull him deeper so he’ll never leave.

The both of you are near your breaking point though neither wants to admit it. But the signs are there. Your panting breaths, the gleam on his skin, the heat to your cheeks, the tension in his body—it’s all there for the other to read. He rubs against a spot and despite subduing your reaction he somehow knows where to aim, targeting it repeatedly as his thumb soothes over your clit, the pad sliding effortlessly over top from the slick that’s coating the both of you. It’s so much that your discipline slips for a moment. “Azriel…”

It’s softer than a breath, quieter than a whisper, but he hears it. Of course he hears it. And he finds that he likes the way you moan his name. Especially while getting to take his tension out on you so roughly. It’s probably more satisfying than any method he could have thought up on his own.

His grip tightens on your hips, angling them slightly upright as he leans over you. “Say that again,” he commands quietly, but firmly. An intensity in his demand that has your throat rolling. You don’t want to, but you can feel his concentration piercing down on you, the intensity of his focus weighing so heavily that you feel like your skin is prickling.

“Piss off,” you manage to get out, but you can feel how swiftly release is gathering, how close you are to that wonderful high that will knock you clean from your feet.

For a moment he continues with his punishing movements, but it seems like he’s committed now. You hadn’t fully understood what it would mean to have his entire attention upon you, but when he roughly rips you from his desk, jerking you up against his chest as he turns the two of you around so your back is shoved up against his wall, you feel the consequences dawn on you.

From this position you’re forced so much closer, the physical intimacy catching you off guard as your breasts press flush to his chest, staring into cold hazel eyes that can be no more than a few inches from your own, able to feel each puff of breath that’s expelled from his body as it brushes over your lips. He takes up all of your vision, wings flared slightly at his back as shadows crawl up your body, pinching at your nipples, pressing against your clit as his hips buck roughly to your own and you feel yourself unravel.

The orgasm pulses through your body once, before crashing down on you in its entirety, and your mouth parts in silent ecstasy.

His hand slides through your hair, your own having found their place on his shoulders, and he angles your head so you’re forced to look at him. “Say it,” he murmurs, lips brushing over yours, and your world is thawed enough that you yield.

“Az…riel…”

A heavy sigh warms your mouth, then his teeth grit, head dropping to your shoulder as you feel him find his release. Your hips buck, hands grappling to reach over his shoulders, pulling him into you as the waves of pleasure continue to pulse through your body, muscles turning custard-like beneath the overpowering sensations. Reaching weakly over his back, you have enough energy to lightly skim the pads of your fingers over the ridges of his wings, and if it wasn’t for his proximity to you, you’re almost certain you would have missed the soft moan that involuntary parts from his lips. He tenses briefly, the only sign that he was caught off guard before his teeth settle over your shoulder, biting lightly at the side of your throat.

Breaths pant between you as you ride out the aftershocks, basking in the waning pleasure for a few moments longer before your hold relaxes on him, and he steps back, hands still keeping your hips pinned to the wall despite your feet now being on the ground.

You bite back a hiss as his cock leaves you feeling slightly cold and empty, but you’d rather take a near-lethal dose of faebane than tell him that. His gaze meets yours and for a second you’re unsure what you could possibly say to one another. But his expression remains cold, your own features shifting habitually towards neutrality.

“You have until tomorrow morning to redo the report,” he mutters, already having his clothes back in place as his shadows push your trousers to your stomach, and your hands wrap around the bundle of fabric.

“Want me to write a report on this, too?” You reply, relieved that the heat is beginning to cool, sensing you’re back in control of yourself.

His brow narrows, the hollow beneath darkening with loathing. “You’re more trouble that you’re worth,” he mutters, stepping back to give you space.

You meet his icy gaze, a sharp glint in your own as victory sparks darkly across your chest.

“Liar.”

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[aluminumneedles]

The Great Knitted Christmas Gifts Bonanza of 2024

(Working title)

Besties and beloved mutuals, welcome to the chaos.

This will be wacky. Zany. Incredibly boring at times and possibly excessively dramatic for no reason at all except my (and hopefully your) amusement. We will laugh! I will cry! We will perhaps commiserate over things and also I will aggravate my carpal tunnel! I will ask for advice on things I don't know how to do! I will make polls because audience participation is enrichment for me! Good shit good shit let's get started

At the time of writing it is September 18, 2024, also known as 98 days before Christmas Eve, which will heretofore be known as The Deadline™️. I have, at present, four family members for whom I am making gifts. Now you may be thinking "Kay, that's only four people. That does not warrant a big post." But I'm making one anyway so here we goooo

PERSON #1

Mom. I already decided on my mom's gift, she's getting a shawl. It's my first shawl and I'm kinda geeked about it. It's the Cosmos Textured Knit Wrap from Mama in a Stitch

(photo taken from Mama in a Stitch's website I hope that's ok??)

Yarn is Red Heart worsted weight acrylic in Royal. Now here's the situation: I haven't made a wearable with acrylic yarn in awhile and I wasn't a huge fan of how it felt last time. But I know people do it literally every day, so: when the time comes I will be soliciting advice on how to make it soft and comfy. Plus I hate blocking and I'm gonna have to block this so yay growth!!

PERSON #2

My sister. Adorable, likes a pastel, super long hair, so I was thinking...scrunchies? And then I was thinking scrunchies are not necessarily on the level of gift I was aiming for so I thought...scrunchies + matching leg warmers (babydoll goes to the gym sometimes so i thought it would be cute)? And then. AND THEN. Was scrolling Pinterest instead of sleeping and I found these!!!

Now there are pros and cons

Pros:

I have been wanting to knit lace

I have been wanting to knit socks

Cons:

I have no experience knitting lace or socks

Oh well f*ck it we ball! Will still try to match the scrunchies to the socks. Send thoughts/prayers/advice/yarn recs, because idk what I am doingggg

PERSON #3

My brother. So, at the first of the year I started knitting a blanket kind of just because--I really liked the pattern and I wanted the feeling of starting something new in the new year. In April I decided it would be a gift for my boyfriend at the time, in May it became too hot to knit with wool, and in July the relationship ended. My brother has expressed interest in a blanket from the same pattern and has offered to take this one off my hands. I'm about 3/4 of the way done. Should be an easy gift, right? Maybe I'll throw in a matching pillow?

However, I once promised to make him this sweater:

(image snagged from the MomentsinTwine Etsy shop)

I bought the pattern, I bought the yarn, and I never delivered. (I started it and frogged it twice because my gauge was so so off.)

So uhhh PLEASE do the poll I need help deciding. Yarn would probably be a golden yellow wool blend, because that is the color he wanted 3 years ago and if I ask for an updated color choice he'll know what I'm working on 😭

PERSON #4

My dad.

Y'all.

I have no idea what to do for this man. He is a very classic "I don't want anything" person, and I am a classic "Must. Give. Gift." person. So already, times are tough!! What am I supposed to knit this man???

So I was thinking slippers-- I found a pattern for Woodland Loafers on Ravelry (pattern by Claire Slade) and I thought they were adorable. But then I was thinking why not make a whole, like, cozy care package? So I thought slippers, mug rug + mug cozy, maybe something else? He likes music, he likes to relax and watch his lil shows, he likes M*rvel?? Open to so many suggestions babes.

So...yeah. That's the show. I'll update as I go along, and if you're ever curious about how things are going or want to bully me about not making progress, please nudge me!! Sorry this was so long okay bye

[homenecromancer]

[This post is a reprint of an interview with NaRae Lee conducted at San Diego Comic Con 2009, by Deb Aoki for about.com. I have removed web links so that this post will hopefully appear in tags -- please click the source link if you want to click and see, like, archived versions of Yen Press's website.]

Interview: NaRae Lee

Manhwa artist for James Patterson's Maximum Ride

By Deb Aoki, About.com

To celebrate the first birthday of Yen Plus magazine, Yen Press invited Korean comics artist NaRae Lee as their special guest at San Diego Comic-Con 2009. Lee is the artist behind the graphic novel adaptation of James Patterson's bestselling Maximum Ride novels for young adults that is currently being serialized monthly in the pages of Yen Plus.

Discovered by Yen Press Senior Editor JuYoun Lee, NaRae was able to make her U.S. debut working on a series that already had legions of devoted fans. It's a lot to live up to, but NaRae proved to be up to the challenge by delivering artwork that looks remarkably polished for a relative newbie to the world of international manga publishing.

This visit to San Diego was NaRae's first visit to the United States, and unfortunately, the trip from Korea to Southern California wasn't an easy one for her. The effects of jet-lag took their toll on the petite yet hard-working artist, which forced Yen Press to cancel her first planned autograph session on Friday afternoon. NaRae did manage to make it to the convention center to meet her fans on Saturday afternoon, which is when I caught up with her to ask a few questions.

NaRae tends to draw herself as a pudgy, chibi character in her artist's notes in Yen Plus, but in reality, she's a slender, shy and soft-spoken young woman who seemed somewhat surprised to see the line of fans who came to meet her and get her autograph. Yen Press Senior Editor JuYoun Lee kindly translated our conversation.

Q: Welcome to San Diego Comic-Con. It's great to have you here.

NaRae Lee: I'm happy to be here too.

Q: Did you see anything in the Exhibit Hall that you thought was really exciting and cool?

NaRae Lee: I've been sick (since I got to San Diego from Korea), so this is actually the first time that I've been to the convention center.

Q: Ah, too bad. I hope you get to see more of it over the next two days. When you got the call to do Maximum Ride, had you heard of the books before?

NaRae Lee: I didn’t know about them at first.

Q: What were your impressions when you read the script? Did anything strike you in particular that made you think, 'Wow, I should work on this project?'

NaRae Lee: I liked the characters a lot. They each had their own distinctive characteristics and personalities, so that was the big appeal for me.

Q: Which is your favorite character to draw?

NaRae Lee: Character-wise, my favorite is Iggy, but when I'm drawing I enjoy drawing Max the most.

Q: Why is that?

NaRae Lee: The way I'm drawing the character is like a lot of my taste, so I likes how the eyes and the clothes she wears came out. I'm enjoying drawing her very much.

Q: I was really impressed when I first saw your art for Maximum Ride. It's very accomplished, very professional-looking, and it reads very nicely. Is this your first long series?

NaRae Lee: Thank you. Yes, it's my first major series.

Q: Has it been an adjustment creating a new chapter on a monthly schedule?

NaRae Lee: It’s been tough.

Q: Do you have time to do other things, like draw your own manga stories?

NaRae Lee: I also have my own story, a manga that is currently being published in a Korean anthology. That also has a monthly deadline. That one is fortunately only eight pages a month, but still, because I'm juggling the two deadlines I've been having a tough time.

Q: What is the title and what is it about?

NaRae Lee: It’s called Sweetie Milky Propose and it’s for younger girls. It’s like a comedy, also has a bit of a romance going on. It's about four fairies from Milkland coming into the human world to find their princess, who doesn’t know she is a princess. It's very funny.

Q: That sounds cute -- I hope to see it some time! So how did you and JuYoun (Lee, Senior Editor of Yen Press) find each other?

NaRae Lee: (turns to JuYoun) You would know better about that!

JuYoun Lee:Well, there is like an anthology that her school puts out. I saw her like short story there and I immediately liked her art style. I thought she would be perfect for Maximum Ride, so I contacted her.

Q: Ah wow, so straight from college. So how long have you been drawing manga?

NaRae Lee: I've been drawing since I was in like fourth or fifth grade in elementary school. I also went to an animation high school, not just college, so I've been drawing for a long time.

Q: So what is the curriculum like at an animation university? Is it like mostly animation classes or is it like animation and regular school subjects?

NaRae Lee: Well, the college I go to is a manga college and my high school specialized in animation. You can also major in manga at the animation high school as well.

Q: So now that you've devoted so much of your life to drawing, what do you think is your greatest strength as an artist and what is the hardest thing for you to do?

NaRae Lee: I can’t really pinpoint my strong point because I think I'm still a newbie. So maybe the fact that I have lots of possibilities in front of me might be my strongest point.

The toughest thing that I have to deal with as I draw Maximum Ride is that the story is set in the States and this is literally my first chance I've had to visit North America. Because I'm based in Korea, it's tough to find all the reference photos and trying to imagine like (the various locations described in the script) is going to look like. This has been the hardest thing.

Q: Have you met Mr. Patterson? Have you talked with him?

NaRae Lee: (shakes her head) Ah, no. Not yet.

Q: Ah, too bad. Maybe sometime on your next visit to the U.S. Okay, so I know your fans who are for your autograph session are eager to talk to you, but do you have a special message for the fans who couldn’t join you here today?

NaRae Lee: Thank you very much for reading the books.

[serena-darrin]

Work is -sucking- today.

The courier company messed up big time and is dodging refunding me. Due to their incompetence, I missed the deadline I was shipping the thing for (luckily, the person on the other end has been as understanding as they can be, and is telling me that the courier should absolutely be refunding me given this debacle!), The samples still haven't actually been delivered yet and it's now over a week late - as one of the issues was with the delivery address! But this means I -won't- be publishing stuff next month. And that means I won't be -paid- next month for the stuff I'm no longer publishing because the samples didn't make it there in time. . . .due to so many levels of incompetence by the courier company.

Between two crappy phone menu service nightmares (and one where it is literally impossible to get a human!), I have so far, gotten nowhere with my requests for a refund. I have, instead, sent several e-mails, and will keep the responses (or lack thereof), if I have to take this to my credit card company instead.

So far I have not sworn at the phone representatives I did manage to get through to. This is a small miracle considering how uncharitable I'm feeling right now (they don't deserve it - no matter how messy the situation is, they're just doing their jobs, and it won't help, so I'm really trying to keep that in check). I may have sworn at a lot of other inanimate things today, though. It's a day I'm glad I know a few Quebecois swears.

And to top all this off, I'm supposed to be hosting a virtual event tonight. Hopefully I can calm down in the time I have before I have to be online.

[hong-kong-art-man]

A Content Farm Animal Is Born: My New 13th Book In 2024 依依得捨 (Departure Time)

The joy of writing is the opportunity of sharing what I believe. The pain of writing is me seeing deadlines looming larger and larger.

A writer does not simply write. He has to sell books so that the publisher’s fingers will not get burned. Ultimately, he has one moral duty: to write well to attract readers. He can be deprived of time but he cannot lose his quality and style.

Online media platform is often called a “content farm” these days. Writers are the various kinds of “animals”. They write on different specific topics attracting the target group of readers. They collectively generate a large amount of textual web contents which result in massive reader page views. At the end of the day, the goal is to generate huge advertising revenue through “micro targeting” in the media world.

I wrote in the 1980s, but took many years’ break in the 1990s. I started to write again about 10 years ago but no longer for newspapers and magazines. My new bosses are online media which, during the current trend, put focus on news and gossips rather than serious contributions from freelance contributors. 

I used to freely write essays and proses. Whatever my mind can conceive and believe, it can be the topic of my writing. Freedom is never won; it is given. Now, the online media editors ably plan and arrange writers one after another in a particular order. There is a splendid array of contents on the table and each writer is responsible for a dish which can attract a reader to try so that he will become a sticky fan. My job is to write on arts and culture; and occasionally on law as I am a lawyer. I am hopefully a good animal nowadays.

When we think about change, we know life was one thing and now it becomes another. A veteran writer in Hong Kong went through taking a bus to deliver articles to a newspaper headquarter, later simply faxing it to the editor, and presently just transmitting an essay through a computer or mobile phone! Well, as a writer for 40 years, I think the secret of change is, as Socrates said, “To focus all of your energy not on fighting the old, but on building the new.”

My new book依依得捨 (Departure Time) has just been released by Cosmos Books (天地圖書).I am grateful to it. It is my new book in 2024! This is my 13th publication, a collection of my art and cultural essays. I also thank Hong Kong Trade Development Council for allowing me a talk in the Book Fair in 2024 to promote my book. Enjoy it at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ffM3f1NCk6o

You can support and buy from any bookstore including Cosmos Books (天地圖書), Joint Publishing (三聯書店), The Commercial Press (商務印書館).  Alternatively, you can click on the links below or any online book shops:

Cosmos Books:  https://www.cosmosbooks.com.hk/index.php?route=product/product&product_id=988855141

hkbookcity: https://www.hkbookcity.com/showbook2.php?serial_no=28307697

yesasia: https://www.yesasia.com/us/%E4%BD%AC%E6%96%87%E9%9D%92-%E4%BE%9D%E4%BE%9D%E5%BE%97%E6%8D%A8/1129904389-0-0-0-zh_TW/info.html

A kind gesture can reach my heart that your generosity will make it beat. I work hard in silence and let my result be the noise.

Maurice Lee

Chinese Version 中文版: https://www.patreon.com/posts/huai-tai-shi-yue-110140590?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copyLink&utm_campaign=postshare_creator&utm_content=join_link

[beachesgetpeaches]

man I truly think we fucked up with all the "popular" technological advancement but at the same time we managed to get to a point where we should know that we need to step back. go back.

I mean look at idk reusable pads. this is not a new thing, it is just a similar principle to clean cloth and gauzes our grandmothers would do but done better. so we advance to realise the initial concept was good enough. (like I honestly will not touch a reusable pad ever, and I adore my menstrual cup which tbh is a novelty).

I don't know why everything today comes in plastic but it does and my assumption based on conversations I've had with people is that it's just.. profit? and to top it off we as a society consume so much. so fucking much. we don't need to consume so much.

you don't need a new pair of sneakers. or shoes to go with that outfit. you don't need a new dress for every wedding or event you are invited to. you don't need a new purse to work with that outfit, and even if none that you have work I am sure someone in your close circle has one which works.

not to mention that our incessant consumption of goods and everything is just setting the deadlines for how quickly we need to deliver value. how quickly new content to consume needs to be churned out. how quickly and senselessly resources are spent and wasted and depleted.

what is the point of a new iphone every year? in multiple different variations? and not to shit only on apple but this is true for most tech companies. why are all of your laptop component soldered? and why do we still buy this shit with a promise of tiny improvements...

idk I may be wrong but every single time we purchase something thats new but unnecessary, a new trend that will become obsolete in about three months... we contribute to the failure of society. we contribute to the fall of us. we stab ourselves in the back I think?

and I say this as a person working in a specific industry that has been faced with deadlines which make no sense. as a person who was part of a strategic discussion on four day work week and one of key troubles for deploying a proper one was deadlines. where do the fucking deadlines come from? how do these mega companies (and we have one of these as a client) set their deadlines? when will they put out a new product? who dictates that?

us, hopefully.

because if phone sales drop this year they might fuck around with software and make some older versions obsolete by next year but if you refuse to buy a new phone and go for a used one that's perfectly functional then that fucks them too. i cannot imagine how many functioning phones there are just wasting away in some drawers (ive got two, both will be given away to family members who need an upgrade; but if I have two which used to be my work phones so imagine how many there are... perfectly functional wasting away).

anyway. everything and everyone and everywhere is being consumed so quickly and senselessly... and the only thing we are doing is fucking ourselves. and I know I know rich people will still buy ut blah blah... how many are there? how many rich people vs how many in still somewhat existing middle class? and even if you are someone who is well-off... this is on you as well. this is pretty much on everyone who cares about not working until the day we all drop dead or smth.

[raviscrumknowledge]

SCRUM – A Boon for Management Consulting Teams

Consulting as a function revolves around projects. Consultants work on a variety of projects – sometimes even concurrently. In addition, they invariably have to deliver very high quality deliverables in tight deadlines. When such consulting assignments are not managed well, they invariably results in late nights for consultants, giving rise to numerous stories about how consultants get burned out soon. With Scrum, consultants can complete high quality deliverables on time without burning the midnight oil. Let’s see how.

Let’s say the consulting team is tasked with the project of designing a launch strategy for a new car model. How can it use Scrum? Well, it actually is quite simple (one of the basic objectives of Scrum – to keep it simple). You start off with stating the project vision – developing the strategy to launch the car in a defined area, say, the state of California. Then you need someone to spearhead the whole project – the Scrum Master. He/she will decide who all will be part of the Scrum team. These have to be people who will actually be doing the various tasks in the project and not the ones who simply have an interest in the project. However, the client, who is a key business stakeholder in the project, needs to be involved in developing the project vision.

So now you have the people who will be working on the Scrum project. What next? The team needs to understand the customer requirements. These are defined in the form of User Stories. In our case, two of the user stories might be ‘I need customers to test drive our car’ and ‘I need to inform our customers in an easy to understand manner, the various performance specifications of the car’.

The User Stories are approved and entered into what is called the Prioritized Product Backlog. It is the master document which guides the team in the project. It contains the User Stories and the tasks which are required to fulfill the requirements for each of the user stories. So in our example, the first User Story about test drives will include tasks like ‘Design the showroom layout to highlight the test drives’, ‘Decide the communication strategy for the client’s customers’, ‘Develop the feedback metrics’, ‘Decide on the tasks to be performed by the salesperson before the test drive’, etc. It then decides on a Release Planning Schedule which lays out the schedule of shipping out completed deliverables to the customers. The team then estimates the time required for the various tasks. Based on the above, a collective decision is taken on which all tasks will be taken up in the first round – called Sprint in Scrum. A Sprint duration can vary from a week to a few weeks.

The team then works on completing the tasks in a particular Sprint. To ensure that things are on track, the Scrum team has a Daily Standup Meeting which is time-boxed to normally 15 minutes to half an hour, in which all the members stand around and discuss the status of the different tasks. Given that consulting teams generally don’t have rigid hierarchies and do interact on a daily basis, the Daily Standup Meetings would be a more structured way to conduct their daily interactions. Tasks are entered in post-it notes and stuck on to a whiteboard with 3 columns – ‘To be done’, ‘In Process’ and ‘Completed’.  The team works on the tasks from the first column to the third column. At the end of a Sprint, when the team has hopefully completed all the tasks, a Sprint Review Meeting takes place where the team discusses what went right and what are the improvement opportunities. At designated points in time as laid out in the Release Planning Schedule, the team ships out completed deliverables to the client, which generally includes a call with, or a presentation to the client.

This process continues till all the deliverables and tasks are completed in the consulting project. The high level of involvement and communication involved in the Daily Standup Meetings is the key to an effective implementation of Scrum. Thus, by following the above process, consulting teams can ensure speedy completion of projects with high quality outputs without getting bogged down by a lot of documentation and processes.

[iamtoday]

Hi, diary.

I’ve tried having private diaries for so many times, but it doesn’t work for me. I don’t feel motivated, I feel soggy and lazy when I’m doing this for myself only. I know Tumblr is not very diary-ish type of platform, but the design are nice, and I am really tired of searching for a cozy place that works for me, and… people can block users if they don’t want to see their posts? I hope.

I am in the worst physical form in my life, I fear. I don’t even want to weight myself at this point; hopefully I will get to it in March. For now I’ll do more physical activity on daily basis. I’ve lost my only sports bra somewhere, so three new sports bras will be delivered hopefully sometime around February 23-25th. Until then I only do yoga with DownDog (Beginner 2nd, 40 minutes daily) and try to move\walk more. This alone has affected the shape of my face already, so it shows just how much of a slob I’ve been for a while.

Other than that, I have to:

- Finish algorithm study for the 4 weeks, deadline March 5

- Control new wardrobe delivery and setup

- Communicate with family on regular basis

- Try to communicate with at least a single friend. No, make it two, actually.

- Heal my left eye, it hurts so much, I just can’t

- Take better care of myself in general, do face routine daily.

[writersblog20]

Sick as a dog

Tom Hiddleston x Reader. Guest appearance: Benedict Cumberbatch

Summary: the reader has been working way to hard for the past months because she didn’t have any choice because of deadlines. But when she had a week off and made plans with her boyfriend Tom her health caught up to her. Tom made it his mission to take care of the reader.

Warning: age-gap ( the reader is 25 years old), being EXTREMELY overworked ANGST and fluff.

Words: almost 4K

Sick as a dog

You came home from a chaotic day of college. It was clear that it was the week before all of your teachers would grade the work you delivered. The whole week was chaotic and all of the students were running on low energy but the work had to be done. It was the last day and luckily you made all your deadlines. That means that you (hopefully) had a week off. On Sunday you would hear if you had to come back to redeem yourself. But at least you wouldn’t have any new assignments.

Tom wasn’t home yet because you were done earlier than expected. He was filming but luckily it wasn’t far so you wouldn’t have to miss him too much. Covid was still around so you and Tom decided to quarantine together and it was one of the best decisions you both made. Your college arranged that you at least had two days of physical classes. All the others were online. But it was most of the stressful periods there were and even the teachers had to scratch their head for a moment because the students fell like flies on a hot day. Almost everyone was close to a burn-out. Just like you were.

You put your computer down and moved your tired body to the living room. Tiredness catching up to you. Deciding it would be best if you would just lay down for a second. You texted Tom that you were already home but that you were going to take a nap.

He knew how exhausted you were and found it outrageous how much of shit you were getting form your teachers. It was always you in particular. There were many days that you would break down from stress and that Tom were comforting you. He wanted you to take care of yourself but he also knew that you almost didn’t have any choice. He felt helpless seeing your college tiring you down. He even called your mom asking for advice and she told him that he couldn’t do much about it and that you didn’t have a choice because of school. You already tried to take all the rest you could. But it was obvious not enough. Your mom told more details of how the college already treated you beforehand. You never really told him how much shit they were actually giving you. So there wasn’t much he could to other then to be there for you.  It was either that or failing which would lead to you having to do this year again and you wouldn’t even think about that.

You took a shirt from Tom and crawled into the shared bed. You finally were able to give in your tiredness. You had a massive headache and were nauseous but you thought that you would feel better after some rest. You fell asleep fairly quickly.

Tom came home and all the lights were still out. He saw your text so knew you were resting. He quickly took a shower and walked towards the bedroom. He saw you curled up lying in bed. He smiled lovingly at the sight and walked towards you. He kneeled down and went with his fingers through your hair. You had put your hair in a messy bun. The sight fluttered his heart. He gave you a kiss on your forehead. He frowned when he noticed how hot you felt. He saw that your cheeks were flustered.

“Love?” Tom asked softly. You just stirred in your sleep. He was worried about you but glad you could take some time off but he knew your body was caving in right now. I mean it was only a matter of time and he was quite surprised it took so long. You were sweating a little bit and groaning in discomfort.

Tom stood up and walked towards the living room. He called your mom for the recipe of her soup that you loved so much. After he received the recipe and ingredients he went to the store. He was going to take care of you and there was nothing you could do about it. He made it his mission right now to make you feel better or at least make it a little more comfortable for you.

He picked up a lot of stuff. Like some juice for your immune system some painkillers. A lot of fresh fruit, some comfort snacks if you felt up for it and some nice things for in the bathtub that you love so much along with your favorite lotion and body spray along with other stuff to make you feel better. He checked out and made his way back home.

You were still asleep when Tom started to make the soup. After 30 minutes you walked into the Livingroom groggy. You felt horrible. You saw Tom in the kitchen and walked towards him.

“hey” you said and Tom walked towards you with sad smile on his face “hello love, how are you feeling?” Tom asked as he pulled you into a hug. Your body felt incredible fragile and everything was hurting right now. “like shit, everything hurts, I have a massive headache, I feel nauseas and I’m so tired” you told him. Tom went through your hair with his hands. “I had a feeling you would feel like this so I made your mom’s soup and got you some stuff to make you feel a little better or at least more comfortable.” You started to cry because of the kindness he’d shown you. It was all getting to you know and its all coming out at the same time. He softly pulled you into his chest. “Its okay darling let it all out. I’m here now and you can rest. You deserve and need it!” he said the last thing more stern.

“I love you” you told him while he wiped away your tears with his thumb. “I love you too. So much.” He told you softly while looking intense in your eyes so the message would be clear. “Do you want to take a shower now or after dinner, before bed?” he asked. “I really don’t have the energy right now.” You told him. “Okay you know what, why don’t we eat some soup, then I will help you into the bathtub, then we can watch Sherlock Holmes or whatever you want, and I’ll make you some tea. How does that sound?” he asked you while he gently rubbed your arms.  You nodded and he gave you a gently smile. “Go sit on the couch dear. You need rest” he told you and gave you a kiss on the top of your head. You were still burning up and Tom noticed.

You made your way on the couch and Tom asked about your day. You told him how it went and then asked about his. You loved listening to his stories but especially his voice. It calmed you down. Tom could always somehow calm the storm in your head. Nobody could not even you. Or well you probably could you just didn’t know how.

He came to the Livingroom with soup, a glass of water and some painkillers. He walked back and got some soup for himself and settled next to you. “you really mastered the soup” you said with a soft smile. “thanks to your mom” he said with a smile. “You called my mom?” you asked surprised and giggled. “you can be so stubborn sometimes. I knew this was coming but I hoped we could somehow prevent it. So I called your mom and she told me a little more about how college is treating you….Sweetheart, you can tell me anything. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked you softly. “I don’t know. I know I have to talk about it with them but then again I already did so many times and it never changed anything. I just need to keep going for a year. Then I’m done (hopefully).”

“Your mom told me. I know you already tried talking but please don’t keep everything bottled up and talk to me instead.” He asked you pleading. “then that would be everyday” you said with sour laugh. “then so be it. I love you and I want to help you through this. Because this is not normal how they are wearing you guys out…. How they’re wearing you out. Its not fine. So let me help you through this” he told you while he held your hand. “okay” you said and gave in. “God you can be so stubborn  sometimes” he said laughing and giving you a kiss”

After Tom put the dishes in the kitchen he came back with a bag. You looked up at him curiously. “So I’m going to take care of you this whole week. Even when you’re feeling better I’m still going to pamper you” he told you. You wanted to say something but he interrupted you. “I don’t want to hear a word about it because its definitely not going to change anything.” You giggled a little which made him smile.

He walked into the bathroom but you were too tired to follow him. Tom was making the bathtub ready and you started to get really hot and then after 10 minutes really cold again. Tom came back and frowned when he saw you. Your cheeks were flustered again. He could see that you had goosebumps because of the t-shirt.

He picked you up bridal style “alright my lady the bath is now ready for you.” You said and you gave a tired giggle. You saw that he placed candles around the tub and you smelled your favorite soap. You saw your favorite and overpriced body spray and lotion standing there along with some other things. You looked tiredly at Tom but grateful. “thank you Tom, you really didn’t have to do this.” “I wanted to. Besides I know how to treat my lady.” He told you. He put you down and helped you strip from your clothes.

“is the temperature alright?” You nodded. “okay enjoy your bath darling call me if you need anything.” “Wait Tom, please stay?” you asked him. he kneeled down beside the tub and went with his fingers through your hair. “I’m going to change the bedsheets real quick and then I’ll be back and read you some of that book that you were reading alright?” You nodded again and Tom gave you a quick kiss before walking away.

After five minutes he came back and planted himself on the toilet seat and started to read too you. After 20 minutes you started to feel cold again and he helped you out of the tub. Your felt more horrible with the second. You didn’t even have to say anything to Tom for him to notice. It was pretty clear. He grabbed a towel and put it around you and pulled you into a hug. “my skin hurts” you said softly as a warning for him not to dry you. “I know. Is this okay? That you’re going to dry up like this?” He asked you. “yeah just please don’t let go” he carefully picked you up again and walked with you towards the bed.

He grabbed some underwear and a big shirt and sweater that were his. He helped you put on the underwear and walked away to grab the lotion and came back. He put some in his hands and carefully massaged your legs so the lotion was rubbed in nicely. After he was done he put the shirt over you head and helped you in it just like the big sweatpants of his. He walked back to get the body spray and put some on you as well.

When you were done he picked you up again and walked towards the big comfy couch and laid you down. he got back to the kitchen to make you some tea. when he was done he walked back and gave you some ginger tea. You told him one time that ginger helped you when you were feeling nauseous. He put on Sherlock and laid down behind you. You were all curled up to hope that it would somehow help with the pain. His hand rubbed your stomach. Sometimes it helped with the nausea as well. But for know it all got worse and you knew your health was catching up to you.

Tom noticed that you were uncomfortable because you were tossing so much. “Darling? Do you want me to get you your sleeping medication? Maybe it’ll help to get some rest.” He asked you and you were really desperate at this point so you just nodded tears streaming down your face. It was a long time that you felt this miserable. “Tom I want this to stop” you cried out. “oh I know darling. I’m here.” He told you not knowing anymore how to make you feel better.

He got up to get your medication and a glass of water. “try to drink some of your tea sweetheart” you sipped some of your tea but it made you feel worse. You took your meds and Tom laid behind you again. He held you close to him. You tried focusing on the tv and with a miracle you somehow fell asleep.

You woke up from a nightmare in sweat. You felt even more terrible than before. You ran to the toilet and threw up. All of a sudden you felt a hand on your back trying to comfort you but skin was so sensitive that you didn’t like it. Tom was starting to get more worried by the second. Tom just sat next to you letting you knew he was there. You didn’t care that he saw you like this because it actually felt like you were dying. You sat there for at least an hour until you brushed your teeth and went back to bed. It was a night of running towards the bathroom.

It was morning and you still hadn’t slept. You couldn’t even keep water down let alone medication. Tom was extremely worried now. He called his best friend Benedict for advice and he told him that he would swing by. After 30 minutes Benedict and his wife Sophie came in.

“Hello sweetheart, how are you feeling?” Sophie asked while she sat on the side of the bed. You whimpered in pain not able to really talk. Tom was leaning against the wall with a worried look. Benedict patted him on the back. “I don’t know what to do Ben…. I actually want to bring her to the hospital.” He told his friend honestly. Ben nodded and looked at your vulnerable form on the bed. “Maybe that would be better. You told me that she couldn’t even keep water down right? She going to get dehydrated. I think that would be the best option right now.” Tom nodded “I’m going to call her mom to let her know that.” Ben nodded and walked towards the bed to check on your temperature.

“Hi Darling, I’m just going to check your temperature. Is that okay?” Ben asked you softly while Sophie petted your head. You just nodded. Benedict checked it and you had a dangerous high fever. Ben looked at Sophie with a worried look. “sweetheart, we need to bring you to the hospital” You couldn’t even put up a fight you were so exhausted so you just nodded. I’m going to pick you up okay” this time you couldn’t even respond. He picked you up just as easily. You rested your head on his shoulder. “Tom we have to go now!” Benedict told him sternly and worried.

Tom’s eyes became big and he felt his heart sank into his chest when he saw your almost lifeless form in the arms of Benedict. He got tears in his eyes but quickly grabbed his keys. “I’m driving, You guys sit in the back with her and bring something for when she needs to vomit.” Sophie told them. Tom quickly grabbed a plastic bag and walked with Ben towards the car. Tom got in first and Benedict laid your head on Tom’s lap and you legs on his.

The ride was 10 minutes long but you fell in and out of conscious. They tried to keep you awake. Tom picked you up this time and the all hurried inside. The nurses saw you and immediately came into action they motioned to them to walk with them. You got into a room and they told Tom to lay you down on the bed. They all asked a lot of questions to Tom while they did all kinds of tests on you.  Tom got tears in his eyes. He felt extremely guilty that he didn’t do this sooner. They gave you an infuse too keep you dehydrated and another one with medication.

Tom held your hand while the nurses and the doctor walked out to see the result of the tests. Benedict and Sophie sat on the other side. It didn’t took the doctor long to come back. They told them that you had a very nasty fever because your whole body was extremely overworked and exhausted and because of that it couldn’t fight the fever. “You really did the right thing to bring her here because of the high fever it could’ve ended differently. But she’s in good hands and will get better soon. If you want you can stay here” the doctor said looking at Tom. He nodded and thanked him. Benedict and Sophie had to leave because of Covid (only one person could stay). They gave you a kiss on the top of your head and gave Tom a hug.

You slowly woke up and felt exhausted. You felt someone holding your hand. You opened your eyes and tried to adjust to the light. It was dark outside and Tom had laid his head down on your bed while he was, probably, in a very uncomfortable position on the chair.

Benedict came around to drop of some clean clothes for Tom and the book he was reading to you. So now and then he would read to you while you slept.

You couldn’t remember much so you felt kind of panicked but seeing Tom and to feel his touch calmed you down. You went with your hands through his hair. He stirred a little and woke up. He looked at you and needed a little time to process. “Y/N, god you scared me so much darling” he said getting teary eyed again. You placed your hand on his cheek. “I’m here now. You’re not getting rid of me that easily” you said chuckling but coughed because your throat was so dry. He got up to get you some water and gave it to you. You drowned the whole glass.

You slept for a good 2 days straight. Tom stayed by your side the whole time.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. “Much better but exhausted.” He nodded. “what happened? I don’t remember much” you asked. He told you everything. You were shocked that you let it get this far with college and felt guilty. “scoot over sweetheart. I want to hold you” You did as he asked because you missed his warmth so much. You laid your head on his chest and he kissed your head. “I love you so much, please don’t scare me like that again” You just nodded. “I’m so sorry and I love you too”

“Darling don’t be sorry I just want you to take care of yourself” You nodded again. “I’m trying” you told him. “I know. Got to sleep darling, you need your energy” he told you and you looked up. “I missed you so much” you told him and he brushed his lips over yours before kissing you. “now sleep!” he said more commanding which made you chuckle.

~time skip~

You were aloud to go home the next day. But they sternly said that you were still on bed rest and really had to take it easy. Benedict picked you guys up and brought you home. Tom had already called your mom that everything was fine. When you were in the hospital Tom kept in contact with her on how you were. After an hour and a half you and Tom were finally alone again.

You plopped down on the couch. “no, no, no young lady, the doctor said BED rest. Now get your cute ass to the bedroom” Tom said stern. You pouted at him “but I have been laying down for 3 days now….. please let me sit down on the couch. or I will lay down on the couch” you said with a cheeky grin. “you better get your ass in that bedroom right now. I’m not asking again” Tom said but more serious. You knew he wasn’t joking. You led out a sigh.

“fine but only if you lay down with me! you hadn’t had much rest either. So I’m not going unless you’re going with me” This time it was his turn to led out a sigh “so bossy” he joked and you smiled innocent at him. “Fine” Tom said giving in.

Before you were getting in bed you stepped into the shower together. As sweet as Benedict was, changed the sheets of your shared bed when he picked up some stuff for Tom. Tom softly washed your hair. “We really need to bring flowers when I’m better. Just to say thank you for their help.” You told him. “That’s nice. But let’s get you better first alright?” you nodded.

He slowly brushed your hair. When he was done you turned around and stood on your tippy toes to give him a kiss. He sighed in the kiss from comfort. It turned passionately fairly quickly and Tom stopped you knowing what you were doing. “No.” he just said while his hands rested on your cheeks. You pouted again and Tom just chuckled at you antics. “you’re still sick. When you get better we’ll have all the time for other activities” he told you with a grin and a wink. He gave you a peck and put a towel around your body.

He dried you up nicely and put you in some fresh clothes. “Tom I can do that myself now.” You chuckled. “I know I’m just not letting you do that right now.” You both got into bed and laid face to face. His hand rested on your cheek and his thumb caressed your face. Your legs intertwined. He scooped closer to you so your foreheads were resting against each other. He gave you a tiredly long kiss and you curled up laying your head against  his chest. Both in each other arms slowly drifted you both into a much needed sleep.

[sigmalied]

Preview: Bly Anniversary Fic

Please enjoy this preview of a new, currently untitled Damie fic I have in progress. The preview is ~1,000 words of the fic’s opening section, establishing the premise of the story which is expected to be, at completion, around 15-20k words. Hopefully I can meet my self-imposed Oct. 9 deadline, but if not, the fic will certainly be completed sometime during the month of October. Preview starts below the read more line, thanks for reading.

— — —

At a loud metallic click, Jamie swiftly retracts her hands from the sink. Beneath the kitchen’s warm overheads she wipes suds away from her fingers to inspect her wedding ring, victim of an acute collision with the half-washed pan abandoned to soapy depths. Once she deems its golden gleam unblemished, Jamie dips her hands back in to work at a more cautious pace.

Several steps away, Dani speaks into the phone handset tethered to the wall. She’s engrossed with her conversation and hasn’t noticed Jamie’s near-mishap. Upon stealing a glance in her direction, Jamie eavesdrops Dani saying, “Mom, it’s fine. The room is perfectly fine. Don’t worry about us.”

Jamie finishes the pan, proceeds to cooking utensils, and lays out each on a towel beside the sink. She pauses to dry her hands and cuff one sleeve of her burgundy jumper to her elbow, from where it has unfolded and tumbled down the length of her arm.

It’s the twentieth day of December, 1996, and even as the holiday season races toward its holly-decked climax over weeks of planning, Jamie still struggles to accept this course of events as real and imminent. Within mere days they’ll be in Dani’s home state, visiting her mother and childhood surrogate family. Not under the strict guise of roommates or business partners, but as a married unit. The notion is almost too slippery and fantastical to commit to truth.

Defying all contrary expectation, Karen Clayton has invited them to stay in her house’s guest room — incidentally, what was once Dani’s childhood room — for two nights. Furthermore, Judy O’Mara is expecting them at her Christmas Day party, an event reserved for family, of which Dani has historically been considered a member. Jamie always found it remarkably generous, that the O’Mara clan continued embracing Dani as their own after the death of the one man linking her to them. And even now, with Dani married to someone wholly unrelated and, frankly, highly unorthodox, still they extend themselves to her.

Concealment has been Jamie’s lifelong aegis. Do not speak. Do not reveal. Do not confess. This policy keeps her ilk intact at the price of true freedom, but that is a small fee for a person who delights in privacy and has never required external validation to enjoy the details of her personal life.

Consequently, this trip is vastly more for Dani than for herself. Her own family is infinitesimal; Jamie intimately understands the pain of isolation and would see to it that Dani never has to suffer the same.

When Jamie next looks up, Dani meets her gaze and shares a secret expression. She rolls her eyes, crosses an arm over her middle, and taps her foot — all with a smile.

“Mom.” Dani adopts a tone of warning. “I’m gonna say something right now. You know what I’m gonna say.” Following a few seconds of silence, Dani delivers on her threat, “Jamie and I are married. Not only is one bed fine, it’s also big enough. I remember how big it was. It’s plenty of space.”

Highly amused, Jamie tears her attention away to resume her chore. Soon after, Dani concludes her call and helps stow dishes in their cabinets. Over the ceramic clatter, Dani shares, “You know what she said to me? She said: just don’t do anything weird.”

Jamie snorts. “Weird? Us?” She reaches to place a pair of drinking glasses on a high shelf. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I know she’s happy to have us,” Dani says, filing a handful of cutlery into the appropriate drawer. “But I guess she’s still… adjusting. I try not to get impatient with her, because, well, she’s trying. I can tell she’s really trying.”

“Yeah,” Jamie softly agrees. “That’s a good thing. It’s great, actually.”

Dani flashes a smile before continuing to think aloud, “And then there’s Judy. She’s so excited to meet you. I talked to her this morning. She asked if there’s anything special she could make you for dinner on Christmas, in case you’re not used to our food.”

“Been here almost a decade,” coolly remarks Jamie. She hangs the damp dish towel on the oven’s handle to dry and leans back against the sink. “Funny how everyone’s still under the impression that I’ve just stepped ashore.”

“She’s just trying to be welcoming. So, what should I tell her?” Following a giggle, Dani asks, “How about a nice mince pie?” She approaches Jamie to lay teasing hands on her middle.

Jamie suppresses a laugh. “Wouldn’t refuse one, but I’m definitely not putting anyone through the spare effort. As long as there’s turkey and gravy, I’m set.”

As Dani slides her hands around Jamie’s waist to hold her, Jamie lowers her gaze to admire the sedated plaid of Dani’s skirt. Her serene smile fades at a coalescing thought. Jamie asks, “They all know, right? We’re not surprising anyone?”

“Know what?”

“That I’m, uh, you know—”

“British?” Smiling with mischief, Dani frees a hand to tuck an unkempt lock of hair behind Jamie’s ear, then sweetly cradles her cheek in her palm.

While nearly nose-to-nose, Jamie struggles to contain her amusement and lowers her voice to say, “That I’m a woman.”

Dani’s smile loses a shade of vibrance during her contemplation. She strokes a conciliatory thumb over Jamie’s cheekbone before responding at length, “Mostly everyone.”

Jamie releases a steady sigh through her nose and peers downward, at their feet, to sever her gaze from Dani’s.

“Jamie.” Dani beseeches her returned attention. “It’s okay. Judy said she’ll make sure we feel welcome. She said not to worry about a thing.”

“She really said that? Exactly that?”

“Mm-hmm.”

When Jamie meets her eyes again, she’s hesitant, but eventually concedes a hushed, “Okay.”

Dani strokes the side of Jamie’s neck, to the collared shirt peeking out from beneath her jumper. There she tidies creased fabric then slides farther down to clutch her hand, still dishwater-warm. Quietly, Dani asks, “Do you know how much it means, that you’re doing this for me?”

A coy purse of lips precedes Jamie’s answer. “At least a bit more than the time I brought you ice cream after you sprained your ankle?”

“Yeah.” Dani laughs, her kind eyes illuminated by humor and affection. “Even more than that.”

[pretchatta]

prompt: holiday

dave said it's my turn to write a moons of rion fic

rating: teen; kanan jarrus/hera syndulla; 2.4k words

---

The Outer Rim planet of Rion was a tropical paradise. Beaches, bars and breathtaking views covered its surface, and the sight of the planet in the forward viewport made Kanan sigh with longing. So close, and yet so far.

It felt like he and Hera had been working non-stop for the past year. Between keeping the Ghost in fuel, the galley stocked, and working other (less well-paid, but Hera would argue more important) jobs, Kanan would like nothing more than to spend a few hours relaxing somewhere – anywhere – with Hera. They were something now; more than simply captain and crew, but exactly what that was Kanan hadn’t had time to find out.

He wouldn’t any time soon, either. This mission wasn’t even taking them to Rion itself, but to one of its moons. A quick pickup and then they’d fly straight back to Lothal to deliver it, get paid, and then move onto the next job.

Kanan sighed. “Remind me what the cargo is for this one?”

“I don’t know,” Hera replied absently as she steered the Ghost in an orbital path around Rion. Their destination appeared from behind the planet, the oceanic moon a deep blue colour dotted with small green-and-white islands. Just beyond it, its populated twin was also visible. “Vizago paid extra for discretion, but he didn’t offer me the dangerous goods fee, so I assume it’s at least safe.”

Kanan grimaced. “We’re relying on the integrity of a smuggler. I feel so reassured.”

“We need the credits, love. We’ve barely got enough fuel to make this delivery.” Hera gave the fuel gauge a worried look as the Ghost entered the moon’s atmosphere and they began their descent. Below them, taking up most of one of the smaller islands, Kanan could see a landing platform growing larger.

Hera touched the Ghost down with barely a bump. Had Kanan not realised months ago that his days of drifting were behind him, he knew he would find it very difficult to return to his old lifestyle. There were several comforts that came from crewing on the Ghost, the smooth landings being just one.

“Alright, let’s load up and get going.” Hera hit the ramp controls and led the way out of the cockpit.

Spaceport was a generous term for what greeted them outside. The battered landing platform was barely large enough for two ships, even though it took up most of the solid ground on the island, and the only permanent structure was a dilapidated single-storey hut. It looked like it was cobbled together from scrap, with the exception of the shiny solar panels stretched over the roof and the comm dish mounted haphazardly on one wall.

There were no windows, but the front door stuttered open as Kanan and Hera emerged from the Ghost. An ancient-looking prototype droid emerged, hobbling out towards them with slow, fitful steps.

“Welcome to landing site R-M2-S04,” it called out to them. Its mechanical voice was decidedly tinny. “I am C0-R4, the overseer droid for this location. Thank you for leaving your transponder on. Your ship has been identified as the Ghost.”

Droid-supervised transactions weren’t uncommon in their line of work. The handoffs were usually in remote locations like this one, and it was much cheaper to leave a droid to wait around than an organic being.

“We’re here to pick up Vizago’s shipment,” Hera told the droid.

“That is correct.” C0-R4 gave a jerky nod. “Your cargo will arrive in two days.”

“What?” Hera exclaimed. “Two days! We were told to come today, and that this job was time-critical!”

“Cikatro Vizago apologises for the unavoidable delay, but he understands that you have a fast ship.”

Hera glared at the droid, though Kanan knew her ire was in fact directed at their unreliable employer. “And what exactly are we supposed to do for the next two days?”

“I am not programmed for leisure itinerary planning,” it replied in its monotone. “I will be in low power mode until the shipment arrives. Good day.”

With that, the protocol droid turned and hobbled back into its hut. Hera stared after it in disbelief. Kanan, meanwhile, felt hope blooming in his chest.

“I know you’d rather get on with the job,” he said slowly, trying to keep his voice neutral, “but given our fuel situation, it looks like we’re staying in this system for the next two days. And since Rion’s right there…”

She turned to him with one eyebrow raised. His face must have shown more than he realised, because her eyes softened with sympathy.

“Kanan, I’d love to spend a few days on Rion with you, but we don’t have enough fuel to get there,” she said apologetically. “We barely have enough to take off and make it back to Lothal.”

Kanan was not deterred. “Okay, what about the Phantom? It has a separate fuel tank – we could take it to one of the resorts, stay for a few days and be back in time for the pickup.”

Hera shook her head. “I should probably siphon the Phantom’s fuel into the Ghost. We’re going to need it if we want the extra speed to make Vizago’s deadline.”

Kanan sighed. The captain's decision was final. “Fine. I guess we’re sitting here for two days eating stale rations. Hopefully the Ghost’s water purifier can handle the seawater.”

“Wait, rations? Don’t we have enough food?”

“We might have a couple dehydrated meal packs, but I was going to stock up when we got back to Lothal.”

Hera frowned. “I guess this is going to be a long two days.”

“It doesn’t have to be…” Kanan’s mind was racing as a new idea formed in his head. “Could you leave just enough fuel in the Phantom to make one trip to the other moon? It’s populated, and it’ll take less fuel to take off from because of the lower gravity. And right now it’s closer than Rion itself. I still have a few credits – not enough for fuel, but we could pick up some supplies, and then spend the next two days just relaxing here. It’s not exactly a luxury resort getaway, but it’s better than nothing.”

Hera looked unconvinced. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, Hera, we’ll still be able to make the delivery,” he pleaded. “And this way we can enjoy a few days of downtime! We’ve got nothing else to do, and it’s not like we’re going to get any trouble from the Empire out here.”

He could see her resolve wavering, and then–

“Okay, fine.”

Kanan resisted the urge to punch the air as she turned to walk back up the Ghost’s ramp.

“Chopper,” she called up to the cockpit, “work out the best course to the other moon, and be nice to the navicomputer this time! Then I want you to initiate a fuel transfer from the Phantom to the Ghost. Leave enough to make the trip to the other moon, Kanan and I will be going on a supply run when we get back.”

The old astromech blatted a question back at her from somewhere above them. Hera looked back at Kanan.

“We’re going for a walk,” she replied. “You’d hate it, you’d just get sand in your joints.”

Chopper made a rude noise, which Hera ignored.

“A romantic stroll along the beach, huh?” Kanan said, putting an arm around her waist.

“If we’re doing this, I should at least try to relax, and it seems like a good start.” Her arms snaked over his shoulders and around his neck, allowing him to pull her closer. Their noses brushed, lips an inch apart, but Kanan turned his head at the last moment to kiss her cheek instead.

“In that case…” he murmured against her earcone, and then dropped to his knees in front of her and gently lifted one of her knees. Hera complied, allowing him to raise her foot and slip her boot off it.

“You’re overdressed,” he continued. “Unlike Chopper, we can enjoy the feeling of sand between our toes.”

He finished removing her other boot, and looked up to see her smiling fondly down at him. He quickly shed his own boots, leaving both pairs just inside the cargo hold, and as an afterthought added his gloves. Hera did the same, allowing Kanan to take her bare hand and lead them back outside.

The beach was only a few steps away, and they strolled leisurely over the sun-warmed sand towards the brilliant blue water. Above, the odd fluffy white cloud floated in the teal-blue sky as the late afternoon sun shone down on the island. A faint breeze blew in from the sea, cooling the air and bringing with it the smell of salt.

Kanan ran his thumb over the back of Hera’s hand as a sense of calmness washed through him. Hera was right; the walk was a great idea. The sand was soft under his feet and with every step he could feel his body relaxing.

They stopped at the water’s edge, letting the waves lap at their toes. The water wasn’t exactly warm, but neither was it cold. They stood there for a few moments in comfortable silence, enjoying the tranquility.

Hera bumped her shoulder against Kanan’s. “Thank you,” she said. “I don’t think I would have let myself have a break if I’d been on my own, but… I needed this.”

He raised his eyebrows in mock astonishment. “Are you saying what I think you're saying?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “You were right, dear.”

He smirked, and then leaned down to kiss her. She rose onto her toes to meet him. As with every time their lips met, Kanan felt a jolt of electricity through his stomach; he didn’t think he’d ever get used to kissing Hera Syndulla.

They resumed their walk, following the coastline. Doing a full circuit of the island wouldn’t take long. As far as Kanan could tell, there was no wildlife on this moon, but the lapping of the waves and the slide of their feet over the sand made for a perfect soundtrack.

“So, do you have anything in particular you want to pick up on this supply run?” Hera asked him.

“I thought we could get some fancy caf,” he replied, “y’know, since we're on holiday. And then something simple to eat that we could have on the beach.”

“That sounds good to me.”

He turned to give her a look. “We may be on a budget, but I like to eat out.”

She only managed to keep a straight face for a few seconds before laughing.

They were distracted from further conversation by a wide rock formation on the far side of the landing platform. Several meters tall at its highest point, it looked like it was made up of numerous pillars of dark stone, jutting upwards out of the ground and ending in flat, irregular shapes. The lower ones around the edge held small pools of water from the last high tide, but they were taller towards the middle and beyond a certain point the tops were smooth and dry. The beach continued around the edge, the sand stretching between the rocks and the sea, but the Ghost and the overseer droid’s hut were hidden from view.

They approached the rocks with interest. Kanan was only half-aware of Hera’s hand slipping out of his as he went to examine one of the rockpools and so didn't notice the mischievous look that had come over her face. By the time he realised she was no longer beside him, she had already removed the outer layer of her flight suit and folded neatly atop one of the dry pillars. He could only watch, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, as she quickly and methodically worked on the rest of her clothing.

Hera carefully added her cap and goggles to the pile she had formed and then looked up at him. His heart beat faster at the sight of so much bare green skin. With a coy smile, she held his gaze as she slipped her underwear off and let it join the rest of her clothes.

“Fancy a swim?”

She didn’t wait for an answer; Kanan wasn’t sure he was capable of giving one. She turned and ran over the beach, lekku streaming behind her, splashing into the water until it was up to her neck.

She turned back to him and yelled “Well? Are you coming?”

It was enough to jolt him out of his shock. He’d left his armour behind today, so his shirt came off easily. The rest of his clothes followed in a somewhat messier pile than Hera’s, but creases weren’t on the forefront of his mind at that moment.

Kanan took off at a sprint towards the sea. When he was about halfway to the water he leapt, giving himself an extra push that made it higher and further than a leap any ordinary human should have been able to make. Tucking his knees into his chest in mid-air, he hit the surface with a splash, sending a wall of water over Hera. The cool water enveloped his body with swirls of white and blue. He kicked at the sandy sea bed to surface next to Hera, who was sputtering in protest.

Kanan wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

“You did invite me in,” he reminded her. His sodden hair was slicked back against his head and water dripped from the end of his nose. Further droplets ran over Hera's bare head and down her lekku, adding to the patterns already there.

“I didn’t ask for a tsu–”

He cut off her complaints with a wet kiss. She relaxed in his arms a second later, though he knew he had’t gotten away with it; she’d be planning her payback for later. He smiled against her lips and felt her mouth curve upwards in response. It really had been too long since they’d been able to just let go like this, to enjoy their time together and not have any pressing worries or responsibilities.

The kiss deepened, and Hera’s legs wound around his waist. Whoever's idea this had been, he thought to himself, it was definitely a good one.

[morgana-ren]

Just Business

Summary: You’re a loan shark looking to expand your enterprise to the League of Villains. Lucky for you, Dabi might just be willing to hear you out. As long as you can prove your loyalty to him, that is. 

Rating: E for not everyone. Explicit. Do I release anything else?

Baby’s first Dabi fic. Just testing the waters, folks. I know nothing about this man. Literally nothing.

Money lending is such a nasty business. 

Some poor sap shuffles in nervously shifting his fingers and recites some rehearsed script about why he needs the cash and how he’s good for it, and then you throw him a wad and pretend to make up some important deadline. He thanks you profusely and thumbs through the cash as he leaves, and you’ve still got your heels kicked up on your desk as you tell a goon to keep an eye on him. 

Sometimes their reaction to your ‘charity’ varies, but one thing always stays the same. They can never pay it back. 

Some run. Some try to hide. Some bolt the second the cash hits their fists, boarding the first train out of town. Some genuinely try to do the right thing. The result is the same. 

You track them down. Your boot, their neck. They cry, you extort. 

It’s not about the money. It never is. Wealth is fine and good but no amount of monetary fortune can amount to having another thread in the network web you’re building. You’ll let them off the hook and they’ll spy for you, lie for you, even put their neck on the line because they have no other choice. Info is worth infinitely more than a petty loan, and what you invest in their short sighted schemes is repaid tenfold. 

You knew something was up with the shifty little prick the second he walked in the door. He asked for an exorbitant amount and could never meet your eyes when he told you just what he planned to do with it. It sounded too rehearsed, even for your usual clientele. Almost like someone told him what to say and just how to say it. 

In this business, you learn to call a spade a spade, but even as he sat on his knees with his gaze shifted away from you and practically screaming tells, you felt there was something deeper. A truth buried deep within his lies. Something interesting. Something you wanted to know. 

You give the poor bastard the money. 

Sending a runner to watch his schedule confirms your beliefs. He walks into a dilapidated abandoned building not long after leaving the meeting with your thick wad of cash in hand and leaves with only a few bills, though he looks relieved for his trouble. You have his face, his name, a dossier on his entire life. He’s far too unguarded for someone into something so nefarious. Someone sent this little gnat into your domain and didn’t expect you to follow the thread. They were mistaken. Whoever this man works for, he’s the only lead into something deeper. 

Your little flies swarm the building only to find it empty. No trace of who you had been dealing with, no clues to lead you to the heart of your curiosity. Only dust splayed across concrete and a fire with the ashes still warm. 

All your contacts and all your pull only give you one lead: the League of Villains. 

A down-on-their-luck outfit of outcasts and outlaws. Their leader had been making some big moves with a large financier some months ago, but things turned disastrous and no one had heard a peep since. It doesn’t surprise you to hear they’re rebuilding, but what intrigues you is that they’re making such risky pulls to do it. Borrowing money they clearly cannot pay back from a loan shark with a reputation of ruthlessness. 

It should make you mad, being ripped off and deceived like that. 

It doesn’t. 

If anything, it tickles you. You didn’t even have to put out any feelers and they had loitered into your web. You’d had your eyes on them for some time, curious about their leader and their members. They could prove a worthy investment, if given the chance. You never had an in with them since they never needed your services, but it seems that they hand delivered one in desperation.

It becomes a matter of baiting and trapping. 

You wait and you listen. The debt date approaches and it’s only a matter of time. It doesn’t surprise you when the same man wanders back into your office and hands you a thick stack of bills, more than twice what you had offered him. You most definitely are surprised to find him returning but you accept his offering with a smile, running your finger along the bills to keep up appearances. 

“It seems you find yourself quite wealthy! You simply must tell me how you’ve made such a grand turn around!”

He swallows hard at your compliment, raising a hand to the back of his head and scratching nervously. “Luck, Ma’am. Nothing more. I find myself in fortune and simply wish to repay your great kindness.” 

“Of course.” You smile at him, allowing him to take his leave. Now the real game begins. 

Your little spies follow him as he weaves through the streets into the industrial part of town. He ducks into another decrepit building, closing the door firmly behind him. He emerges a few moments later only to tuck a receipt of payment and a few more bills into his shirt. The pace he has is slower now, more relaxed. He believes he’s free, shaken clean of your webbing and can breathe without fear now. 

How wrong he is. 

The look of terror on his face as you block his exit from the alley almost makes you feel sorry for him. He immediately becomes defensive, backing up several feet despite the absence of your body guards. He’s not afraid of you. He’s afraid of who is watching. 

“What are you doing here? I paid you!” 

“You have.” You acknowledge, bowing your head. “I’m not here for money. I simply ask for information. That’s not so terrible, is it? This doesn’t have to be unpleasant.”

“I don’t know anything!” 

“But of course you do!” You draw closer and he trips over his own feet, falling flat to the alley floor. “That money wasn’t for you, was it? You have no prospects, no family or land or investments of your own. Only a crippling gambling debt, yes? Paying debt doesn’t accumulate currency, so clearly you must have had some grand scheme. I’m very interested in your process.” 

You bend down, venom gathering behind your fangs as you stroke his petrified face with a cool finger. “From one brilliant mind to another. I’ll keep it a secret. I promise.”

“I- Well-” He looks around anxiously, stumbling over words but so close to breaking. It won’t take much on your part to get him to crack. 

Or it wouldn’t have, anyway. 

A bolt of vibrant blue flame speeds toward you from around a corner almost quicker than you can process and it’s only barely that you manage to dodge it by shoving yourself clumsily backward. The unbelievable heat from the blast doesn’t escape you, and you cover your face as the alleyway erupts in fire, engulfing your only lead in flames and incinerating him before you could make a move to save him and whatever it is he had to say. The smell of charred flesh is overwhelming and despite the obvious threat, you can’t help but smile. 

A tall figure walks fearlessly through the inferno, hands in his pockets and seeming almost bored as he kicks over the ashen figure that was human only seconds ago. “I knew we shouldn’t have trusted this idiot.” 

You stay silent, face shielded from the encompassing heat by your palm as he approaches. Inky black hair and a pale body covered in muldering skin, maroon scars stapled together with metal and sheer force of will. His threadbare coat billows around his feet as he trudges down the alleyway toward you. His eyes are a striking shade of blue, focused on you with an empty expression. 

The ends of your hair have singed and your face itches, but it’s nothing compared to the accomplishment you feel. You had a feeling that toying with some strings might bring the cat out to play. 

“So you’re one of the League.” 

You stand up, brushing the dirt off your knees and stabilizing yourself on the wall despite the overwhelming heat. 

“Sure. You’re that babe that lent us the money, right? That was nice of you.” He stops just short of you, arms withdrawing from his pockets and igniting with indigo flame. “Now why don’t you scram? You got your money, what happens from here isn’t your business.”

“Oh, it’s not all business.” You coyly tell him, running him once over with your eyes. “Sometimes it’s just pleasure. Are there other fine, strapping young lads like you in the League or am I just one lucky girl?”

“That depends.” He scoffs, puffing air out of his stapled cheeks. “Do you get any better at prying for information or is this the best you can do?” 

“Oh!” A dramatic gesture and you cross your hands over your heart, already coating your hands in sticky, silken thread. “You wound me!” 

“I’ll wound you a hell of a lot worse if you don’t get out of here.” His fist clenches, and a burst of ever increasing heat emanates from the fire engulfing his hand. “Last I checked, fire still kills spiders.” 

“You’d burn down your own home to kill a single little spider? I’m flattered.” 

Before he can retort, you kick one of your feet out behind you, jumping toward him and latching your legs around his midsection. Your hands are quick to wrap around his own as he tumbles to the ground, burning through the layers of webbing drooling from your fingers. The viscous cobweb coats his palms and successfully extinguishes his flames, if only for a moment. It won’t be long, but hopefully it will give you the time you need. You slather the mixture onto the ground next to his head, immobilizing his arms and trapping him beneath you. 

He looks panicked for a moment, trying desperately to activate his quirk, but it can’t get the air his fire needs to breathe through your gossamer web. You keep steady on his bucking hips, as chuckling he tries to pry his hands free of your thick, durable weave. Once he realizes it’s not going to happen and you haven’t killed him yet, he seems to relax, if only slightly. 

“So, it’s not just a nickname.” He muses, teal eyes focused on your fangs through your grinning lips. “You know, I kill spiders when they’re in my house.” 

You throw him a faux pout, grabbing his jaw with your middle finger and thumb and holding him steady as you inspect the staples that line his jaw. “You’re so cruel. I’m just trying to protect my web. You can’t truly blame me, can you? You’d do the same.” 

His hips thrash again and this time you don’t hold back the little moan it coaxes from you, His pupils dilate and for a brief second he seems frozen. At least before a smarmy smirk tugs at his upper lip. “You got your money, doll. I’m starting to think this isn’t business after all.”

“Maybe it’s not.” You lean down, running your tongue across the textured expanse of his neck and stifling a giggle when he stiffens. “Maybe I see potential in your little group and I want in.” 

“That’s nice of you.” He juts his face toward you only for you to pull back. “But it’s really not up to me.” 

You withdraw your hand from his jaw and run it down his chest instead, fingertips slowly stimulating the rough, scarred skin beneath his neck. “Then who is it up to?” 

“That would be the boss.” He grins, one hand breaking free of your web and immediately finding purchase in your hair. You go to grab his wrist but he tuts you, threatening you with a familiar warmth on your scalp. Long, skinny fingers coil around your roots and yank your head back, and eventually his other hand breaks free, coming up to grip at your waist. “And he’s going to want nothing to do with you.” 

He pulls you down closer to him, the moist heat from his breath collecting on the side of your neck as he keeps you steady on top of him. You can feel him hardening between your legs and you can’t help but wiggle your hips to bolster the sensation. 

“What do I need to do, then?” 

“I’d be willing to put in a good word for you,” The hand on your waist slides down to grip your ass, clenching the fatty skin and slowly moving you back and forth atop his hips. “If you’re okay with working for it.” 

“You’d be so generous, yeah?” You gyrate your lower body against him, feeling the head of his cock poking your clit through his rough jeans. 

“You’d be surprised what I’ll do if you make it worth it.”

“I guess I have no choice then.” Your tongue runs over the point of your fangs, swallowing back all the venom you’d had so ready. Sometimes it’s easier to catch flies with honey than vinegar, and you had the sweetest honey of all right between your thighs. 

“Say the word and I’ll let you walk away, babe.” His fingers loosen their hold on your body but don’t relinquish entirely. “But if you don’t, I’m going to need you to prove your loyalty.”

You push his body down with your chest until the back of his head meets the gravel, allowing him to keep his hold on you. “I’m very loyal.” 

Your tits squish against his pecs and he sneaks a less than inconspicuous peak at them, cock throbbing against your apex. “Prove it.”

You don’t need any further prompting. He almost protests as you shake his hand free and scoot back farther down his legs, at least until he realizes what you’re doing. Your deft fingers work at the buttons of his jeans, yanking them down to his thighs before resituating yourself and working on your own buttons, pulling at them painfully slowly. Once you’ve both exposed yourself to the open air, you can’t help but look at his cock, thick and bobbing against his stomach. It’s one of the only parts of him that isn’t scarred and latched with metal, but the weeping tip looks so inviting. Every bone in your body wants to take him in your mouth and make him see God through sheer force of tongue, but you’ve got a job to do and there’s no time for play. Not this time anyway. 

You sit up on your knees until he’s aligned with your hole, sinking down just enough to tease him with your tightness. He groans, trying to pull you down further, but you’re not having it. You arch your back, keeping your knees steady and allowing only the very tip of his cock to enter you. 

“Fuck- hurry it up, would you?” 

You grab his hands and push them down by his head again, sinking down on him as slow as you possibly can. His eyes roll back in his head, and he hisses all manner of curses as you situate him nice and snug between your suffocating walls. The head of his cock prods at your cervix as you sit on top of him but the fullness stuffed between your thighs forces a breathy moan from you. 

He gives you no time to adjust to his girth, pumping his hips up into you as you’re still catching your breath. “Shit! You’re pretty fuckin tight, babe!” A shiver rolls down his back as his hands move to your hips and try to force you harder up and down against him

“So impatient.” You croon, licking up his neck again before sinking your fangs deep into the rough tissue. 

“Fuck!” 

He’s almost ready to shove you off of him before you start rolling your hips, letting his cock burrow deep into your silken cunt again and again, running your tongue along the column of his throat and nipping softly to gain his trust. You’re not trying to poison him, not now. Your job right now is to gift him pleasure, and so you will. 

“Risky-” He huffs in your ear, one hand smacking down hard enough on your ass that you yelp. “Toying with me like that. I can guess what those fangs can do.” 

“If only you knew everything.” You sigh, letting his hands go in favor of pulling back, your palms finding his knees behind you as your back arches and puts your tits on display for him. 

He can’t resist. The only thing separating him from your chest is a flimsy shirt which he quickly disposes of, heating his fingers enough that the fabric begins to shred before he swiftly pulls it apart. He quickly takes advantage of the fact that your milky tits are within reaching distance, latching on to a nipple and sucking almost painfully. 

A high pitched keen escapes your throat as he puffs and hollows his cheeks, slobbering on your chest with one hand on the crook of your shoulder to keep you anchored close. His cock pummels your insides, pelvis stimulating your clit as you ride him. You’re clinging to control but you can feel it slipping with every sloppy lick of his tongue and every brutal thrust of his hips. His heaving becomes more and more erratic, moist breath practically burning your chest on the odd second he pulls away to watch your face. Your eyes close and you lose yourself in the euphoria of his cock, letting him hit you deep and hard just where you need it. Eventually, he releases your nipple from his mouth and you figure you’re both about to cum. 

That comes to a screeching halt when he slows his pistoning, grabbing your waist with both hands and keeping you from riding him either. 

“What the hell!” You whine, trying and failing to chase your rapidly disappearing orgasm. 

“Dabi.” He hisses, bringing a hand up and kneading your breast with fingers that are too hot to handle, squeezing your nipple and sending another jolt of hot pleasure between your legs. 

“What?” 

Your teeth are clenching, active frustration boiling in your gut. You were so close. Somehow he knows, but he knocks you off of him, watching with mirthful eyes as you land on your butt beside him. Instead of mocking you, he sits up and quickly pulls off his coat, throwing to the ground behind him and spreading it around haphazardly. Before you have time to question, he lurches forward, grabbing you by the throat and throwing you down onto the fabric beneath him. 

“I wanna hear you say it.” He says, maneuvering your legs open and placing his thick cock back at your drooling cunt. “When you cum on my dick, I wanna hear you say my name.” 

He refuses to move until you acknowledge him, so you do. 

“P-please? Dabi?” 

“Good girl” He purrs, plunging inside you again so fast you hardly have time to recover. The hand around your neck heats and you scream, at least until a pair of charred lips forces themselves against your open ones. He pounds into you with renewed energy, slamming with a force that jerks your head back with every thrust. The hand that isn’t firmly clasped around your throat finds its way between your legs and rubs in tight, calculated circles. His slick tongue worms into your throat, licking the front of your teeth.

“You’re cute-” he huffs into your open mouth. “I might keep you around. You’re more useful to me as a whore than a loan shark. Is that what you want, doll? To take my loads in your warm little holes? I’ll take real good care of you.”

You want to tell him no. You have a business, a mission. But as he drills deeper inside you, you’re so close to saying whatever he wants so long as he doesn’t stop. The electric warmth between your thighs is rapidly building, coiling up and ready to burst and you’ll say whatever he wants as long as he keeps fucking you. 

Some part of him must sense this, because he pulls away from your throat, weaving his fingers up through the crown of your head again and pulling you up to face him. His eyes are glazed, sweat dripping down his temple and he huffs breath through his nostrils that’s practically steam at this point. 

“Beg me to cum.” 

“Please-” 

His fingers work against your clit but just enough to keep the pleasure from fading. You need it faster. You need it harder.

“More!” 

He hums and licks up your lips, slipping his tongue between your teeth again for a brief second. “What’s the magic word?” 

The fingers on your pussy heat slightly as he applies more pressure, watching you through heavily lidded eyes as you writhe and squirm. 

“D-Dabi!” 

“Such a good girl. Say ‘Dabi please let me cum!”

It’s degrading and filthy but fuck you want it. Plus, remember, this is just business. Right?

“Dabi! P-Please let me cum on your cock! Please! I-I need-!” 

He bites down on your bottom lip before the words can leave your swollen tongue. Your body wiggles restlessly as you wait for him to give you what he promised. 

“Good girls get rewards.” 

His hips pull back and shove almost impossibly deep inside, forcing a loud cry from you before he slams mouth down onto yours. His fingers work overtime on your engorged clit, utilizing the wetness seeping from your hole as his cock thrusts in and out. His tongue worms past your lips again and explores every inch he can reach, chuckling as you moan shamelessly into his mouth. 

Though he starts off with a precise rhythm, it quickly becomes erratic as he chases his own pleasure while delivering yours. The hand at your apex is working overtime and the one in your hair is warm enough that you’d likely be a bit worried if you had the mental capacity. He uses both of them to maneuver you to his precise liking, fucking into you like you’re a pliable little doll built solely for his pleasure. 

He’s mumbling incoherently, breathing hot and heavy against your cheek. Your needy moans and whimpers only drive him to move faster and harder as your own hips work double time to meet his powerful pulsating. If you weren’t the one making the noises, you never would have believed it was you. 

“Fuck- shit! Gunna cum nice and deep in your pretty little cunt! Gunna make sure you’re dripping for days-“ He cuts off partway through to let out a heafy groan as you clench your muscles tighter to milk him. “God, so fucking tight-“

Your orgasm is approaching quickly, pain from his bony hips digging into the fleshy fat of your thighs barely a whisper compared to the white hot pressure building at the base of your spine. You can feel his cock twitch against your cervix with every punch against it and you know he’s close too. 

You dig your nails in, fingers clamped against his shoulders and using his movements to build your own momentum. The cacophony of moans between you two becomes louder and more unhinged, him whispering depraved fantasies in your ear that only drive you further to completion. Your head falls back down to the ground as you lose the ability to keep it up any longer, cord finally snapping and unraveling as he throws you over the edge. 

You practically scream as he continues fucking you through your orgasm, legs constricting ever tighter around his narrow hips as you push yourself up harder to chase every ounce of sensation he has to offer you. Stars dance behind your shut eyes and your entire body buzzes with prickling bliss that radiates from your core. You can’t feel the pain in your knees from the asphalt before he flipped you or the localized ache from him ripping at your hair; only the overwhelming, pulsing euphoria as he continues to hit that sweet, spongy spot deep inside you as you ride out your peak. 

His animalistic grunts turn even more primal as your walls flutter around his thick cock, clenching and pulsing around him until he can’t hold back the tide of cresting pleasure anymore. Hot cum floods your insides, so warm you swear it nearly burns you. He continues pumping as it begins to leak from inside you, obscene squelching echoing from the point of entry. He turns his head, finding the crook of your neck and biting down hard enough you cry out, marking you one last time as he continues to stroke himself with your cunt until every last drop has been drained. 

His cock throbs for a moment before slowly softening inside you as he tries to see straight. You’ve yet to open your eyes, only twitching in overstimulation as he withdraws his hand from between your slippery thighs. He allows you to catch your breath for a moment before lightly pushing himself up off of you, careful not to hurt you. 

You slowly regain the ability to move your body and rollout from underneath him, wobbling legs dropping you back onto the cement instead of allowing you to stand when you try. It’s a struggle to pull up your pants since your legs have decided they no longer want to work, but somehow you manage to get them pulled up and buttoned, Dabi’s cum seeping from between your thighs and staining onto the fabric. Dabi himself hoists himself to his feet, using the wall as support. He’s trying desperately to seem unaffected but you don’t miss the falter of his legs like a newborn fawn when he first rises to his feet. 

“Thanks doll, that was fun.” He somehow manages to bend over and grab his coat from the floor, snaking his arms through the armholes and readjusting it over his chest. “I think I’ll be in touch.”

You raise your head, cocking an eyebrow at him. “You think?”

“I dunno.” He shrugs, beginning his walk back down the alleyway where he came from. He turns to look at you one last time, sly grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “I might need some more convincing.” 

[octosan]

Progress Update and New Years

So! It’s been a while since my last progress update, and the end of the year is approaching is here. What I would like to do first is quickly discuss how far I’ve gotten in Silence to the Eyes in terms of the writing, coding, art, and sound design. Then I’ll go over what I was able to accomplish of my goals for this year, and my plans going into next year. Mind you, it’s not all related to the one game.

Silence to the Eyes Progress

As I have whined about on occasion, I've been having issues with my wrist health which have repeatedly interfered with my work. In the past I believed it to be a result of Carpal Tunnel, like most people who work without breaks on content. Turns out my wrist pain is the result of a condition more serious than CTS. It put progress on my game--any game--on hold for months this year. However, I've done a lot of work to get my symptoms under control, and I've been able to do more work as a result. Progress has started back up, albeit more slowly than before. So that's nice

Unfortunately a lot of my work on Silence to the Eyes hasn't been visual--I've been fleshing out and coding in more of the game story and mechanics (what few there are) which I can't show you. I'd say I'm about three-fourths of the way done on the story at this point, not counting the revision process. 

In terms of art, I've been starting work on finishing more of the character portraits. There are a lot of character portraits in this game, so I still have a lot of work to do, but I do have some of the more major characters done. I do also have more backgrounds, though those are being done by a separate artist and their creation relies more on my finishing the story to know what I need for them.

As far as music and sound design, I've only dabbled in that a little bit. ;w; Haven’t got much I feel like sharing. Those are more of a late-stage thing for me.

Now that I've been doing a bit better healthwise, I'm hoping to work more quickly on my game. My goal is to complete it this year.

New Years 2021

SO let's take a look at my last New Year's post and what I promised to do last year…

As far as working on games go, I did make a new one in 2021, and I've been learning how to use Visionaire Studio as I mentioned (more on that in a bit.) I didn't finish Silence to the Eyes, of course, but I haven't given it up either, and I did deliver on getting the prequel-esque demo out. 

My work on translyrics have sputtered, but I did make several revisions on my Evillious lyrics, and completed at least a couple requests and lyrics of my choosing. 

So all in all, I'd say I made decent progress in light of all the stuff going on irl.

New Years 2022

My resolutions for this year will be simple:

I want to finish Silence to the Eyes, and I want to start exploring RPG Maker (whether or not I finish a game on it) as well as potentially Unity. 

I also want to finish a game with Visionaire Studio, a point-and-click engine. In that vein, I actually do have a short game almost fully completed on it, so you can look forward to seeing that soon, hopefully some time in January. It has walk cycles in it and everything! :O

It was supposed to be a jam game, but I think I might have to keep out of jams for a while. Rushing to meet deadlines isn't good for my condition orz. Does mean I can put more effort into it than I originally planned, though.

Other than that, I still want to do lyrics on this blog. I may not be good at filling out requests right now though. I deeply apologize for those who sent in requests, if you're still following this blog. It's just a hobby, though, ultimately.

I think that's it for this year, at least as far as things I'll be putting on this blog.

Happy New Year, be safe and be well!

[krsnbgirl]

Fly High! || Masterlist || Kageyama x Fem!Reader Series

Summary: Attending Karasuno High School was your way of starting over and moving on from your injury in middle school. What you didn’t expect was to be pulled back into the world that you tried so hard to stay away from. Along the journey of recovery, you didn’t think you would grow close to Karasuno’s Boys Volleyball Team. Also falling in love with a certain setter was definitely something you didn’t expect at all. There’s one thing in common that you two share and that it’s wanting to fly as high as you can.

Pairing: Kageyama Tobio x Fem!Reader

Genre: Rom-Com, Slice of Life, Sports, Slow Burn

Warnings: Slight swearing, Anxious characteristics, Smoking (Ukai), Timeline based off of the anime (starting from season 2)

Author’s Note: I realized that I haven’t made a masterlist for this story, so here it is! Hopefully this can help with reading all of the parts that have been or are going to be posted! Taglist is still open if any of you would like to be a part of it! Also crossed posted on AO3! xoxo, Ren  ❤

TAGLIST OPEN

Part 1

Word Count: ~3.4k Synopsis: The school buzzes with curiosity after news of the boys volleyball team got close to beating Aoba Johsai at the Inter-HIgh Prelims. You check in with your best friend Nishinoya and Shimizu calls you to the gym for some help. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside a gym and it brings back so many forgotten memories and feelings you’ve cast aside after your accident.

Part 2

Word Count: ~3.1k Synopsis:  Still reeling over what had happened the week before, you look back at how your daily life at Karasuno immediately changed for the better. Nishinoya also comes to ask you for a favor that helps you grow closer to the weird quick duo after school. The boys also learn more about your past from middle school.

Part 3

Word Count: ~2.9k Synopsis:  The volleyball club is very keen on making you join and you find yourself slowly giving in, despite having doubts about yourself. You also find yourself naturally gravitating towards Kageyama without realizing it after one of their practices. Kageyama also finds himself questioning the effects you have on him. 

Part 4

Word Count: ~3.8k Synopsis:  With the deadline for your response to being Karasuno's coach approaching, it's all that you can think about. Kageyama bumps into you and shares his thoughts about your situation. It doesn't go as smoothly as either as you hoped but in the end, Kageyama learns that maybe he'd found someone that understands him.

Part 5 

Word Count: ~3.1k Synopsis:  Hinata and Kageyama come over for a tutoring session since exams are right around the corner. Finally, they have a chance to have a little peek of your personal life at home after getting to know you more through your lunch time tutoring sessions. Kageyama also touches base with you about your decision which has finally come to an answer.

Part 5.5 || Side Chapter

Word Count: ~1.4k Synopsis:  You head to Ukai’s store to have a conversation. He learns about some of your past and what your future goals were before coming to Karasuno. You both also come up with some new ideas that can help during practice.

Part 6 

Word Count: ~3.4k Synopsis:  Exams at Karasuno are finally finished. While you talk about exam results with Hinata and Kageyama, he notices something you’ve recently found out and the two of you grow a little closer now that he’s found out your little secret. Then fast forward to the training camp, you reunite with old friends and for old time’s sake, play a small game with them.

Part 7 

Word Count: ~2.5k Synopsis:  The first day of training camp has come to an end and the night is still young. After thinking about the boys’ current status at the camp, you spend some times with the rest of the managers. The topic of boys come up and you can’t help but spill your secret to them. As the night goes on, you end up at the gym and try to get in some personal training in when Kageyama shows up. You finally get to have a moment with the one person who has recently been taking up all of your thoughts.

Part 8 

Word Count: ~3.5k Synopsis:  Tensions are high between Hinata and Kageyama during their time in Tokyo. You can’t help but be on the sidelines and only step in when it’s necessary. Kuroo checks in with you and tries to help you relax during one of their breaks. Also, you show Kageyama that you’re going to be there for him whenever things get tough and he appreciates you for being by his side.

Part 9

Word Count: ~4.8k Synopsis:  You finally figure out what’s been missing for the crazy duo’s quick and it’s all thanks to Ukai dragging you along to meet his grandfather. The rest of the boys are also doing their best to improve with the new practice regimen that you put together and you mainly helped Kageyama with his sets for further accuracy. Practice isn’t the only time you’re with Kageyama, but you’ve also become his personal tutor when it comes to school work. As time passed, you managed to grow closer to the socially awkward setter and the two of you begin to realize that it could be something more.

Part 10 

Word Count: ~5.1k Synopsis: The team has a field day when they see you come in to practice late. Their teasing is relentless and it sticks with you throughout the whole day. You can’t help but think about the situation you’re in with Tobio and an old friend helps you find clarity. Then when Tokyo Camp is finally in session, you end up over pushing yourself and Shimizu tells you to rest for the first half of the day. While you’re resting the boys find out what happened to you and they need to figure out who’s going to check up on you before their practice matches begin.

Part 11 

Word Count: ~2.9k Synopsis: You wake up to find Kageyama delivering the food that the rest of the managers reserved for you. While eating, you get to see the rare side of soft Kageyama and the small time frame you have with each other, it shows that both of your walls are slowly coming down. Then after having a late start to the day, the boys show how much they’ve missed you and as the day goes on, some priceless moments are finally captured through your infamous Polaroid.

Part 12 

Word Count: ~3.5k Synopsis: The boys have been working as hard as ever during the training camp and Kuroo gives you some updates on what happened during free practice the night before. Then later that day, Nishinoya checks in on you during one of their breaks and a bet is made between the two of you. And as the day comes to a close, as usual, you’re practicing with Kageyama and both of you lose track of time. This time, you’ve accidentally pushed yourself past your limits and your injury acts up again.

Part 13

Word Count: ~3k Synopsis: The girls recap what happened the night before and Kuroo decides to have a talk with Kageyama when he and Bokuto visits your nightly practice with Kageyama.

Part 14 

Word Count: ~4.6k Synopsis: It’s the final day of Karasuno’s training camp in Tokyo and the boys find out about the barbecue that will happen once they are all finished. Sugawara offers Kageyama some help before their last practice game and you finally get to see the quick that you’ve been dying to see in person. Then once the barbecue is in full swing, you catch up with your childhood friends and Kageyama finally asks you a question.

Part 15 

Word Count: ~3.7k Synopsis:  You finally have lunch with Kuroo and Bokuto where you catch them up with the night before. They comment throughout your story and as they walk you to Homura’s apartment to catch up with your girls, Daichi calls you out of nowhere. The call leads you to the girls’ gym at Karasuno after the weekend ends and a new opportunity awaits.

Part 15.5 || Side Chapter

Word Count: ~1.7k Synopsis:  You get your hair dyed while hanging out with Rui, Homura, and Nishinoya. In the midst of hanging out, you get caught texting Kageyama and your friends do what they always do: instigate and get to know the boy you’ve been crushing on.

Part 16

Word Count: ~4.9k Synopsis:  It’s finally the day for your date with Kageyama and you can’t help but feel so nervous. He surprises you by taking you to your favorite place and the day is filled with constant blushing while spending time with your crush.

Part 17

Word Count: ~5.3k Synopsis:  Qualifiers for the Miyagi Prefecture has finally arrived. Being back at a competition venue made you nostalgic and you end up making another bet with Nishinoya. In order to prepare for the long day ahead, you grab some water for the team and someone approaches you.

Part 18

Word Count: ~5.3k Synopsis:  With school back in session, your schedule with the girl’s volleyball team finally collides with your time as the boys’ manager. It’s something you’ve put off for a while and finally have to address with the team.

Part 19

Word Count: ~4.2k Synopsis:  During the two months that the boys have before the Spring Nationals, Kageyama does recon and your schedule starts to look more hectic. Then during one of your trips to Tokyo for another training camp, Bokuto decides to have his talk with Kageyama and it makes him realize some things about himself.

Part 20

Word Count: ~4.1k Synopsis:  Spring Nationals/Qualifiers has finally arrived and the boys are ready for their first match against Johzenji. As you all make your way towards the gym, Kageyama and Hinata end up bumping into Terushima. Then once their match starts, Kageyama ends up getting injured and there’s an unexpected turn of events when you take him to the nurse’s office.

Part 21 

Word Count: ~3.9k Synopsis:  The girls try to get out what happened between you and Kageyama and the boys win against Johzenji. Now that it’s the second day of matches after successfully beating Wakutani, Karasuno gets ready to go against Aoba Johsai. And knowing what had happened before, you prepared a small surprise in hopes to boost the boys’ morale for their upcoming battle.

Part 22

Word Count: ~4.4k Synopsis:  The long-awaited battle against Aoba Johsai is in full swing as you watch along the sidelines. Tensions are high and it can’t help but remind you of memories you kept close to your heart. While watching, it reminds you of just how much the boys have grown in such a small amount of time.

Part 23 - TBD