#why do i type do slow. how did this take 3 whole hours

[autisticlee]

almost every time I have met online friends irl, they stop talking to me either immediately after or very soon after, usually after increasingly acting weird or distant towards me. it makes me feel awful. and then i'm afraid to meet anyone irl again.

I feel so silly and stupid that I have a lowkey fear creeping below the surface about going to visit my friend and their gf this summer. what if they end up hating me 🙃 i've thought about mentioning it to my friend, but I don't want to make them feel bad about it!!!!!! it's not their fault I feel this gross fear. they didn't do anything to make it happen. they're super excited and always tell me about it!! i'm the one that is struggling to feel excited because i'm haunted by past experiences that will not stop repeating like i'm stuck in an endless loop of hell!!!!! 😭

I try to remind myself that thos friend also

I seem to give off this bad vibe irl that everyone except me notices and it makes people want to avoid me. I don't know what it is or how to fix it but I wish I could!!!! perhaps i'm just simply not likable 🥲 i've had people want to be roommates and act like best friends meet me irl and suddenly start avoiding me until they straight-up ghost me. I don't understand 😔

i'm very willing to work on myself....if I knew wtf was wrong with me!!!!! but I do not!!

I also fear it's something I can't change and it's something that's part of me, so I literally can't do anything unless I mask and become a fake person. but that's so uncomfortable and lonely in itself and feels pointless. what if it's just normal autism traits and people are assholes???? then I have no choice in the matter.

everyone tells me i'll ~find the right ones~ or whatever. befriend other autistic or ND people. but it never matters. they all end up the same in the end!!!!! fellow autistic and adhd people have hurt me MORE than NTs!!! do you know how many times I thought I did find "the right people," made them promise to not do what the last ones did, promise to respect my needs and boundaries, and promise to be honest and talk everything out, but then a little while down the way they do exactly the same shit they promised not to that everyone else did?!

when the same shit keeps happening over and over, at what point does it stop being "other people are the assholes" and become "im obviously the problem" ??????? i'll have people tell me it's not me that's the problem. it's other people. those same people will become "the other people" themselves. so is it REALLY them that's the problem, or am I too goddamn stupid to know what's wrong with me and what i'm doing wrong ?!

sometimes people will put a blame on me but not tell me why it's me. just a broad statement with no details that point fingers at me. "you're gaslighting me" (after opening up to a close friend group about a difficult thing I had just experienced and that was the response one gave and then completely ghosted with no explanation, leading to the whole group abandoning me)

sometimes people will complain about certain things I can't help. "you ruined my whole day!" (some girl telling me this, a few months later after kicking me out of a group. I needed help navigating nyc subway to the bus station because my phone GPS didn't work there and she said it was ok, she'd gladly help me. then yelled at me about it a while later when she got mad about something else, about how I ruined her day that time by making her help me and being a burden 🙃✌️)

sometimes someone will drop out basically mid conversion, get extremely distant, go from replying with novels to one word replies until not responding at all, then suddenly block me a year later after ignoring me. only to come at me with "you stopped caring about me and haven't messaged me in a year" despite our last messages being me saying I miss them, them saying they've been busy (despite having the time to talk to multiple other people and ppat their message screenshots online every day and be online all the time) and me responding telling them to message me when they aren't busy so we can chat again, but never getting a response!!) only for them to admit they muted me and didn't want to talk to me "for no reason" they literally said that to me lmao wtf. how is there "no reason"

sometimes it IS them that's the problem though. like one girl who accused me of liking her and sabotaged our whole friendship based on these baseless delusions she had. sje decided she was going to "choose" to be straight (she's bi) and decided i'm a "man" (I was trans masc and starting my transition at the time, but am actually nonbinary. it was just required to be trans masc where I live to get treatment. nb people aren't allowed) and she decided guys and girls can't ever be "just friends" she even got very upset at me when I told her she's wrong and not even my type and i'm asexual/probably aromantic. she claims I ~knew saying that would hurt her~ because she apparently told me that kind of thing hurts her before. I did not know this, she never told me this. that's also a weird thing to think/say??? saying it upsets you that someone ISNT attracted to you but also being upset and ruining the friendship if they are??? what the fuck lmao. goofy behavior. I thought she'd be delighted to hear she was wrong about that but nope. she wanted to feel good that someone liked her even if it cost the friendship. haha weird 🙃 she also talked shit about me being autistic at one point lol. fellow ND being a ND hater. sue was all kinds of messed up, but at least I knew it was for sure her that was the problem and not me this one time. but she wasted so much of my time and energy that I can't get back.

it's not always clear why people do what they do, and it drives me insane until I can figure it out. most of the time I cannot. so I go on knowing i'll unknowingly fuck everything up yet again. it feels guaranteed.

I just want a stable and comfortable friendship that's close and secure. one I know will last. one where I can relax and enjoy the time with the other person and not have to be hyperaware of every little detail and look out for potential patterns I recognize that every friendship seems to fall into just like the last, that will lead to the same shit. then force me to have to try harder to save the friendship before it gets worse!!!! but trying seems to make it worse somehow. I don't fuckijg know.

I AM TIRED AND EXHAUSTED AND DONE. i've reached the point where I don't have the energy or willpower to try getting closer with anyone and have to sit here feeling lonely and disconnected from everyone. I don't feel like I have even one single person I can trust or rely on. not one. if I go to anyone, i'll just burden and annoy them. they can say I won't all the want, but that's always a lie. always. last time I trusted a group wo told me that, I got told I was gaslighting them. not told why or how. but apparently losing a thing important to me and confiding in my closest friends about it is "gaslighting" now and is justification to cancel me from our group trip and then not invite me back into the group chat when I switch accounts LOL.

after that shit, I just cannot. I genuinely thought that were "THE ONES" you know, those mythical "the right people" i'm alwaus being told about thar apparently exist. but every time I find them, I am wrong. so I have no fucking clue what to even look for. they seemed so good at first!!!! how do I find better???? and how do I not fuck it up wven thought I can't figure out what the FUCK I did wrong by sharing a very deep, personal, important thing with my closet trusted friends?!

if "the right people" can't even accept me then wtf am I supposed to do??? I feel like I either deserve this, not having friends or anyone to rely on, or I just have to accept that i'll always be alone. maybe I can have little casual surface friendships....but I'll never have anything deeper and closer. i'll never have the type of thing I feel I need that's hard to explain. maybe it's just the trust of knowing something will last and is stable. i've never had that. i've been walking on egg shells my whole life around everyone. and its so uncomfortable and sucks. it makes me feel so goddamn lonely. especially when I see everyone else has their person or people.

and don't get me wrong, i'm fine with being alone by myself. if I lock myself up and don't see or pay attention to others, i'm perfectly fine and don't feel lonely. it's as soon as I see other people being together, and ESPECIALLY when i'm woth other people that I feel this deep and painful sad/loneliness that doesn't go away until i'm away from people for a while again. but even of i'm enjoying my alone time, there's often things I want to do that require others, so I can't do them and it makes me feel bad. my old therapist telling me last time I was avoiding people due to (unknown at the time) autistic burnout, that we are a social species and require interaction with other people, so I NEED to make friends and interact with others always echos in my mind. I wish I DIDNT need others and can lock myself up alone forever. that feel less painful than trying to be with others. seeing and being with others makes me feel awful and alone. being literally alone feels comfortable and not lonely, most of the time. as long as I have a single-person hyperfocus to occupy my entire existence with.

but despite feeling like this, the burnout I hit from losing several important things to me at once about a couple years ago and my friend group ditching me when I needed them most is debilitating and still going strong. I feel like this is my new permanent state of being. I don't have the energy to put any effort into friendhips. if they don't maintain themsleves or the other person doesn't put in most of the effort, I WILL let it die and act like I don't give a fuck (I do, I just don't have the power to stop it). it's all on the other person's shoulders to carry the friendship the way I carried all the ones in my past. it's my turn to be the unresponsive friend who doesn't put in effort and responds with one word. not because I secretly hate the person/friendhipz but because i'm perpetually burnt out and literally can't do much anymore. I just can't.

that doesnt mean I can't keep complaining about how lonely and disconnected I feel!!! just because i'm not trying to fix it doesn't mean my feelings are invalid! "just keep trying" only works for people who have the ability to try. my ability was destroyed and am now unable. I would need a miracle of a person who puts in enough effort and genuinely cares enough about me to nurse me out of burnout hell to the point where I can put full trust and faith into them and call them my best friend.

but I doubt that will happen. I won't believe it until I see it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! being "positive" and hoping for the best keeps biting me in the ass and makes the fall hurt even more. I do not have the spoons and willpower and energy for that again i'm sorry 😭

wow this was a long ramble. it's taken me 2 hours to write this. I just wrote exactly what my brain was saying and rambled off topic. this was originally supposed to be about how, while I want to be excited to visit my friend and their gf, it's really hard to because all my past experiences make FEAR lurk around every corner.

I expressed an anxiety to my friend about the trip but only said it was about going to the airport and flying for the first time ever. and alone at that. if I tell them about this little hell demon on my shoulder, it may upset them. they're always telling me how they're so excited and I can't ruin that!!!! the more excited they are, the more comfortable/less worried I feel i'm allowed to be about it??? I NEED that energy personally. and I want them to keep that for themsleves as well. especially when it's not that I don't trust THEM. I don't trust myself. I could do any number of things wrong and make a good, fun, exciting trip go bad, or create a bad after-effect that makes it all slowly break down after. my friend expressed even wanting me to move in with them and their gf. be roommates. where have I heard that one before lmao. multiple other times before a seemingly good friendship gets destroyed for unknown reasons 😭

I hate that my brain has to live this way thanks to past traumas. cptsd mixed with autism/adhd is literally hell. but when you basically never know if you're the one fucking everything up accidentally, are afraid to hurt someone important again, don't know what a real/healthy friendhip is meant to look like due to never experiencing one, and don't have the energy to deal with this shit anymore, it's impossible to make your brain chill the fuck out.

there is a chance everything will go well and nothing will change. there is a smaller chance things will even improve. I can only hope, even if I know hoping for things ends up hurting more.

"what's the worst that can happen" i'm always asked, as if the person asking thinks nothing bad can happen. imagine being very far away from home and your trusted best friend you're there with betrays and hurts you for who knows what stupid reason, and you're stranded there, alone and upset, with no one around you who cares or wants to help or comfort you. you're treated like a burden and have no one to turn to. you're trapped and alone, surrounded by strangers in a big scary city. your whole world and everything you knew is falling apart in your hands as you try desperately to patch it badk together, but your once trusted person is purposely pulling out the seams. your supposed-to-be-happy experience is forever tainted and ruined. you get blamed for it all when you're confused and lost as to what even happened! it takes years to put the pieces together and come to a conclusion about what and why it happened. but that experience left deep scars that affect everything that comes after.

I don't want want that to happen again lmao. I cant make my brain not have intrusive flashbacks when faced with a similar scenario. it's literally how trauma works.

i've heard you can heal from trauma. but is that possible when the trauma wound constantly gets reopen every time it even starts to heal? if the same shit that caused you trauma keeps happening over and over and over and over....things replying in your head end up repeating themelves despire your best efforts to go a different direction....how do you heal? how do you convince your brain to not feel like this and think these things when it feels like reality rather than a worry since these things have happened literally 100% of the time!

that's the problem. you can't heal a flesh wound by rubbing dirt and shit and sharp objects on it all the time. I feel like the only way to heal is to be able to have someone I can actually trust and reply on. someone who proves to me that they won't become another source of trauma. the wond needs a clean and stable environment to heal in.

but i'm broken. i'm annoying. i'm incredibly boring and have no personality. my interests are few and very weird. i'm not likable to most people or for very long and do and say the wrong things all the time. etc etc. *throws pity party or whatever that's actually based on facts probably because no one proved them wrong yet and idk the real reason so i'm simply guessing* so how am I supposed to make a person do this lmao since you can't force people to like you and be a good friend. I also can't force myself to like people so the person needs to be someone *I* like and feel comfortable and connected with as well. hitting two birds with one stone is.....not easy. especially when you're as clumsy and uncoordinated as me.

hopefully my trip goes well. hopefully a miracle happens and we get closer. but I can't rely on it. I can't even think about it. I keep making myself focus on other things and nkt think. but sometimes something reminds me and then this now THREE HOUR long rant happens. 😭✌️

[sneezingfetishftw-fics]

Insufferable (4/7)

Previous chapters: 1 2 3

Next chapters: 5 6 7

Wavs: 1 3

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Velvette tried to stave off the panic by focusing on Vox’s work responsibilities, her fingers typing at the speed of light. Unfortunately, her anxious thoughts were moving just as fast. Had she made a mistake by giving him a fever reducer? What if she’d fried his system and now he was shut down? How long would it last? How could they fix this? Would any medicine work on Vox? Could the antivirus be re-enabled, or was this the end? Should they get a new screen for Vox, would that fix it?

“Velvette, darling,” Val said, “you look like you’re about to give yourself an aneurysm. Slow down!”

“This is all your fault in the first place, you bastard! If you hadn’t been such a selfish, dimwitted, arrogant… GAH!”

“I already said I’m sorry. I can’t change the past.” He withered a little under Velvette’s icy glare. “Look, I bet we can find a new compilation of people embarrassing themselves on social media! Do you want to watch together? I can make some popcorn!” he said with a smile.

“But the TV is broken!”

“Yeah, but Vox’s laptop isn’t.”

Velvette hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. She could use a break after all this.

They watched for a little while until Velvette realized she did still have in person work (you know, the work she had before this whole mess) to attend to. She put the laptop back in the cage. “Don’t break anything while I’m gone. And try not to let Vox break anything either!” Valentino just waved.

***************

Shortly after Velvette had returned, Vox stumbled into the living room again. His screen was so dark Velvette could barely make out his facial features, which meant Val was probably seeing even less. Velvette quickly shoved the laptop and her phone back into the Faraday cage. “Morning Velvette, Val,” he said weakly but enthusiastically.

“It’s 6 o’clock,” Valentino said with a frown.

“WHAT?” he asked, his voice distorting in anger as his claws dug into the table and Velvette and Val shared a look of uneasy Déjà vu. “You mean I missed my interview by 9 hours, 9 FUCKING HOURS, and NOBODY WOKE ME UP??”

“Right, that’s it,” Velvette said, marching up to him. “We’re doing an antivirus scan.”

“What are you talking about? And what about my interview?”

Velvette sighed. “I did the interview in your place, because you’re sick. You have a virus, which is why we need to run the antivirus. And you would know this is the third time I’m telling you, if it weren’t for you’re fucking shit-arse corrupted memory banks!”

“Oh.” Vox’s fans were deafeningly loud in the silence that followed. The Vees began to wonder if Vox had lost his voice again, when finally the silence broke. “Hhhh’TTTZZZZZZCHH! Hhh’hhhh’hhh’hhZZZZZZSSH! Heht’dzzzzzsch! HhhhrrrggggZZZZZCHT! Fucking hell!”

Velvette handed him a handkerchief she’d procured during his latest nap. He stared at it awkwardly. “Velvette, I don’t have a nose. What exactly do you expect me to do with this?”

“It’s to cover… oh, never mind,” she said, taking it back. With Vox’s memory failing, now wasn’t exactly the best time to be trying to teach him new things.

“The antivirus?” Val asked, trying to get the conversation back on track.

“Right,” Velvette nodded, staring at Val in a way that clearly said “I’m not snitching on you yet but don’t count on me not to tell on you later.” She turned back to Vox. “Do you know how we would go about running the antivirus scan?” Vox tried to speak but once again sound was failing him. “Perfect. Just what we needed.”

Thankfully, Vox seemed to be capable of pulling up the interface on his screen without needing to talk, though he did have to restart the process a few times when his screen glitched out from coughing fits. Finally, the scan had begun.

It didn’t get far, though, before Vox’s screen started flickering and his breath started hitching. “No no no no no no no no!!!” Velvette protested. “Not now, please Vox! Just wait a little longer.”

“What’s the big deal?” Valentino asked. “I didn’t know you were into edging,” he said with a smirk.

“Ew, no! If you’d been paying any attention, you’d know what I’m talking about. If coughing restarts a process, I reckon sneezing will do the same. If we can’t keep him from sneezing we’ll never get this scan done.” Valentino placed a finger over the center of Vox’s screen. Velvette stared at him blankly. “What are you… he doesn’t even have a nose! Do you really expect that to work?”

Val shrugged. “I don’t see you coming up with a better idea.”

Velvette frowned, having no rebuttal to that. But against all logic, it seemed to be working. The screen flickers got more spaced out and less intense. Val’s finger was covering up most of the progress bar, but eventually the task was completed. “Okay, you can put that finger away now, Val,” Velvette said.

It was as if a dam had opened. Velvette barely had a chance to see the “virus detected” (yeah, obviously!) message before the screen flickered violently and Vox unleashed a torrent of sneezes unlike anything any of them had witnessed before. “Hhhh’tzzzzsh! Zzzzzcht! Hhhh’dzzzt! Heh’tZZZZZZZCHT! Hah’TTTZZZZZZZZZSHT! HAAAAAH’ZZZZZZZZZZST! Hhhhhhh’ZZZZSHT! ZZZZZSH! ZZZZZZZST! D’ZZZZCHHHZT!” It continued on in this manner for at least ten minutes with barely any time to breathe. Velvette noticed out of the corner of her eye that Valentino appeared to have been trying to count the sneezes, but he seemed to have given up fairly quickly. Eventually, Vox regained his breath. “Fuck my life. I never want to do that again.” Val made a mental note that he now had a powerful tool in his arsenal should he ever need to threaten Vox.

Velvette was focused on the screen which had now returned to the antivirus scan results. “Well, the good news is, it found the virus.”

“I know that face,” Vox said, still sniffling. “How screwed am I?”

“Well - it’s got an estimated time of how long the fix will take.”

“And?” he asked impatiently. Then he coughed so loud he couldn’t hear a thing. “Sorry, what was that?”

“48 hours to 2 weeks.”

Vox gave his head a light slap and a shake. “Ugh, sensors really must be busted on this thing. Because I cannot possibly have heard you right.”

“No, you got it. It’s 48 hours to 2 weeks.”

Vox’s face fell. “How the fuck am I supposed to deal with this for that long?” He started crying and Velvette once again passed him the handkerchief, although this time he seemed to know what to do with it, at least for the eyes anyway.

“Bit of a wide range, isn’t it?” Val asked.

Velvette shrugged. “Probably to account for whether or not the virus, uh… fights back.” All three of them grimaced. That was not a fun possibility to consider.

Vox sighed. “Please just put me out of my misery.” Val nodded solemnly and walked over to his gun collection. “Wait, no, not that! I’m not that desperate yet.”

Val stepped away from the guns. “Ok. But if you change your mind, I’ll be there.”

Vox groaned. “Just start the scan, Velvette. Before I facepalm so hard I break my screen.”

Velvette tapped the start button, and a pop-up appeared. “Warning, some systems may be temporarily offline while resources are devoted to the antiviral treatment.” Velvette looked to Vox for approval, who shrugged.

“Not like I have a choice. Besides, how much worse could it get?” She tapped the button and Vox, for the third time in the past eight hours, collapsed.

[good-realtor-bad-realtor-dynamic]

I'd planned to liveblog the Always Sunny Podcast live show and afterparty but I got too caught up in it. I do have some notes I scrawled on a sheet of paper here and some shitty phone recordings because screenrecording was making my ancient laptop lag like crazy, but I'm quite drunk and very sleepy, so I'll write them up later. If I can be bothered later. Probably not lbr.

I believe the videos are gonna be up for the next 7 days to rewatch as many times as we'd like? (Hey future self go figure that out.)

For now, quick thoughts before my brain shuts down:

Outfits: 9/10. Docking a point for Glenn buttoning up his shirt in the afterparty. Rude. Should've popped that shirt off.

Music, harmonizing and jamming: 100/10 VIBES. Shout-out to Charlie and Glenn singing Christmas tunes together and Charlie's musical improvisations on the piano with Glenn on guitar.

British royalty talk: -3/10. Rob, I do like you, but given my background, I personally do not care to hear about how the king is cool or whatever. Idc if you talk about meeting them, but sucking up to them is dumb and you need friends who aren't posh types like Humphrey (no offence to him, I'm sure he's nice).

Glenn as the grinch, being grumpy as shit, munching on cheese and crackers furiously after drinking a Rob manhattan and just giving 0 fucks about Christmas happiness: 11/10 MOOD!

Best host contest: blasphemy/10. Picking Meg is cheating and I adore Charlie, but no. Why was little Glenn on #3? Poor chap.

Gifts: 10/10 thoughtful <3

Lingerie talk: 8/10. Not long enough. Could be gayer.

RCG improv scenes: A++/10. They just got better as they did more. The stupid key chain sounds had me dying.

Serious conversations in the afterparty about S16 writing, Megan's happy experiences at Sunny vs other shows, doing RCG rewrites and the creative process disagreements between Rob and Charlie while Glenn is mostly quiet and tired or sometimes mediating: 17*/10 friendship. Also, Charlie is right that 4:3 and Standard Definition is The Sunny Look.

Chat, voting website and audience interactions: flop disaster/10. Why didn't they try to set up a normal poll instead of a page on a website that was definitely going to crash?! Anyone under 28 could've told them the chat was going to be impossible to read and full of spam without a proper moderator, but even our Meg is old and doesn't really know this stuff lol.

*arguably 19 because they started working on the home movies in 2003 with the first ones shot in November.

It was a slow start and they were clearly tired from being in the writer's room all day, but after the first half an hour, the boys slowly came back to life and stayed on for an extra 45 minutes, which I appreciated, having paid all that money to watch them.

It was like a 3x duration unedited edition of the podcast with some extra segments and I did have fun, but tbh it didn't have to be a livestream except for the few moments they actually interacted with the chat. The whole point of a livestream is the audience participation and even they seemed disappointed they couldn't hear us or really be able to read the chat?

I don't think the Moment interface is that great either. They could've just gone live on youtube or twitch and hidden the stream after a few days for the same effect and given away the leftover money from superchats and donations. They'd probably raise less money that way, but it would actually take advantage of the format. Fingers crossed their next livestream goes a lot smoother. And hire moderators please!

[lilyblackdraws]

i wrote another chapter about my arknights oc.

Chapter 3

Rita woke up with a sore throat. This wasn’t unusual, but annoying nontheless.

She fetched a bucket and sat down with it to see if there was any sludge she had to rid herself of.

It would be nice if she could just flush it into the sewage system, but she was told to put it into special waste processing. She was given a container to gather it in, but it was easier to throw it up into a bucket first. Sitting around like this reminded her of how she used to do this during a bad hangover. “Maybe I should go drinking again some time,” she thought to herself.Astesia didn’t seem like the type, but Elysium would probably be up for it.

Rita had made a bit of a joke by labeling her container with “TOXIC SLUDGE” in big, bold letters.

She figured it’d be funny to walk around with that.

What was the difference between poison and toxin again...? She forgot.

“Venom is injected, poison is ingested. Toxin... well, not like it matters.

Wouldn’t that allow my substance to qualify for both anyway? Could lace bolts with it.”

Such were the thoughts that went through Rita’s head while she sat idle like this.

Someone knocked on her door.

Rita put the bucket down, reached behind herself to open a window and called out: “I’ll be there in a moment.” before downing a glass of water and wiping her mouth.

That’s when she realized that she hadn’t even gotten dressed yet. Who could it even be at this hour?

She hastily changed into some pants and a shirt and opened the door.

“Well that was quick.” she said when she saw that her visitor was Astesia.

Astesia put her hands up in a worried gesture. “Am I here at a bad time?”

She could smell something bitter coming from Rita’s room. She had only just opened the window, so it hadn’t helped much yet.

Rita wiped her mouth once again with the back of her hand, just to make sure nothing was there.

“No, it’s fine. I was just... sitting around,” she answered with a casual smile.

“Taking it slow in the morning?”

“Isn’t that fine?” Rita didn’t want to talk in the doorway, but also didn’t feel good about inviting Astesia into her room as it was at the moment.

“Hey, why don’t we get some breakfast together? I’ll just need a minute to get dressed a bit better.”

Astesia looked over Rita’s unkempt hair and plumage. “Yes, that sounds nice. I’ll wait here then.”

“Great, I’ll be quick.” Rita turned around before shutting the door behind herself with her leg. Astesia noticed that some of her feathers looked quite ragged, damaged even.

“Okay, let’s go. Sorry for the delay.” Rita came out of her room fifteen minutes later. Astesia had been waiting the whole time and considered asking what was up once or twice.

“If there’s something wrong, you can talk to me, okay Rita?”

“That’s nice of you. I’m all good at the moment, but I’ll keep it in mind,” Rita answered with a forced smile.

After getting something to eat, Astesia suggested that they could go on deck.

“The weather’s really nice today, so why don’t we eat outside? It’ll be quieter there too.”

Rita agreed. When they stepped outside, she noticed that it was still a little chilly. Not all that uncomfortable, but not exactly the kind of weather that would get you excited to sit outside. But then again, Astesia might just be used to different temperatures.

“You know, I’m sure the people at medical can find something for your damaged feathers.”

“You should mind your own business, Astesia.” Rita replies coldly.

Astesia looks away, a bit startled.

“My feathers are fine. The damage is from an old injury, nothing to be done about that.”

Rita glances at Astesia. She returns the gesture.

“I’m sorry, I just thought I could do something to help.”

“I’m sure you did, but it’s still pretty intrusive. It’s fine, nothing to it, just maybe think twice about bringing something like this up in the future.”

“I will. They’re just so pretty and when I saw you from behind, it caught my eye.”

“What’s pretty, my feathers? That murky colour?”

Astesia nods. “The tone works great with your hair and clothes.”

“I make an effort to coordinate it to make the most of it. Can’t see much in it personally. Same with my other feathers, these leafy greens.”

“No, don’t be like that. I often get told that I have really pretty blue feathers, but there’s nothing wrong with earthen tones.”

“You’re tooting your own horn there a bit, aren’t you? But I guess they are nice to look at.”

Just then, someone approached. “Hey there, didn’t expect to see anyone here at this time. What’s going on with you two pretty ladies?”

It was Elysium. “We’re just having breakfast,” Rita answered.

“and some light conversation,” Astesia added.

“Nice, nice.” Elysium sat down next to Rita. “So what were you talking about?”

Astesia put her hands together with a smile, but before she could say anything, Rita intercepted: “Nothing in particular.”

She then stood up. “Well, I’ve got stuff to do unfortunately, so I’ll get going. Have a good one.”

“You’re not leaving cause I’m here now, are you?”

“No, you’re good. I just gotta go.”

“Rita, wait, please.” Astesia held her hand out towards Rita. “Elysium, you’d say she’s pretty, right?”

“Oh is that what we’re doing now? He’d say that to any woman.”

“Now now, I’m not that easy. But yes, sure, quite attractive.”

Rita smirked. “You don’t sound terribly convincing there.” She knew that he hesitated because of her harsh condition. Even though she knows that it’s absolutely reasonable to be repulsed by it, it still stung.

“Oh Elysium, please. Doesn’t she just have really pretty feathers?”

“Enough with the feathers. You two lovebirds can hang out together with your complementary colours.”

Elysium sighs. “Astesia, it’s a bit of a delicate topic for many of us. Even for me.” He gently runs his fingers along his red streak in his hair. “If she doesn’t want to talk about it, you should drop it.”

Astesia lowers her head, somewhat dejected. “Alright.” She falls silent for a moment, clearly looking for the right words to express herself, but then gives it up. “I’m sorry, Rita. I overstepped my bounds. Can you forgive me?”

Rita sighs. “You’re so stiff. Different upbringing I guess. It’s fine, don’t worry about it, forigven and forgotten.”

“I’m so glad.”

“Okay! With that out of the way, how about the three of us hang out here for a while longer? It’s pretty cold, so why don’t we get a little closer?” Elysium spreads his arms with a smile.

“No, seriously, I have stuff I really need to do. I only planned to have breakfast.”

He nods. “Gotcha. Then get going, wouldn’t want to needlessly hold you up.”

Rita gives a brief wave as a goodbye to the two and goes back downstairs.

“You know what’s up with her, don’t you?”

“Ever perceptive, Astesia. Maybe I know, maybe I don’t. Either way, it would be confidential. You’re going to have to get it out of Rita directly. Whatever it may be.”

Back in her room, Rita went back to checking on her condition. Her throat had cleared up by now and everything felt fine.

She had already dumped her sludge into the proper container instead of leaving it in the bucket. There’s no way it would eat through it, especially not this quickly, but she wasn’t going to risk it and also just didn’t want to unnecessarily wear the bucket down. She had forgotten to close the window, so now her room was about as cold as it was outside. At least it got the bitter smell out.

She sat down and thought back to when she’d have to get up early for training and exercises. Outside in the cool morning air. She didn’t mind it, but preferred milder temperatures.

But that then brought her mind to the drills here at Rhodes and she sighed.

“Gotta get this stuff delivered,” she thought to herself and got up. She then smirked at the container she labeled “TOXIC SLUDGE”. Good joke.

“Eh, what are you bringing here?” the logistics operator asked, eyeing her container with caution.

“Stuff for special waste disposal.” Rita took her organizer out of her pocket and retrieved her permit. After looking over it, the logistics operator gave it back to her.

“I see. It’d be better if you came in at a specified time next. It’s fine this time, but I’ll have to hold onto the container for now. I’ll send you a message when you can take it back.”

This had only been third time she’s done this and previously she came in at much earlier hours. Rita wasn’t familiar with the internal proceedings of the department, so she figured it’d be fine whenever.

“Also please don’t needlessly mark the container.”

“I thought it was funny.”

“It kinda is, but for the most part it’s offputting. More importantly though it’s against regulations.”

“Okay. I’ll clean it off.”

“We’ll have that handled. Was there anything else?”

“No, that’s it. I’ll be going then.” The two nodded goodbye to each other and Rita left.

[unluckilyimnot]

Helloo!! Could you possibly write a part 2 to your rindou angst marriage fanfic u wrote? You could write about slowburn,angst,fluff,however you want to continue with it! I just wanna hear more of your thoughts abt it cuz it's been my fave fic these days and i keep reading it every time i need some inspiration 👉👈

Hiiii I can absolutely do that (even if i took forever to do so) I'm really happy to see that you thought that much about it and hope it's not to late haha Thank you sm !

type: slow burn (ig), fluff

Words count: 4.7k || Pt.1 || Pt.3

note: I can’t count the number of mental breakdown I got bc of this. I never ever wrote slow burn and then suddenly I’m doing one with an awful base, great idea Mia. Anyway, here’s my first slow burn (if it can be considered as one), hope it’s not too bad for the time it took.

I would really appreciate feedback back for this one so feel free to comment or send a message, thank you !

Rindou was thinking a lot since the last time you two argued. It wasn't the first time for you to take care of him like this, but neither of you ever speak your heart like this and he has to admit that his mind didn't want to let it go. The way your hand was so gentle towards him, patting his cheek as if he was still a kid. It's been a long time since you did that and, this time, he could remember your touch on his skin without hating it. It's been what, one or two weeks now ? He couldn't understand why he wasn't getting over it yet. It was poisoning his brain. Overthinking the whole situation like he never did before. Was it because he was too angry to face it before ? Or just to try to know you ? This was messing with his mind and he doesn't like it at all. It never was important, you never were, so why now he was thinking about how dirty he did you ? That was pure nonsense. Just like you.

"Rindou are you listening?" Ran's voice rises and Rindou lifts his head. "Yes, I am," answers Rindou but his lost eyes show that, in fact, he wasn't at all. Shaking this whole situation out of his mind for the next few hours. He was worried that this would take too much space when he had to work but at the same time, he couldn't find a way to resolve it. So he'll ignore it til the end of the day or Ran would kill him if he has to call him out one more time.

Ran obviously noticed how his brother's behavior changed since that night but he just couldn't figure out what happened since Rindou doesn't talk to him about it. Which he finds weird in the first place because they usually talk about everything together. He was curious to know what was happening to his brother. As the two of them go on their meeting, someone suddenly comes inside after a firm knock. The two Haitani were sending daggers to them for this audacity but cut it out when they saw a pretty woman enter the room.

Leaving for work this afternoon, you noticed a pile of files on the kitchen's table as you passed by to take something to eat on the way. Seeing your last name on it, you assumed that it was Rindou’s files and that he forgot it this morning. You knew you didn’t have the right to take a look at all, it was confident stuff most of the time, so you simply grabbed it and decided to pass by the Bonten’s building before going to your own after putting some sweets in your bag. Driving to the place, it almost seems like a normal company you said to yourself as you stop in front of it. It must be insane for someone outside of this world you guess. But yes, for people like you, it has always been normal to carry top secret papers and a gun in your bag while playing innocent. Entering the building as if it was yours, you were surprised to see two guys coming to you and asking for your matter. You don't come around a lot but still, you weren't anybody either. But you can't know everyone, right ? So you let it go and smiled at them.

"I'm bringing papers to my husband, he forgot those this morning," you said with a little smile, trying to be nice as you showed them in your hands.

"I've never seen you around with anyone though..." Imply one of the men, making you quirk. Not coming around everyday doesn't mean that you're lying. You don't have to do so just because of your previous last name in fact. You never needed to be a Haitani to be respected. You sigh as they didn't let you pass even after reading the name on the files.

"Don't make me call him, he won't answer anyway," you explain. Rolling your eyes, you push them aside softly to go on anyway. One of them roughly catches your arm and tries to get you out. A fragile sigh leaves your lips, your cool was more than down and you didn't have the time for this bullshit. Being late is one of the things you hated the most in life and being taken for an idiot too. The thought of killing him right away crossed your mind and the gaze you sent to this poor man made shivers go down his spine in terror when he catches your eyes. "Don't touch me," you instructed, not feeling like playing the sweet wife anymore.

"Oh Miss Haitani, it's been a while since the last time you came," says a young lady passing by with a smile. Her voice calms you down immediately and the man lets you go for the sake of his dear life. She was new the last time you came and you guided her through the building because she couldn't find an office. She was such a kind memory to this place you don’t necessarily appreciate that she calms your nerves. At her words, the two men finally let you live and you go on to the elevator to find Rindou.

Clenching your jaw as the door closes, thinking that a simple lady working here has more value than your words drives you mad. You'll talk to him about it, if you can ever see him. Leaning on the wall as you were alone in the cage, you thought that maybe you wouldn't even have to see him today. Your strict expression falls for a second, replaced with a morose one. You hoped you could, you didn't see each other often after all, but you're always happy to speak with him. Even if it's fighting or just a hello, it warms up your heart. He was right, you're stupid to love him, but hope make you live right ? So you'll continue till it kills you. The doors open in front of you, taking you out of your thoughts before you straighten up when people come in. Going down to the right floor, you walked to the room Rindou is usually in with his brother. As you were about to knock when someone stopped you again and this time you didn't take any of it. You knock and open anyway, a blank expression to contain your anger.

Rindou was surprised. He never expected you there and almost never saw you when you were ready to work. You stand out immediately from anyone in this room, black and red outfits flattering your skin. For the first time in his life, he finds you pretty. Your prideful gait and straight face flutter him a bit as you lay his papers on the desk.

"You forgot this," you simply said as you looked him in the eyes, not waiting for anything but a kind of fondness in it. He answered a little thank you, not shutting your gaze and he had to blink a few times before he could. Leaning his gaze on the other men around the table, their looks on you slightly irritate him. Do men usually look at you that way ? He never expected it. Maybe because he never saw you like a woman but mainly like a kid stealing his freedom. You were in fact a beautiful woman, he had to admit it. You nod and turn around to leave and go take care of your own business. Everyone followed you as you stepped back out of the room. Looking at him one last time, you showed the man next to the door.

"And tell your men about me please, the next one who touches me is dead," you add firmly before definitely passing the door without a goodbye. You weren't a kid anymore and Rindou started to realize it only now. Ran looked at his brother's stun reaction as you left, thinking about what must have happened for him to react like this. Looking through the papers, Rindou realized he actually needed it later on for this meeting and should have been more thankful. But that can’t stay on his mind for too long, immediately coming back to work because it needs to be done and resolved by the end of the day or Kokonoi would kill them. He was thankful, but you still weren't that important. A message would be fine.

By the end of the day, as you were still at work, your phone lights up, showing his name on the screen. You opened it, surprised to receive a text from him because it rarely happened during your three years relationship. It was a simple thank you, nothing less or more, but it made you blush like a high-school girl. Making you think that it was really helpful and worth it to stop by before coming here and proceed to go back to work so you could come home soon.

“Say Rindou,” Sanzu doesn’t even have finished his sentence that Rindou wanted to quit it. He doesn’t feel like talking or arguing with him today. His nerves were nothing to play with right now, tiredness showing in his eyes. Last night’s mission was longer than expected and he just wanted to cool down with someone to fill his mind. Forget everything for a while. Glaring at the pink-haired boy, Rindou really wished this would be enough for him to shut up but the only answer he got was a mischievous smile.

“I saw your girl the other day,” the world he used made Rindou hiss. You’re not his girl, you’ve never been and would never be. He despises the fact that Sanzu keeps on calling you like this.

“She’s freaking hot, I don’t understand why you bother to find some girls here and there when you have this at home,” joked the guy while resting on the back of his seat with a smirk.

“Shut up,” spited Rindou, shutting Sanzu’s month only for him to smile, amused.

“If you really don’t want it, at least share-”

“Enough !” screamed Rindou, “stop being fucking horny for a minute and leave her alone.” His strict tone surprised everyone, he never acted like this, maybe because they usually don’t bring you on. It’s been a while since anyone jokes about it, and it was better that way. Knowing that people think of you that way made him angry in a way, he doesn't like the idea. In his mind, you’re still so young so he doesn't understand how anyone could want you or find you attractive. Even if he faced it the other day, his mind still doesn’t want to see you as a grown up woman. But it’s the case, and maybe you’ll change your mind one day because you will understand that him, and this marriage, aren’t worthy to you. He will come back home and you won’t be there - or there will be someone else here with you. Rindou never dared think about it but, this too, makes him kinda angry. He’s just used to you being at his place when he leaves or comes back.

Thinking about it only now, Rindou wonders why he never got to see you in that kind of outfit before. Of course, he leaves before you most of the time and also comes home late, if he ever comes back. He never saw you leaving or coming back from work. You always seem to be at home. He never really cared but that was normal for him to act like this. Even though Rindou was acting weird lately because of that day and now Sanzu’s words.

“If one day she changes her mind, tell her to call me,” jokes Sanzu again, not knowing when to stop.

“She won’t,” answered Rindou quietly, desperate himself.

“You’re so full of yourself,” adds the pink-haired boy, now bored by his answer.

“I’m not, she’s just like this. I want her to change too…” Rindou suddenly seems a bit numb, angriness gone and only his mind even more stuffy. He doesn’t want you to stick him to death like this, he’d love it if you were able to change your mind, but not to go with someone like Sanzu. And as long as you stay at his place. It might seem to be contradictory, but in his unstable life you're the only thing that hasn’t changed in years and maybe he minds it more than he expected. After that, Rindou leaves the place alone without adding anything, leaving some of them annoyed or concerned. Ran doesn’t really get why his brother is now so concerned about you, but he really wanted to talk about it now.

Rindou comes home with someone that night. He never really does that because he knows he can meet you and doesn't want it to happen at all, but in his head it was clear that you’re rarely here on Thursday night. He never sees you anywhere in your shared apartment and so thought it would be okay for once ; he didn’t want to sleep over tonight, too tired for that. It's better to send her home when he’s done than to himself get home later. Everything was calm, nothing could be heard beside their footsteps and that was all he could pray for. As the girl entered the living room, looking around because she never gets to see where he lives even if they saw each other a few times now, she was more than ready to have some fun here. The place is big, tidy and the overall atmosphere is just perfect. She was already loving it.

“I really like your place, you choose all of this ?” she asked, mentioning the decoration and softly letting her hand go on the couch to feel the texture.

“That’s all you care about ?” answer harshly Rindou. Of course it was not him, this whole place is based on your tastes and he knows you have good ones since everyone told him that his place is so well decorated. It made him sick at first, but now he’s just used to it. She wasn’t there to look at the decoration but him and suddenly, he was off. All he could think was you, again. Following her to the living room anyway, being sure that his mind will change again if she shuts up, he notices something unusual. The door or your office was slightly open, a little lamp glowing inside but mostly you leaned on your desk. Your hair was still up in a ponytail and he couldn’t see your face but was sure that you were asleep. Chills drive down his back at the thought of you waking up to him fucking someone else here and his mind quickly get a conclusion. Grabbing the girl’s arm, he pulls her to the door in a rush.

“My wife is here, you have to go.” His tone looks like you didn’t know any of it and that was better that way or else she wouldn't let him alone easily.

“So we’re going somewhere else ?” she asked, sure that he will follow her. “No,” he simply said before pushing her outside.

“Don’t call me,” was the last thing slipping out of his mouth before he closed the door in front of her face. Rindou was confused at his own behavior. He could follow her at her place but it just doesn’t feel right anymore. Leaning his back against the door for a moment, a sigh leaves his lips before heading to your office. As he passed the door to check for real this time, you were certainly sleeping, an open window with a planned meeting for later on the screen. He never comes to your office before but you always seem to get out of there when you greet him when he’s back. Based on all the files that were accumulated here, you probably mainly work from here and that explains why he rarely saw you in the kind of outfit of the last time. Rindou doesn't dare look at your papers, knowing too well that you’ll never look at his, but still lets his gaze go around your desk, observing your workplace. It was like learning things about you and, to his surprise, it wasn't that bad. You look really invested in your work, have a photo of your younger brother on your desk and even a post-it to call your mom regularly. As he looked at all the things you had around your screen, he found one with when he comes home regularly and even important dates of the month, probably so you know when he comes back or not. That was showing that you cared without stepping on his intimacy.

His eyes fell on your sleeping figure, it definitely was bad for your back to sleep like this and he finds himself hoping that it doesn’t happen too often. You weren’t the little girl that wanted to follow him everywhere anymore, too curious about his job even though your dad did the same and teaches you everything you need to know. You learned to stay in your place and were now respected for sure based on your attitude outside this place. Maybe Rindou was wrong. Yet he won’t tell you that. So, before he leaves, he puts your jacket on your bare shoulders so you won’t be cold when you wake up and closes the door behind him to be sure to not wake you up.

“So both Haitani have to go, make sure to find someone to go with you because I don’t want to do it this time,” Koko warns while searching for the next subject of the meeting in his papers. A little chuckle leaves Sanzu’s lips, happy that it's not him but even more ‘cause it’s them. Rindou isn’t a big fan of events like this but if Mikey is asking for them, there must be a reason. Or not, they’re just there and he probably doesn’t want to send Sanzu or he will make a mess. Still fair enough to Rindou to not sigh at the thought. He just has to find someone, but someone was already on his mind. Plus, he understands Koko’s point : last time, they were both awful because they had to go instead of Sanzu and Kakucho and the poor girls had to go through their bad temper, no matter what, the whole night. This time wouldn’t be the same though, and it’s gladly appreciated. Ran likes those, and Rindou never mind coming with his brother when it's already planned like this. Everything must go well as long as no-one is acting like a jerk around them. It rarely happens in that kind of meeting but, there’s always some person for whom it’s the first time and so they can’t behave. Anyway, Rindou was praying not to cross their roads. He has something else to deal with first.

As Rindou was leaving the meeting with his brother when it finally came to an end, the older one offered him a ride home so they could talk about it further. Ran waves at the others while leaving , smiling but finally happy to have some time with his brother. Plus, they were both busy lately and didn’t get to talk to each other a lot, and since he knew something was off, Ran couldn’t wait to be in his car to talk. Walking to where Ran's car was parked, they both sat in silence before driving out of the parking lot. Ran felt like it’s been an eternity since this happened.

“What’s wrong Ran ?” asking Rindou straight away, knowing his brother too well to know that something was on his mind. His eyes were looking through the window, his chin in his hand, waiting for him to talk but he was obviously busy thinking.

“I want to know what’s on your mind lately,” answered the older one, looking at the road. After a short break, Rindou added a little “nothing” that could never convince his brother and he knew it. Ran sighs before shaking his head a little. Why was he always like this ?

“You can talk to me you know, we’ve been together for life,” he assures, looking sideways at him but he wasn’t moving. “You’re just weird lately and I’m worried. Is it because of Sanzu’s joke the other day ?”

Rindou clenches his jaw at the memories. Simply imagining it makes him want to kill him, and that fact shows how much he changes already. Acknowledging you was something that shakes him deep down, and he doesn't want anyone to joke about it anymore.

“Or is it just about her ?” adds Ran carefully after watching his reaction. His intuition was right, that time when you came to their office really did something to him, as if it was the first time he really saw you. Rindou knew it was impossible to hide it from his brother and sigh before leaning on the back of his seat.

“Just her,” he whispers, like it was a crime to say it out loud. Doing that made it real, and it was still hard for him to admit it. That you were on his mind, that he was kinda worried for you now, sometimes. He hopes you had enough sleep after your late meeting, that no one is bothering you anymore and even asks himself if you remember to eat since you work alone most of the time. It feels stupid and ridiculous, he never did that for anyone and he never thought he will for you but there he was, thinking about sending you a message at 2pm to asks if you’ve eat today when he almost never texted you.

“I feel like a child,” started the youngest, covering his eyes. Ran hum in response, encouraging him to go on. “She’s been on my mind a lot, I started to feel bad being like this with her. She always did a lot for me without me realizing it.” He cuts himself to breathe. Acknowledging that he was wrong seems harder than any mission he ever faced and Ran was ready to wait and listen to him like he always did.

“She’s not a kid anymore,” Rindou finally said but those words were cutting deep in his throat. He probably was the only one to not see it yet, too blinded by the view he had of you, of the child who cuts his freedom and who would always be useless to him because you were too young and immature.

“Better late than never,” answered his brother with a bit of sarcasm. No need to say that it wasn’t welcomed by the youngest who sent daggers at him. “I’m kidding,” chuckles Ran, “What are you gonna do now ? Accepting your marriage ? Considering her as your wife for real this time ?”

“I don’t know, I’m still thinking about it. But I stopped seeing other girls and she was the first one that came to my mind when Koko said we have to come with someone,” admit the youngest. A small and prideful smile appears on Ran's lips at his words. Rindou always blamed you for not being mature enough, but with time, he was the immature one in this relationship and he was ready to go on and face it. Finally.

“So you will ask her ?” Ran couldn’t contain his happiness, he always finds you cute in fact, and thinks that you suit Rindou pretty well in the end.

“Don’t be so happy about it,” pouted Rindou but still nods at his brother’s words. Yes, he will, even if he was anticipating your reaction.

Rindou tried to act normal as he came back home but his hands were sweaty. He stressed about it more than he thought. He rarely talked to you, besides arguing, and it feels weird to suddenly ask you to come with him at a big meeting as his date. Maybe he should apologize first. Thinking too hard about it, he doesn’t realize that he was now in front of your office door and, after a deep breath, he takes his courage with both hands and knocks.

The sudden noise makes you flinch. No one ever knocked on your door here and, for a second, you forget how to respond to that. You regain yourself fast and get up with a little “coming” before opening the door. There was Rindou, freshly coming back from work but without that annoyed expression he always has. Questioning yourself, you tilt your head to the side, not knowing if you should be the one speaking first or letting him since he was the one - kinda - asking for you.

“Do you need something ?” Yes, you talk first by reflex in the end, even if it never ends well. But for some reason, Rindou standing oddly calm in front of you made you feel calm too ? It never happened yet, he was always aggressive around you. Agreeing to your words, he was now searching for his words or how to say it and you never thought you'd be blessed enough to see Rindou like this. awkwardness showing in his attitude and looking away with a frown that didn’t seem hard at all. You wanted to chuckle, but kept your mouth shut and instead smiled politely.

“Just tell me, don't be ashamed,” you added sweetly. Rindou sighs, realizing he was probably ridiculous, he just decided to ask right away.

“I have an important meeting in a few weeks and I wanted to know if you could be my date for the night,” he said quickly, and if you weren’t used to your co-worker speaking so fast you probably wouldn’t have understood a single word. But you did and your cheeks grew hot immediately. You were touched by his offer for sure, but at the same time couldn’t believe it. Rindou never wanted you around him, to hear about you and was angry to get here because that means seeing you, why was he asking you this now ? He clearly saw the misunderstanding in your eyes and decided to speak up.

“I was the childish one in the end, but I want to make it up to you. That doesn’t mean that we’ll be a happy couple tomorrow,” he warns you. “But I’m ready to try to know you better…”

Your heart flutters at his words. It felt like you’ve waited all your life to hear those words. Your hand that was left on the door to keep it open falls slowly as your brain processes them and a lot of things come to your mind.

You didn't even think of nodding in agreement but were already retracing your schedules in your head to be sure you were free. Rindou was waiting for your answer, worried to the bone. You didn’t know, but you were so serious that he was sure you’ll smack the door at him soon because it was way too easy to come to you like this. Instead, you signal him to come inside with you so you can check the date and secure it for him.

“You’re okay with it ?” he asked, confused. Sitting at your desk, you looked at him surprised. “Of course I am, you’re asking so why would I say no ?” It was your first wife's duty, and you were more than glad to accept it. Even more since he was the one asking. So with a smile, you show him to come to you once again so you two can check together.

Rindou looked at you in disbelief, you sure were weird. He still doesn’t get you, and he doesn't really know if he will one day. But he will surely try from now on.

It took me some times, I’m sorry. I was, at first, in an exam period, but since I’m positive to covid I use that time to write and rest

[primofate]

Hi there, can I request the boys seeing you got injured or being attacked, whichever is fine ^^

Hey anon! You didn’t specify how injured but I’ll just run with it hahaha :)

Shortfic

Scenario: You got injured Part 1

Part 2 with Zhongli

Part 3 with Xiao

Characters: gn! reader x Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Childe

Warnings: angst, injury, no character death though

Masterlist

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If you’d like to be extra sweet and donate, here’s my kofi link: 

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Diluc

“Master Diluc, if I could just interrupt--” one of the caretakers in the winery walked up to his office and prepared for the assault of words that could be fired towards him, sure enough, Diluc interrupted. “What is it? I’m a little busy right now, make it quick,” he hadn’t turned his face to look at the grim expression weaving in and out through the caretaker. Hadn’t bothered to look up to check if there was anything amiss, but the caretaker continued quickly “It’s Y/N,” the caretaker had only paused for a moment but Diluc had already picked his head up at the mention of your name. It was here that he realises something must have gone wrong, the caretaker’s expression was not a pleasant one. He was up on his feet, eyes widening a fraction at the following words, “They came back to the mansion seconds ago and they’ve been injured past what Adelinde could fix so we called for a doctor—”

In Diluc’s hurry he had stumbled over his chair, it tripping behind him with a thud on the floor but he ignored it and fast runs towards your room. Dear Archons he should NOT have let you go on that commission by yourself. You could hold your own, yes, but things happened and he really should have thought that through first. He was berating himself for it as he swung the door open. “Y/N?!” 

The urgency in his voice tells you that he perhaps had the wrong idea of what was happening, it was really just a gash on your leg, although it was bleeding profusely, the cut must have been deeper than you thought. The maid had already placed a tourniquet to stop and slow the bleeding. You tried not to show it in your face, not wanting to alarm your lover any further, but it. hurt. like. hell. “Diluc, I’m fine, it’s just a gash,” 

The maid that was previously sitting on the chair next to your bed moves away, Diluc replacing her, his eyes didn’t tear away from the wound on your leg, his expression contorted to that of worry and nervousness, before finally turning to your face, reaching a hand out to cradle your cheek. “Stop lying. You’re pale, you’re sweating--” of course he sees through you, he knows the second you get upset, knows every crease on your forehead and every slight furrow of the brow. He had memorized every inch of his beautiful, beautiful treasure. “Your hands are trembling, you’ve lost too much blood, where’s the doctor?!” He grips your hand at the realization that you might actually be in a more dire situation than presented, and just on cue the doctor comes through the door, asking for some time alone with you to do his job. 

Diluc paces outside the door, unable to stay in one place for long. He kept thinking about how frail you looked. How, if you were unlucky, it wouldn’t have just been your leg. He shook his head at the thought. He didn’t know how he was going to let you out of his sight from then on. He knew full well it would annoy you to have him following you around everywhere but.... How could he not after this?

The doctor emerged half an hour later and explained that you just needed a bit of rest and that, with a little healing magic, you didn’t need the stitches at all. “Don’t let them use that leg for a day and they should be fine, it’s nothing life-threatening but they did lose a lot of blood and is going to need time to recuperate. They’re asleep at the moment,” 

Diluc takes note of everything and quietly slips into your room. They must have sedated you in the process and he sighs as he plops down on the chair that was still placed next to your bed. His eyes soften at the sight of you finally relaxed and less in pain, hand reaching out to brush off strands of stray hair that blocked his view of your face. “You’re the only one who can scare me this much,” he mutters under his breath, as if complaining and he swears that he sees a very small and light grin on your face, as if teasing him. He smiles a little, just happy that you’re stabilized and leans in to kiss your forehead, opting to stay by your side till you wake up.

----------

Kaeya

“What do you mean unconscious?”

“J-Just as we said, Captain. They were unconscious when we found them,” Kaeya sighs in slight exasperation. Normally he was a jolly camper but when the knight in front of him is unable to say how injured you are, Kaeya gets a little wordy. “I meant to say why were they unconscious? Were they hurt? Where are they now?”

Kaeya stands. He was in the middle of some Favonius paper work. “They were bleeding profusely from the head,” Kaeya stops as if lightning has struck him and stares pointedly at the knight. “These details should be said early on,” he thought that it had just been something less threatening. Perhaps you had somehow passed out, exhausted, on your bedroom floor. Or perhaps had just rolled from the bed and onto the floor. They said that they found you in the bedroom, and his blood froze when he realizes that someone went in there to attack you.

Kaeya doesn’t bother talking the other knight into giving better reports next time, he’d do that later. He could guess that you were probably taken into the Favonius infirmary. Sure enough, when he walks in there, face scrunched up into what could only be described as worry and anger mingling together, you were awake, head bandaged up and your eyes meet. His heart breaks at how you still smile at him despite the fact that he wasn’t there to protect you. He stands next to the infirmary bed and gingerly touches your cheek, peering into your eyes. “Y/N, what happened?” he asks, eyes scanning the bandages wrapped around you. “Who did this?” and there was that angry and cold undertone in his voice that you rarely heard, as if his cryo vision had taken over his whole being.

“I’m sorry, Kaeya, I-- I can’t quite remember,” You put a hand up to cover half of your eye, your head was still throbbing and in quick realization Kaeya eases up on you and gently pushes you on your back to rest. “It’s fine, sorry, I just--” he cuts his own speech off and takes a deep breath in. Focus on the good. He tells himself. “I’m glad you’re alright, take it easy, I’ll take care of things,” By that he means he might just slaughter whoever even had the guts to break into your house and attack you in the middle of the day. The break-in was reported by townspeople, and Kaeya was sure as hell he’d get every witness to describe that asshole’s face. 

“You’re staying with me for the moment,” he decides quite quickly, and you had no qualms with that whatsoever. Hearing that you had no protest at all, he grins and leans down to capture your lips in a soft kiss, afraid to hurt you. “No complaints? Perhaps this was your grand scheme all along to come live with me,” You can’t help but chuckle at how quick he bounces back. “Maybe, honey. Maybe,”

----------

Albedo

“Ow--” the knife clatters to the floor, as blood starts to pool around your finger. Albedo spins around at the meek sound you make, ignoring the knife on the floor and strides over to you just as you’ve turned on the sink and started running water on the small cut on your finger.

“Let me see,” You turn to him, blinking. His face was blank. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking but he was staring straight at you. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s just a small cut,” but he doesn’t waver and glances at the water running over your finger. “Let me see,” he tries again, this time rather forceful. That got you to obey. Turning the faucet off and awkwardly offering your hand to him.

He receives it and cradles it in his as if it was porcelain, upturning your hand to look at the small cut on your pointer finger. It was tiny. Really nothing compared to wounds that a knight might sustain. Albedo sighs and looks up at you, “Don’t go anywhere,” before stalking off, coming back a few seconds later with a first aid kit. “...Al, it’s alright, it’s not a big deal,” Albedo would only let one person give him a nickname. You. No one else. Frankly he thought the nickname was weird but if it danced on your lips, he didn’t mind it at all.

“Y/N, you’re mistaken if you think I’m going to take this lightly,” he takes out some ointment and a small roll of bandage, starting with the ointment. “Everything and anything that hurts you is a significant thing,” his gaze darkens, as if glowering at that microscopic cut. “Miniscule or massive, it doesn’t make a difference to me,” he starts wrapping your finger, “if it taints your skin, I cannot help but feel--” he doesn’t know the right word, but you do, judging from how his hold on your wrist tightens. 

A soft smile paints your features at how he was such a worry-wart. Sometimes he was so bad at navigating his own feelings but you could decipher them anyway, from his actions. You let him worry over you, and thank him once he’s done. He finishes his work by taking your hand, and pressing it to his lips, his eyes darting up to lock on yours. That made you blush every damn time. His green eyes were just so mesmerizing, and so was his heart.

----------

Childe

Dear mother of the Archons, perhaps whoever was responsible for your injuries had some type of death wish. Everyone should offer prayers for whoever had cut you up. Your arms and legs were littered with small scratches from trying to run away from the attackers, you thought going through the thick forest was a good idea. In essence, it had slowed the thieves down. They had managed to throw a fire bomb at you that severely burned your right hand, and the right side of your abdomen. 

Perhaps it was thanks to adrenaline running through you that you had actually managed to make it to the gates of Liyue, just before the bridge, but you’d crumpled down right then and there. The Millelith guards didn’t recognize you, but the three Fatui agents walking on the bridge did. “Someone had better tell him,” The group of Fatuis scrambled nearer to you, one of them picking you up, but glancing at the other who had just spoken up. “I’m not doing that, you do it,” it was slightly comical, seeing them pass off the duty of who was supposed to report to Childe about it. “You know how he gets when it comes to them, I’m not doing--” then one of them finally gets their bearings together.

“Shut up, get them to the healer first,” The tallest one shoves the one carrying you, urging him to go fast and off he went. Now it was just two Fatui agents looking at each other. Two Fatui agents who decided that they would just face his wrath together. “Sir,” one of them starts as Childe turns around to look at them. He actually had no tasks today and was just about to go off to find you. “About Y/N...” Childe’s eyebrows shoot up, what in the world could these agents have to say about you? “We’ve sent them to the healers, they collapsed at the entrance of Liyue, it... doesn’t look good...”

All hell descends upon Childe’s demeanor and poise. His face darkens, his eyes burning holes through the two agents and his fists closed up on his side. His bow appears and hovers behind him, the only thing that shone through his dark person. “The two of you--” he starts, “are going to find out who did it. I’m expecting a report by nightfall,”

Childe himself shows up at the healers quarters, and was told of your condition. “Their hand is going to scar,” keeps reverberating in his head. Like the sound that he imagines the skulls of those who dared touch you crunching under his feet, over and over again. Childe actually winces when he sees you. Small bandages on your arms and legs from the scratches, your right hand wrapped up adequately and, he couldn’t see it now, but he was sure your abdomen was wrapped too.

You cracked an eye open, feeling another presence in the room. Childe immediately appears next to you, leaning over the bed and watching your expression. “...It hurts, doesn’t it?” he asks, tracing over your bandaged hand. You remained quiet for a moment before nodding your head slowly. Just remembering it caused a blinding pain in your mind’s eye. You’d been given drugs to ease the pain now, but there were still traces of it lingering on your skin. “How dare they,” both your eyes snapped open at Childe’s nearly contorted voice, shadowed and overpowered by rage. 

You pick up your good hand and touch his arm with the tips of your fingers. You didn’t like it when he got like this. “Childe, it’s alright,” far from it, but it was the only reassurance you could offer. He catches your hand and brings it up to his face, pressing your hand to his cheek as if it was a lifeline. “It’s not. It’s not,” he repeats to himself, his anger also stemming from the fact that he wasn’t there to protect you. “They’ll regret even laying eyes on you,” You knew he wanted to go now, knew that he wanted to get to the bottom of it, but you yet again pull your hand away to grasp at his shirt, the fabric scrunching up under your hold. “...But stay with me for tonight? Please?” 

That got him. He would never say no. His form relaxes and he leans in to kiss your lips, gentle yet with a hidden hunger in them. “Of course,” he simply says, as if his previous agenda forgotten.

But he would never forget. He would never forget for as long as he could see that scar. 

Tomorrow, he would decimate each and every one of them.

[yoongifis]

💌 dream girl (4) | myg

; pairing: idol!yoongi x femaledancer!reader

; genre: smut, fluff, f2l (?), enemies to lovers (?), slow burn, humor, crack

; warnings: pov switching, usage of mature words, blowjobs, handjobs, jealousy, *italics (in the beginning) means character is dreaming!*

; rating: mature audience!!

a/n: hi hi guyysss! a new update is here and we got some jealous yoongi this time!! enjoy!! :D<3

-

God this trip to get breakfast was long.

He felt like he'd been in this car for hours…where the hell did we decide to eat at?! It’s hot, he’s sweaty and tired—when the fuck were you guys going to get there?

“Pit stop, everyone! Whoever needs to go use the restroom, go ahead! I’ll be putting in some gas,” the manager yells out as the car slows down and parks at a gas station. He hops out of the car, getting ready to pump some gas.

“Finally! I have really got to go guys!” Jimin yells out, gently shoving Taehyung out of his way to get out of the car first. Taehyung and Hoseok follow Jimin, leaving y/n and Yoongi alone in the car.

It’s painfully silent. The type of silence that you immediately want to break. Maybe it’s all because of what happened yesterday—so could it be him that’s making the air around you guys so awkward? Yoongi clears his throat before he’s about to speak up.

“You didn’t need to go?” He mumbles, looking out the window to avoid looking at you.

“Nope,” you say, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word.

He nods his head, still choosing not to look over at her.

…There it goes again.

Absolute, awkward silence.

“How come you're not facing me when you talk to me, Yoongi? Are you ignoring me?”

He could feel you placing your hand on his thigh, thumb rubbing small circles on it. He immediately turns to look, attention going to where your hand was, then to your face. Yoongi shakes his head at you.

“No,” is all he says, turning his head back to face the window, the same view as before.

You pout, upset at how Yoongi was being towards you.

“Did I do something to make you mad? I’m really sorry if I did—I can make it up to you.”

He could feel your hand getting a little too high on his thigh. It was then he felt your small hands palming his crotch, causing him to whip his head back at you.

“Y/n, wait— they’re going to be back soon.”

You whine in a teasing tone, “but being caught never stopped you before.”

Before?! He can’t even remember a time where he did something like this in public!

You ignore his protests, quick to unbuckle his jeans and take his somewhat long, girthy cock out of his pants. It springs up against his stomach, already hard, causing a little giggle to come out of you.

“Y/n, really— you didn’t make me mad or anything. And there’s no need for you to prove that you’re actually sorry.”

You leaned over to him, taking your hand to wrap around the base of his cock. You hum to yourself, noticing your fingers not being able to touch each other when they’re wrapped around his cock.

“I would stop,” you put your face closer to his cock, blowing cold air onto his tip teasingly, just to pull away and face him again, “but your body is telling me otherwise, Yoongi. Why don’t we play around a little?”

His heart is beating like crazy, you could probably hear it with how close you are. Yoongi has never seen you be this dominant before—even in his dreams you never acted this way towards him…And not going to lie it kind of turned him on.

You’re already sliding your hand up and down. Placing your whole hand on the tip and spreading the little precum, that’s leaking out from his it, down his shaft, watching your hand become messy with his slick.

He grabs a hold of your wrist, stopping your movements.

“Y/n, please. The rest is going to be coming back anytime soon.”

You move your attention back at him. He looks at you with pleading eyes, eyebrows furrowed in lust, and teeth clenched to stop himself from groaning. Yoongi only wants this to end just because of others possibly running into you guys doing this, but why does the fact that this situation sort of excites him? Being caught and all while doing such dirty things?

Never in his life did he think that he was into this type of stuff, but, to be honest, maybe it’s just the effect that you have on him.

You slowly smile at him. It was one of those smiles that looked like you were up to something—which you definitely were. You allow him to hold you back from moving your hand any more. You decide to lower your head closer to his crotch, attaching your mouth to the mushroom-like tip of his cock. You’re sucking on it like a lollipop, swirling your tongue around it as you did so. Yoongi grunts in pleasure, but also feeling torn apart on whether or not he should try to pull you off of him or let you keep going.

You remove the hand that was wrapped around his cock, his hand following yours, placing it on his thigh. You sink your head slowly down his cock, taking it inch by inch.

He swears underneath his breath, realizing that he's already losing this battle against you. He throws his head back, but immediately brings it back up so that he can watch you with eager eyes. God, does he enjoy watching you.

You push yourself further to fully take in his cock whole, having it nearly touch the back of your tight throat, which causes you to gag. You pull back and stuff your mouth again with his cock, swallowing and humming at points to intensify the sensations. The loud noises you make when your mouth is filled with him are embarrassing, but god he loved the sound of all of it. A string of your saliva that’s connecting from your open mouth to his pink tip appears when you pull away to look back at him.

Fuck, he could feel himself hardening more just by that sight. You wrap your fingers around his wet cock again, easily sliding your hand up and down at a good enough pace.

“Don’t I deserve your cum, Yoongi?” You’re looking at him innocently, bottom lip slightly sticking out as you pout.

He’s gritting his teeth, hips starting to jerk upwards as you start to slow your movements. You giggle at him when you notice him doing it.

“Ah, Yoongi~,” you say in a sweet voice, “I guess I’ll work a little harder.”

You’re already lowering your head down to his crotch again, stopping your hand movements. You take this time to lick along the bulging vein underneath his cock, and then bring your tongue to press it against the slit of his cock. A free hand makes its way down to play with his balls, giving the attention that it also deserves. Yoongi immediately hisses, mumbling a couple swear words under his breath again.

“Y/n,” he groans, face turning slightly red from the heat he’s feeling. He’s had enough of it. He wanted to skip breakfast, take you back to his own apartment. He wanted you all to himself right now. You could be his breakfast instead.

You sat back up straight again, the side of your body against the car seat while you face Yoongi. He keeps his eyes on you, despite you still sliding your hand up and down his cock. You lean over to him and give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Want your lips on mine,” he mumbles.

You laugh, patting him on the cheek with your free hand.

“I’ll give you one if you wake up, Yoongi.”

Wake up? What?

“Yoongi, you have to wake up.”

‘You’ve got to be kidding me’ is all he thinks.

His dick has already gone limp after knowing this whole fucking thing was a dream. Soon, he found himself regaining consciousness of reality.

“Yoongi,” you’re gently hitting his cheek, “we’re here already let’s go.”

He lifts his head from the window, rubbing the skin of his forehead that was against the glass, then proceeds to rub his eyes. He stretches his arms, inhaling deeply, only to capture the scent of you—the stupid strawberries.

Ah, yes, you. The one he was just dreaming about. He should’ve known that he was dreaming because not once did he ever catch your scent. That scent that he can never seem to get enough of.

He glances over at you with sleepy eyes. You’re watching him carefully, both of your eyes locked.

“You okay, Yoongi?”

“Mm,” he nods his head at you, keeping eye contact, eyes slightly squinting.

He didn’t know what to feel at this moment. Should he be freaking out that he just had another dirty dream about you and is waking up to you? Should he be mad that he was woken up from that dream? Should he be annoyed to see your face, the one person he seems to not really like, when he first woke up? Or should he be happy that he was finally awakened from those dreams that he’s sorta (not really) hoping to go away…?

“Where’s the rest of the boys?” He blurts out, eyes moving away from yours to scan the inside of the car. It felt just like the dream to him.

It was only you and him in the car.

…In the back of the car.

…In close proximity to each other.

…and once again by yourselves….

Before you could answer he interrupts you quickly, “Am I still dreaming?”

You give him a puzzled look, whatever he just said not clicking in your mind.

“No? I think you’re not?” You bring your hand up to his forehead, trying to see if he’s caught something.

“Yoongi are you alright? Did you get enough sleep?”

The touch of your hand causes him to instantly react, face turning a shade of pink as he turns warm. He grips onto your wrist, pulling your hand down and away from him. He brings his head low, not wanting you to see the effect you have on him.

“I’m fine,” he mumbles, “let’s get going already.”

You lift your hands up in defeat, confused at his quick change of mood, scooting over so that you guys could get out of the car.

-

Breakfast was okay.

You and Yoongi didn’t talk much to each other, which is kind of expected. The table was loud, though, and that was all because of the three other boys that came along. It especially got loud when the waiter was slightly flirting with you—in a friendly way. The three boys yelling out “oooh’s” and “ahh’s” whenever the waiter leaves their table after doing such things. You didn’t think much of it, as it really didn’t bother you. He was being a little flirtatious for fun, which was really harmless.

Yoongi, on the other hand, seemed tired of it. Annoyed by how loud you guys would all get. Annoyed at the way the waiter took up so much of your guys’ time. Annoyed by him flirting with you…It was all just annoying. No one really paid attention to him, though, as you guys all knew that’s just the way Yoongi generally is.

The both of you weren’t necessarily expecting for you guys to be immediately buddy-buddy after this get together. Honestly, Yoongi couldn’t really see what Seokjin was picturing when he gave him this idea. It just was another day where he’s being dragged around to places. And it seems like the next destination would be the movie theaters.

“Do I really have to go?” Yoongi’s slowing his pace as you five walk towards the entrance.

“Hyung, didn’t you want to watch this movie?!” Taehyung laughs.

Yoongi grumbles under his breath, “not with you guys!”

“Ah, hyung, no need to hide the fact that you like romance movies. They melt your icy heart away, don’t they?” Jimin jokes, receiving a little slap to his arm by a laughing Hoseok.

You’re giggling to yourself, taking a glance over at Yoongi, hands in his pockets trying to kick around little pebbles. As if he could sense you, he looks up, your eyes meeting each other for a split second before he brings his head low again. Yoongi thought that it was stupid that you were able to make his stomach feel a way just by looking at him.

“You guys can buy the snacks, I’ll get the tickets,” you say as you turn your head away from Yoongi.

They all agree, leaving you to line up at the ticket booth and them to walk over to the other side of the theater. Yoongi, however, decided to read the posters of the movies being shown which were near the ticket booth as well.

“Well hello hello~,” the younger man behind the glass lowly chuckles, “now what can I do for this pretty girl today?”

You scoff at his words with a forced smile. Now, this sort of flirting felt definitely different from the guy from earlier.

“Could I get 5 tickets to this movie?” You ask, pointing at the poster of the film, which was conveniently right next to the ticket booth.

“Only if I can take you out afterwards,” he prompts up his elbows onto the table in front of him, head resting on his fists as he looks at you.

You laugh uncomfortably, “Sorry, but uh—I’m really not interested.”

“Why not? C’mon, I can show you a good time.”

You’re fiddling with your fingers, unsure what to do until you feel someone behind you. An arm slithering behind your back, hand gently gripping the curve of your waist.

“Everything okay here?”

Your eyes slightly widen in shock. It was Yoongi, voice low and a bit gravelly. It was very unexpected of him to be holding you so close to his side.

“Ah, so is this why you aren’t interested? Because of this guy?”

You were about to speak up but Yoongi was surprisingly quick to cut you off.

“C’mon man, she said she’s not interested. Just give us the tickets and we’ll be on our way.”

The man scoffs, printing out the tickets and slowly sliding them underneath the open area of the glass.

“Maybe next time, doll,” he smirks at you, “second door on your left.”

Before you can reach it, Yoongi is already swiftly grabbing the tickets out of the man’s hand, his hold on you already released.

“Not a chance,” Yoongi says, grabbing your hand to walk away.

“Doll, let me know when you get sick of him,” the man raises his voice through the little speaker of his.

Yoongi shakes his head.

“Won’t happen,” he says loud enough for the other guy to hear, dragging you over to the other side where the other boys were waiting.

This whole situation completely caught you off guard. I mean, you’re literally holding hands right now?! And why the hell is he so mad?

It was quiet as you guys walked away, and a little awkward as well.

“Yoongi…thank you for the save but you don’t have to keep holding my hand, you know?” You break the silence as you guys were walking, you being the one walking behind him.

He looks back at you but quickly brings his attention to his front.

“We gotta keep it up to make it look real.”

“Ah,” is all you say, nodding your head.

Who would have thought you’d actually be holding hands with Yoongi—in a non-romantic way, of course. How in the world would he ever like you in that sort of way anyways?

“We should hold hands more often, it makes us quiet,” you jokingly say, knowing that saying this would annoy him.

He stops in his tracks, looking at you like you’re crazy. You stop walking as well and smile innocently at him. You turn your head away and continue walking, making him walk behind you this time with your hand still in his.

“Very funny, y/n, but I have no plans of ever doing this again with you. I was just trying to help—hey,” Yoongi stops talking after running into you, who just suddenly stopped.

Just to make things a little worse, Jimin was standing right in front of you guys. Mouth open, eyes wide in shock. He’s clutching onto his popcorn that’s in his arms.

“Wha—what the fuck,” he points over to your guys hands, “hands?!”

You both look down at your hands and immediately let go. Yoongi scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. His head hangs low, avoiding either of their gazes and he can feel his face getting hotter.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” Yoongi mumbles, “I’ll meet you guys in there.”

It’s, once again, quiet as Yoongi walks away. You and Jimin are standing there, not knowing what to say.

“Jimin, it’s really not what you think.”

“You didn’t even bother to tell me you guys were dating?!” Jimin exclaims in a semi-joking tone. Of course this is the first thing he would say. The boy has been all over you and Yoongi for some reason.

“What? No—we’re not dating! The guy at the ticket booth was being really pushy so Yoongi came by to get him to stop.”

“So he stopped him by pretending to be your boyfriend?”

“Pretty much.”

Jimin is looking at you as if you’re talking nonsense, trying to comprehend what the hell was going on.

“I have never seen Yoongi act like that publicly before. You sure you didn’t initiate this whole thing?”

Jimin was absolutely right. Yoongi is definitely not the type of guy to do these things out in public. So, why now?

“Jimin, you really think I would want to drag him into that situation in the first place?”

“I dunno,” Jimin hums, “you guys looked cute together, though.”

You roll your eyes at him with a smile on your face, grabbing his arm so that you guys can get going.

“Shut up,” you mumble.

-

God he felt so embarrassed.

Whatever he did before your guys’ day got cut short, due to you having a class to teach later in the day, was so fucking embarrassing.

He doesn’t understand himself anymore and it’s annoying him.

What in his damn mind caused him to suddenly react like that in front of you and some stranger?!

He brings his hands up to his face, basically face palming himself. He lays back in his swivel chair, groaning out in embarrassment. He couldn’t even work on his mixtape, the thoughts from before fill his mind.

Since when has he become some idiot who does stupid things for a girl? He hasn’t even done anything like that for his band mates or close friends of his. It even came to the point where he can only think of her when he smells or tastes anything strawberry. He’s even got a damn stash of the little strawberry-flavoured candies that you’d usually give him hidden in his drawer.

‘Fuck!’ He mumbles, removing his hands from his face and throwing his arms on his sides.

Maybe he’s confusing his feelings?

‘Yeah, that could be right,’ he internally says.

It could be that he only likes the thought of you being with him in real life since he’s already dreamt of her so much. Like he’s said before, he doesn’t even know you too well, so how could he even develop feelings? They can’t just magically appear, can’t they?

Yoongi sighs, scooting himself closer to his desk so that he can go back to checking up on his songs that he’ll be putting out for his first mixtape. Perhaps ignoring you and putting his energy into something else for now is the best option. He was good at that before, so why can’t he succeed in doing that now? He has a mixtape that he’ll be releasing soon, which means he shouldn’t be thinking of you at all. Right now it is all about work.

He scoffs, thinking about how dramatic him and his thoughts were just a second ago. No one is and has ever distracted him from doing his work. And Yoongi is going to make sure that not even you could ever do that.

Just when his mind was starting to clear up, he hears a knock on his door. His eyes immediately looked for the time on his screen—it was already a little past 9 pm. Yoongi shrugs, combing his slightly overgrown hair back with his fingers, hoping that he’s just hearing things. He relaxes in his chair again, just only hear a female voice saying his name. And it’s a familiar voice that he’s heard plenty of times.

It can’t be…but why?

Yoongi jumps out of his seat, rushing over to his door to open it.

And there you are, right in front of his eyes. A view that he wouldn’t mind seeing everyday…despite him just saying that he wanted to distance himself from you and avoid any distractions. But why can’t he find it in himself to shut the door in your face? Yoongi stares at you, and you do the same but with a confused look and a slightly lifted eyebrow.

“Jimin said you haven’t eaten since we hung out earlier, so he wanted me to drop by some food for you to eat since I’d be passing by from my studio.”

You extend your arm, holding out the take out food in the plastic bag, waiting for him to take it away from you. He doesn’t budge, still staring at you in complete silence.

“You should eat, you know? It’s not good to skip meals, Yoongi.”

You watch him bring his hand up to his other arm, pinching the skin on his forearm.

Not a dream.

You take your free hand and grab his wrist, pulling his hand away to stop his actions.

“Yoongi, stop that—what the heck,” you push yourself into his studio, pulling him along with you.

He shakes his head, bringing himself back from zoning out. He then clears his throat, before speaking up.

“Of course, y/n, you can definitely come right in,” he sarcastically says.

You bring him to his swivel chair, turning around to face him and roll your eyes at him with a little laugh. You take the hand that’s holding him and bring it to his chest, slightly pushing him so that he could take a seat in the chair behind him. You move some of the papers that were scattered on Yoongi’s desk, ignoring his protests. Taking out the small boxes of food in the plastic bag, you set them out on the table for him.

“There,” you moved out of his way and onto the side so that he could scoot in his chair, “go on and eat.”

Instead of digging in right away he watches you make your way to the couch, throwing yourself on there. Yoongi’s zoning out again, and he doesn't know why. I guess he just really can’t help it. The look of you relaxing on the couch while he’s sitting over here where he’s supposed to be working makes him kind of happy inside. Maybe having someone around him while he works wouldn’t be too bad?

You turn your head in his way to check up on him, your eyes meeting his. You tilt your head, confused.

“You okay, Yoongi? You’re not eating!”

It takes him a few seconds before nodding his head, slowly bringing himself back.

“C’mere and eat with me,” he mumbles, “there’s enough food for the two of us and I know you’re probably hungry and tired from your class.”

He’s scratching the back of his neck again, just like how he did earlier. A smile slowly appears on your face, realizing how embarrassed Yoongi is to be asking you this out of nowhere. You shift around the couch, getting back up to walk to Yoongi.

“Wow, what a surprise. The first time you’ve ever been this nice to me,” you say teasingly. You watch him stutter a bit, trying to figure out a better, snappy reply but immediately closing his mouth after his mind goes blank. You laugh at him, who’s sinking in his chair due to embarrassment and defeat.

It was really cute to witness.

-

Not even an hour ago you were just arguing with Yoongi on whether or not you’re falling asleep on his couch after you guys shared some food. He was right, though, you were falling asleep on him while he was going through his mixtape that he told you about.

You kept denying that you were sleepy, eyes closed and words jumbled together. Yoongi would keep repeating his words of “y/n, you’re falling asleep”, which would get you all mad, bottom lip sticking out and all—god he thought it was cute. He enjoyed every second of the bickering.

Now he’s stuck here with you sleeping on his couch, unsure on whether he should be waking you up so that you can rest at your own home or letting you get some rest and staying with you till you wake up. Yoongi turns in his swivel chair to look at you, curled up on your side and facing him. He hums to himself, admiring how pretty you look when you’re sleeping.

He gets up, walking over so that he can crouch right next to you. Yoongi brings his hand up to your face and gently plays with a strand of your hair that’s covering your face, twirling it around his index finger. He pushes that strand of hair behind your ear to keep it from covering your face. He takes his time to study your features—counting the little moles on your face or whether that little slight blush on your face was makeup or not (which didn’t seem to be, since you didn’t appear to be wearing make up). He could even smell your strawberry shampoo or lotion or whatever that you use. It smells good—a scent he wouldn’t mind lingering around him.

God, he felt kinda stupid and weird for doing this and thinking this way about you. I mean, he’s always kind of, sort of hated you for some reason…or no good reason. And now he’s here, heart fluttering and all, with possible feelings for you? You, he assumes, would probably not have any sort of interest in him. With the way he kept treating you in the beginning? He was sure that you would probably laugh in his face if he told you that he had developed some sort of interest in her.

You mumble incoherent words in your sleep, then letting out a big sigh afterwards.

Maybe his thoughts were too loud because you’re slowly starting to wake up. He watches as you scrunch your face, bringing the back of your hand up to rub one of your eyes. You bring that hand back to your chest, where it originally was. There, he could see you trying to open an eye, squinting at him.

“Yoongi?” You sleepily mumble, eyes trying to stay open.

He clears his throat, embarrassed that he forgot to move away.

“Another dream, huh?” You cut him off before he could speak.

You bring up your hands to cover your face from him, which he gets a little upset from.

“Ah, you’re too close again, Yoongi~,” you whined, curling up again.

He’s taken aback by your words, completely shocked about what you said.

Have you been having dreams about him too?

-

prev. next.

[fallinforgyu]

do you think you could try do a yeonjun nsfw alphabet? i would love to see it!

yeonjun nsfw alphabet! <3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

aftercare with yeonjun mostly consists of praise, such as him telling you how well you did for him, how proud he is of you, how good you made him feel. i think yeonjun is very sweet after sex <3

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

hmmm. i don't think yeonjun has a favorite body part on himself! he is very adamant about self love, so i think he'd love himself as a whole. and i don't think he'd care too much about body parts on his partners, either! i think he's attracted to the energy someone has rather than their physical appearance.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

would like to cum on your face. pulls you off during blowjobs right as he's about to cum so that he can watch how you flinch when his cum hits your face <3

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

i literally think that him and soobin have fucked

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

very experienced with both men and women. knows exactly what he's doing. can make you cum faster than you probably ever have.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

i honestly don't think he has one. i think he's the type to switch positions multiple times during sex to figure out which one makes you scream the loudest

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

not super goofy. might chuckle every once in a while, but that's about it. sex with yeonjun is sexy. you're gonna be in too much pleasure to even think about laughing

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

probably clean shaven

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

can be very intimate! even if he's not in a relationship with the person he's having sex with, i think he'd take on a sort of nurturing role. calls you baby and always makes sure you're feeling good <3

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

doesn't need to masturbate by himself that often, but i think he'd love mutual masturbation. watching his baby get themself off would make him go crazy !!

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

CORRUPTION. KINK. i think yeonjun has one of the biggest corruption kinks probably ever. like i said, i think he's incredibly experienced. and i think he'd love an inexperienced significant other <3

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

i think yeonjun would love to fuck his partners in their bed. like i said, i think he has a corruption kink, so he'd go crazy if you had plushies on your bed or something. fucking you in your cute little room would make his dick throb <3

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

innocence. i feel like i'm repeating myself.

and cute little outfits!! skirts and lace and frills.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

why am i coming up empty 😭 i feel like yeonjun would do just about anything that was consensual!

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

yeonjun. is. the. king. of. oral. i think giving oral is probably yeonjun's favorite thing, sexually. he can eat pussy like a pro and he can suck dick like a pro and his lips would look so pretty while he does it <3

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

tends to be pretty slow and sensual!! i think he has a sex playlist and would fuck you to the slow r&b beats <3

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

wouldn't mind them, but they're not his go-to! i think yeonjun's sex drive is pretty high, but i also think he has a lot of self control. he wouldn't need quickies too often because he would rather just wait until he can fuck you for hours.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

always down to experiment! he's already tried so much, why not try some more 🤷‍♀️

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

really good stamina!! can last a long time and can go multiple rounds

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

owns lots of toys. honestly probably at least one of every toy you could imagine. uses them on partners and on himself! <3

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

is definitely a tease. would like to work you up in public just to see how flustered he can make you <3

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

i think yeonjun is a moaner and i think his moans are really pretty 🥺

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

i think he's a dom leaning switch!! and when he's subbing he wants to be treated like a big bitchy baby <3

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

i think yeonjun is smaller than average. BUT he makes up for it because he knows exactly how to use his size and he's also amazing with his fingers and mouth

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

pretty high, but like i said, he has great self-control!

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

not super quick!! he definitely wouldn't fall asleep before you were completely taken care of. and i think he'd like to cuddle and talk for a little bit after sex <3

[dreamcatcherrs]

Hey! I just had a random idea I think would work good; a first date preference seems really cool :) (I hope you haven't done this already and I've just missed it) I love your writing <3

+ it seems very very cool indeed :)) hope you like it! <3

++ if you squint, a couple of nsfw references

first dates; mcyt x reader

dream:

restaurant

when it’s your first date, he won't go all out with a very fancy place

but generally likes spoiling you

a lot

but he’ll save that for later

as long as you feel comfortable, he’s happy

maybe you’d go to his place afterwards👀

to play video games of course🙄

he’s not shy at all on your frst date

and is pretty confident in himself that the date’s gonna go great

smooth pick-up lines

maybe a couple of touches here and there

compliments you the whole night

and really just wants a laugh with you

overall, he’s great at first dates

georgenotfound:

ice skating, his place

he likes for a first date to be pretty simple

just chilling

enjoying each other’s company like you usually would

but with some romantic undertones of course ;)

so going to an ice rink or hanging out at his place;

it would be perfect

I feel like george is definitely more nervous on a first date

just because the whole “first date” concept is very intimidating in his head

even though it isn't a lot different from when you hang out usually

… it’s just with a bit more feelings involved

he’d probably ask dream for advice before going on the date with you

he eases up once he gets comfortable with your presence

realising that it’s just you and he can always be comfortable with you :)

cute first date

sapnap:

concert

nick would definitely want to go to a concert with you

I’m sure anyone can vibe with his music taste

and even then, I don't think he cares which concert you go to

the experience is what matters to him

he’d slip in some pickup-lines every now and then

but his cheeks would be so red after every line he spoke

the whole night he just wants to kiss you

but resists, just because he is a little scared of rejection

puts his jacket around your shoulders when it gets colder

and maybe wraps an arm around your waist

as you just vibe to the songs

would kiss you when he walked you home if the date was good

and then text you the second he left

very nice first date

badboyhalo:

park

would bring rat along :D

you’d find a bench or similar to rest by after walking around for a while

and just sit there together

and eat some fresh foods you’d made before going there

and just chat for hours on end

playing around with rat every now and then

and also trying out the swing set nearby

where you’d push each other

you wouldn't have noticed how much time had passed before you both realised it was super dark

it’s a really comfortable and fun date

cause he’s just so easy to talk to

he’d definitely go for some hand-holding

and aim for a little peck on the cheek

technoblade:

escape room

this would literally be the perfect opportunity to get to know each other

and to see if you were worthy of the blood god

you’d help each other find the clues

he’d definitely tease you if he managed to find the key before you did

but then would gently pat your head

cause he couldn’t deny how cute you looked when you were all pouty

a great date

with lots and lots of fun

he’s very nervous to start off with

but manages to hide it behind his monotone voice

though he likes teasing you, he’s also very sweet

sometimes let’s you find the clues “first” even though he’d already spotted them

just to see the smile on your face

wilbur soot:

museum, café

of course wilbur would take you to one of these places

or even both

the museum first, then the café

why not get a learning experience out of the date?

and then get to know each other afterwards

on a more romantic level than usual

he would be really smooth with his movements

even if he was nervous

sneakily puts a hand on your waist

or goes to grab your hand

with no hesitation or shakiness

he’d sooo be the type to say “you’ve got something right here” pointing to your lip

and when you’d searched for the whipped cream on your lip to no avail, he’d lean over and wipe the non-existing cream away

very slowly

and then have a smirk on his face when he pulled away again

honestly, a big tease even for a first date

corpse husband:

dinner and movie

pretty classy, but very nice

he’d want a first date to not be too much

but still be enough to impress

he’d be pretty anxious of what you thought of him tbh

but those were mostly just the nerves talking

would spend a long time putting effort into making the dinner

after asking you what your favourite dish was

you’d eat it together, a candle lit in the middle of the table with some wine (all on my white tee)

and you’d just start up a conversation very naturally

getting to know each other on another level

and when you’d get to watching the movie, he’d definitely attempt to get closer to you

like by throwing an arm around your shoulders

pulling you closer to him

maybe a hand on your thigh

and a small make-out session

a very successful date to say the least

skeppy:

theme park

would want to do something really fun for a first date

so I feel like a theme park would be perfect for that

like, you’d just spend the whole say together

having the time of your life in the craziest rides

or the more chill ones

whatever you like

and in between you’d just take a break

and buy some waffles or churros to eat together

zak is veeery talkative

like, there would not be any worry about awkward silences

cause he would always have something to talk about with you

as for affection

he would probably go for holding your hand

and that’s probably his farthest goal for the day

he likes taking things slow

and just having a fun time with you

karl jacobs:

arcade

like skeppy, he would also wanna go someplace fun

yet not as crazy you know?

like, just hanging out and playing a range of different games with you

you bet he’d just be like “oh, I just wanna get this one prize.”

and when he finally won it, he’d hand it over to you

because he’d planned to give it to you from the start :]

he’s mostly just himself on your first date

giggly, cute, funny

he’s a little more nervous around you than ususal

but that's only natural

would leave a lot of affection on you

like, a supporting hand on your back when you're trying to win at a game

or hugging you tightly whenever either of you won

really just finds any excuse to give you affection

maybe you’ll end off the day with a little smooch😙

or spending the rest of the night playing video games at his or your place

fundy:

sight-seeing

he’d take you to so many buildings, statues, viewpoints etc.

he wants to explore the city with you

even if you both know it very well already

he’d want the memories of the sights to be with you

you’d take cute pre-couple photos by the sights

and grab some delicious lunch while sat right by one of the nicest sights

he’d be subtle with showing affection

like grabbing your hand when you’re about to go the wrong way

and then not let go of it for a while

or he’d let you borrow his sunglasses

to block out the sun in your face

he wouldn't lay heavy on showing affection on the first date

he’ll leave that for the second one ;)

quackity:

cooking together

chaotic but cute combo

I feel like he would really want to impress you

yet still be able to make you laugh

and this is just the perfect way to do just that

he’s surprisingly good at cooking when he tries

and remains his usual quackity alex funny self

he’d show you how to do different stuff

especially if you didn't know how to already

and would overall be very playful with you

throwing flour at you, splashing with water etc.

and then afterwards you would just chill on the couch and eat the dinner you’d just made

talking about the most random shit

and without realising it, the two of you would be cuddling

and you’d wake up in the morning to find you’d fallen asleep on each other🥺

punz:

laser tag

mans loves competition

and would definitely want to be a show-off to you

you'd have an room just for yourself

hiding behind walls and obstacles until you stumbled into each other

and he wouldn't hesitate to raise his laser gun at you

and shoot you right in the chest with a menacing laugh

after a while it’d just be a battle between two

tackling each other all the time

and at some point he’d have you up against the wall

and as you were about to kiss

you’d lift you gun at him and shoot him right in the chest

which won you the game

afterwards, he’d follow you home

and maybe give you that kiss he tried to give you before

he’d be very down to stay with you for the night if you wanted him to

awesamdude:

the beach

you’d bring a bunch of fun activities with you

like card games, a beach volley game, etc.

and maybe even join in on a game of mini golf near you

you could also just be chilling on your towels

under the sun or under the shade

whatever your preference is

and then go into the water eventually

playing around together and just having fun

splashing water at each other

he’d sneak his way over to you

and just lift you up from under the water and onto his shoudlers

just laughing at the way you were screaming for him to let you down

when you got on the shore again, it felt easier to be affectionate with each other

you’d definitely go for ice cream on the way home

holding hands👉👈

eret:

karaoke bar

it would literally be the funniest time with him

you’d gotten one of those private rooms

so it would just be the two of you in the room

and you’d have so much fun choosing your favourite songs

and sometimes you'd just sit there and chat

while karaoke music played in the background with none of you singing

he’d want to duet with you at some point

bringing you close to him just to see you get all flustered

I could definitely imagine a first kiss right then

if it had all gone right throughout the night

when you were on your way back home

he’d lend you his jacket

and just tell you to keep it

“I’ll just pick it up tomorrow.”

tommy:

the zoo

tommy would be walking around commenting on literally every animal

“y/n look. hey, y/n. look at this ones’ face.”

takes a lot of pictures of the animals

and of you with the animals

and when you suspiciously asked if he was taking pictures of you after you’d spotted him

he’d just brush it off, immediately hiding his phone away

“of you? obviously, it was of the giraffe behind you.”

“tommy, there is no giraffe behind me.”

doesn't show any affection

he’s super nervous about the whole “touch” thing

so he just stays away from it

but if you were to grab his hand

he wouldn't pull away

he’d just stand there with red ass fucking cheeks

and would be praying for the animals to save him from any awkward situations

tubbo:

picnic

you’d be picking flowers together

flowers for the flower boy :)

and even make flower crowns if you felt really creative

enjoying the delicious foods you'd brought with you

he’d also be quite intimidated by affection, like tommy

but would very very subtly show it

only a little bit though

like, it would be pretty obvious whenever he got caught up staring at you

just looking at you as you picked at the grass outside of the blanket you were sat on

and sometimes he’d place a hand on you without really realising that that was something more unusual than you were used to

you’d bring a bracelet kit

and make cute little matching bracelets for each other

a really enjoyable date overall

with lots of laughter and chatter

ranboo:

an aquarium

even though c!ranboo is clearly not the biggest fan of water

this ranboo finds it quite fascinating

a pretty chill and easy-going first date

exactly what he wants

you’d walk around the whole aquarium

and make fun of the fishes with funny-looking faces

and then proceed to take pictures of each other by the fishes with the funny-looking faces

he would find it so adorable whenever you would point at one of the sea-creatures

and just look so amazed by it

he would literally almost melt right beside you

the closest thing to affection he would do, is putting a hand on your waist

it doesn't really progress further than that unless you initiate it

a proud moment of his was when he almost fell into the penguin inclosure

and you couldn’t stop laughing at it

a successful date to his eyes

___________________________________

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[rezzyromance]

Idk if this is how you request things or if it's just asking, BUT-

How would the Lords react to an S/O that's usually the chillest person that you will ever meet (not to be confused with a pushover because they are not), they've never seen them even mildly annoyed when something bad happens. But then something happens and, turns out, the S/O is utterly TERRIFYING when they're mad.

Hope this makes sense!

Aw man I'm gonna feel awful scaring Moreau and Donna :(

Alcina

You're relaxing on a beautiful morning. The sun is shining through the window just enough to warm the room but not hurt your eyes. You hadn't even changed out of your sleep wear. "How are you feeling, my dear?", a sweet voice rang from the doorway. You were sitting in your favorite chair near the window. You turn and smile at her. She walks over and rubs your face in her large hand before leaning down and giving you a soft kiss. "I'm feeling amazing. And you?", you grab her hand before she pulls it away and you place a kiss on her knuckles. "I'm feeling alright. There's a new maid here. She's a bit slow. I'm giving her until tonight to finish dusting the entire castle or else she won't see another sunrise." It was almost comedic how dark her words were as you both stared out the window and gazed at the beautiful scenery. "Come on Alcina.", you stand up and place your hands on hers, trying to hold them despite the size difference. "Give the girl a break. It's a huge castle AND it's her first day.", you knew your words would probably change nothing. Alcina was rather cruel, but you looked past it. You tried your best to make the nervous maids comfortable whenever they arrive.

"We'll see how she does." She gives you one more kiss before leaving the room. You sit back down in your chair, enjoying the warmth of the sun for a little while longer. You lose track of time, minutes maybe even hours go by. Suddenly, there's a crash not far from the door. You jump and stand up, no longer comfortable after being startled. "What in the name of Mother Miranda?!", you leave the room and look down the hallway. The new maid stood there with a terrified look on her face. In front of her was one of the paintings Alcina had on her walls, now with a broken frame and a hole punctured. Your blood began to boil. It was a painting of you, her, and the girls all together. It was your favorite. "How in the hell did you manage to do that?!", you begin to stomp towards her. She cowers and struggles to find her words. "I-I-I was just dusting! It fell and I-I didn't mean t-", you cut her off. "How the fuck did you knock such a large painting over just by dusting?! DO YOU THINK YOU'RE ALLOWED TO MAKE SUCH STUPID MISTAKES HERE?!", you unravel. "I-I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!", she almost begins to weep. "SORRY ISN'T GONNA SAVE YOUR ASS!"

"MISS DIMITRESCU PLEASE HELP!", she cries out. You freeze, realizing that the lady herself is right behind you. You turn to face her. Her eyes are wide with shock. She has never seen you like this before and never even knew you had this type of side to you. She was impressed as much as she was terrified. "(Y/N)? Are you alright my love?" She had no idea what to do as your seething slowed down. "Why don't you go back to the room, yes? Settle down a little and deal with her later.", she places a hand on your back helps walk with you back to the room. Once you're there, she bends down to whisper in your ear. "I don't know where this side of you has been this whole time, but I am so amazed by you. And also a little frightened."

Donna

The Beneviento house was usually a calm place despite its creepy aura. You and Donna are both quiet and chill people. Never once have you fought or even raised your voices at each other. It was pleasant.

You had planned a nice dinner for the both of you. You wanted to try out a new recipe and surprise her, so you made your way to the kitchen to get started. "Okay, what first? I guess I'll need a pot.", you go rummaging through the kitchen and you find the pots stacked within each other inside one of the top cabinets. You groan and stand up on your toes, grazing the pots with your fingers. It didn't take much to cause them to tumble down, crashing on top of you with a loud sound that followed. "Aw shit.", you sighed and picked up the knocked over pots. A small but annoying pain began to throb in your head from where it made contact with a pot. What you didn't notice was you forgot to pick one of the pots up. It remained unnoticed. "It's fine.", you say to yourself as you maintain your composure. Next, a cutting board and knife. You turn around and begin to walk forward to find the cutting board, but you slam your toe into counter. You wince in pain and grab your foot. "SON OF A BITCH!", you yell.

You calm yourself, still wanting to have a pleasant meal with Donna. "Alright. Everything's fine." You step forward and kick the pot that you had forgotten to pick up. It caused your freshly kicked toe to ache even more. "OH COME ON! GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!", you scream and swear as you throw your arms up in pure rage and shock.

"...(Y/N)?", a gentle voice whispered from the doorway, causing you to whip your head in that direction. It was Donna. She looked absolutely horrified and almost looked like she could cry. "Is.. is everything... are you alright?", she worried. "Yes. I'm sorry. Just got a little pissed off.", you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, feeling bad for scaring the poor girl.

Moreau

You were sitting on the dock together, looking into the water as your feet swung back and forth above it. It was a sunny day and you two decided to spend it outside. Your hand slowly made its way over to his. His feet stopped swinging for a second as you entangled your fingers. "I don't know what I'd do without you, (Y/N)." his words were bitter sweet as a gentle smile formed from his lips. "Oh, Sal. You don't have to think like that. I'll always be here for you.", you kiss his cheek and continue to relax as you sway your legs.

"There it is! There's the beast!", a voice yelled from not so far away. You both look in the direction of the voice and see a few young village boys. Possibly between the ages of 13 and 16. Moreau had become some what of a scary story for the villagers. A tale that kids spread on school court yard and bring up during dares. But, you've never seen a kid brave enough to actually make it far enough into the reservoir to actually see Moreau. Now, there were about 3. All of them stood and pointed, shocked and terrified.

"Hey beast! Come get me!", one kid teases. You glare at the kids as a newfound rage begins to boil inside you. "Let's go back inside.", Moreau says before standing up from the doc. The sadness in his voice was heartbreaking. Suddenly, one of the children gathers the guts to pick up a rock and throw it as hard as he could. His aim was off, but not by much. It slammed into the wood near Moreau's feet, startling him. "Take that you devil!", he laughs. "THAT'S IT YOU LITTLE SHIT!", you begin sprinting in the direction of the immature brats. Two of them run from the direction they came from while the one who threw the rock was frozen in fear. You took the opportunity to grab him by the collar of his shirt. "Listen here you little waste of space. I'm gonna give you 3 seconds to turn around and run for your goddamn life. If you or any of your little snot-nosed friends come around here again, they'll be goddamn fish food. Do you understand?" The kid was too scared to speak and instead began to nod rapidly. You let him go and watched as he ran as fast as he could, screaming the whole way.

You walk back to the shack and find Moreau standing in the same place he was when you took off. His mouth was agape and he looked almost as scared as the kids. "You alright Sal? I made sure those little shits won't be coming around here anymore." "Yeah... I didn't know you could be so... scary", he says. "I'm sorry. But those kids were being cruel. I had to do something.", you say. "Well... it was awesome!", he smiled. "But also very scary!" You laugh which helps sooth him a little.

Heisenberg

"Screw driver.", is all Karl said with an outstretched palm. He was working on some type of mechanical heart for his experiments. He wanted you to lend a "helping hand" even though he could easily do it all by himself. He did this because he wanted to be around you, he was just too stubborn with too big of an ego to simply say it. So here you were, handing him every little tool he asks for.

"Do you want the big one or the little one?", you say with a hint of boredom in your tone. "Aw c'mon don't sound like that! Isn't this exciting? It's like you're working on it with me! Also, hand me the big one.", you do as he says and hand him the big screw driver. "I just don't get it. You literally have powers. You can easily do this by yourself and have been for so long. Why do you need me to help?" He pauses for a second and looks over towards you, his brow slightly furrowed. "I don't NEED you to help. I just thought it would be nice for you to help out. Plus, you're the one always bitching about me constantly working. Well, here you are! Helping me work! So, either suck it up or you can leave." His harshness had no real ill will in it. He was just confused and a bit too ignorant to consider his words. But, he was testing your patience. He continued to use the screwdriver until handing it to you without saying a word.

"Hand me a screw.", he demanded with his hand facing palm up again. "Which size?" "They're all the same sizes, dumbass." You feel your blood begin to boil. "They're different fucking sizes! This one is smaller than this one!", you hold up two screws that are obviously different sizes. This makes Karl angry. Not because you were right, but because you seemed upset over something that seemed so insignificant.

"If you came here just to yap in my ear, then I don't think I need your assistance.", he huffed. You put the selection of tools and supplies he was making you hold on the table he is working on and ball your fists. "You're the one who told me to do this in the first place!", you yell. "Yeah, because you won't stop bitching! Non-stop you're always compla-" you cut him off before he can finish. "SHUT UP!", you yell. The room goes silent. "YOU SAY I'M BITCHING? HAVE YOU HEARD YOURSELF? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST KARL YOU BITCH AND MOAN ALL THE TIME! I'M DONE TAKING SHIT FROM YOU!" He wanted to be angry, but he couldn't. He felt something much more overwhelming. Was he.. intimidated? He didn't move from his seat. All he could do was look up at you with a confused expression. What now? What is there to do? If he pushes you further, what would happen? He was actually too scared to find out.

You take a deep breath to calm down before speaking. "Now, if you want me to help with your shit, I'll stay as long as you keep your mouth shut. Can you possibly manage to do that?" He gulps nervously. "Yes ma'am."

[scarlet-ancunin]

Hiii I saw requests were opened for doctor ian Wright so can I ask for reader pulling ian away from his work bc they are stressing over it, to try and relax them reader puts music on and starts slow dancing with them. Idk something cute between the two

sureee but imma add another Anon request here because it just matches the whole motive of Ian being adorable and looking to be stubborn as well I hope you both like it ^^

Other Anon: Hi, first of all, I LOVE YOUR WORKS! Now, can you please write a sick character (Ian) + comfort? Thanks🤓

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I Told You Not To Overdo IT

it was another day in the private military operations section and you got a call from Addison at 3 in the afternoon. "Hello? oh, hey Addison it's been a while, I'm doing great I just finished a meeting with the company's management team."

you were a Chief Executive Officer for a well-known technology company people would do trades and services with your company because you help them with any flaws or improve on them. Recently Magic made friends with this company picking you and five more people to help with anything needed for the quantum leap project. the deal was how you met Ian Wright and that was how you both fell in love with each other.

which is why Addison was calling you now. Because you both would help each other when one is not doing so well. it would seem your love was the one that needed some attention.

"Oh im sorry it just....Well Ian has been stressed out lately and this seems to be taking a toll on how they act."

You was about to ask how do you mean until you hear Ian complaining to a worker that they can't do anything without them fixing it "give me an hour" you said already driving to your home to change.

Wasn't long before you made it to the facility and saw Ian typing away on a laptop their friends far away and watching how You manage to calm the geeky beast.

"Ian, my love come on" you said sternly. They turned to speak up but seeing it was you they sighed knowing what was about to happen "I'm fine. I dont know why they called you" they said turning to type once more until you rolled their chair away.

"Listen stressing out wont help you think and your going to make yourself sick by doing this and not considering your needs. Not to mention your being rude so come on or i won't play with your hair"

They look at you before taking their glasses off sighing "fine"

Once home their favorite music was playing and you grin seeing them sighing visibly seeing them relax being home.

You took their hand and danced with them in the living room giggling with them and kissing them softly on the lips wrapping your arms around their neck "see relaxing isn't so bad love besides I love you and i dont like seeing you stressed out" you gave them a cute pout and they lean close kissing you deeply.

"I'll try to do better y/n"

Their better was much worse because you was in the middle of getting ready to cook when you got a text message from Magic which was rare.

Magic: "Did Ian tell you they was sick?"

Y/n: "No Ian looked fine for the past week" you realized that was why they wasn't home when you woke up they left before you can notice they look like crap.

your phone buzzed with another message from Magic. "I found them having a coughing fit and Addison said she had to catch them because they stumbled slightly."

You sigh frowning before getting a message from Jenn with a picture of Ian head down on their desk. You pout and rushed to the facility.

They worked instead of taking care of themselves. "Dammit Ian why do you do this to yourself." You said while driving there.

Once there you came in time to hear Magic telling Ian to take some time off.

"No i don't need to, I'll be fine i just need to figure this out quickly so we can get Ziggy working properly" they said sounding adorable trying to make a point sounding congested.

"Ian do what Magic says please.." you said walking and shaking Magic's hand before pouting at them. "Your going to rest i don't want to hear it, you scolded me for working while i was sick so now im going to do the same" with that you take their hand and walk away with them before looking back

"They will be in by Friday" eveyone could hear Ian complaining the whole way out.

Once home Ian was asleep on the couch while you made them soup. You came back to the living room seeing Ian asleep still. "Honey? Wake up i made some soup"

All that was heard was a pitiful moan and a soft okay. They sat up hair messy and heavy eyes as they leaned against your touch feeling the coolness of you hand.

After they ate and was sentenced to hed rest Ian felt you kiss their lips.

Their eyes shoot open "hey what are you doing i could get you sick"

You giggle lightly holding them closer "well that means you can take care of me and relax" you pointed out which they shake their head.

"And you tell me not to overdo it."

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Taglist: @justaproudslytherpuff, @sherazyjade, @the-masked-scorpio, @sugakookieswithacupoftae16, @happilydangerousworld, @harlekin6

[whirlybirbs]

               (   another gif by @unearthlydust​ from this beautiful set !   )

✪   —   VACANT MIRRORS  ;  B.B.  |  3/?

summary: you find out about bucky’s past, he finds out about yours. 

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 6.4k, va va voom

a/n: oh look out here comes the plot, charactization, and growth between to pals who are maybe starting to feel a little something begin to take shape. but ignore that, there’s danger afoot. no spoilers for tfatws here!

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“You know I have to ask these questions. It’s part of the check-in.”

“Yeah,” you fire back, flat enough to warrant Dr. Hart’s scowl to grow. You can’t see it over the phone, but you know the way her words whip around you means she’s upset, “I know.”

“If you’re not following the action plan set out by the judge,” she begins, leaning forward as her tone drops into a scalding hot sort of seriousness on the other end, “You will go to prison. You know this. So, do you want to spend ten years of your life behind bars? Are you trying to get yourself locked up? Come on.”

You can’t look up from your computer’s screen. Or maybe you can, but right now, there’s a dangerous mixture of anger and guilt and frustration boiling under your skin.

“I’m trying.”

“Trying isn’t good enough for the GRC,” Dr. Hart snaps, “You know this. They’re giving you a chance — they know you’re talented. You have the ability here to go straight, to earn a living, to finally make up for those years of blackhat work.”

“Everything I did,” you fire back, ripping your eyes up to meet Dr. Hart’s, “Was for others. I didn’t get a fucking penny.”

“You’re not Robin Hood,” she shakes her head as her tone softens, “We all make mistakes. But, everything has a consequence. You know this. And this conversation isn’t even considering the other charges.”

“You know the extortion case would never hold up in court.”

Dr. Hart sighs raggedly. “And I don’t intend on ever seeing it play out in court, because you’re going to follow the conditions of your pardon.”

“The GRC is a bunch of fascists—”

“Enough,” she snaps, “If you want to go and appeal your case with the judge, be my guest, but I can almost guarantee you’ll be perp-walked out of that Federal courtroom in cuffs.”

She’s right.

Dr. Hart is right.

Your knee is bouncing, up and down and up and down. You’re wound up around yourself, arms crossed tight, brows knotted. With a shaky exhale, you just nod. You breathe, and you remind yourself that she’s right. She’s right, she’s right, she’s right. It’s not worth it. Dipping yourself back into that world, the layer of the web beneath the surface, isn’t worth it.

The GRC is your way out.

Just be a good little girl and do as you're told.

“So, I’m going to ask you again,” Dr. Hart begins, pen clicking alive on the other end of the phone call, “...Have you engaged in any illegal activities online in the last seven days?”

                                                       ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦   

Inessa Sidrova’s photo stares up at him from its place on the speckled marble counter, stacked neatly next to his notebook where her name is scrawled in chicken scratch — between two other names: Zemo and Henrikson.

His laptop, technically on loan from the FBI, sits beside both.

(When Barnes had agreed in that closed doors meeting to the conditions of his pardon, a certain FBI agent by the name of Jimmy Woo had been rather insistent that Barnes needed a personal computer in order to carry out his portion of the conditions insofar as tracking down the remaining HYDRA pawns in the States. Woo had also insisted, to the agreement of Dr. Raynor, that a personal computer would help better acclimate Barnes to the new world he’d been dropped into.

Woo was even nice enough to take an hour of his own time to show Bucky enough to get started — but was whisked away for some investigation out in New Jersey.)

Bucky rubs the cold vibranium of his left palm into his eye, then exhales long and slow.

He’s done all he can. And still, no leads on the woman.

Rounding the kitchen island, he digs his cell from his pocket. He goes back to staring at that text — the one he’d laughed out loud at the moment it lit up his phone — and he can feel that ol’ bite of anxiousness creep into his arms. His fingertips tingle.

On the television, a laugh track plays over a clip of The Three Stooges. Blue eyes flick upward, and he partially wishes a ladder would put him out of his own self-induced misery.

Outside, the antics of a Saturday night in Brooklyn roll on.

In the last few days he’s parsed through his thoughts enough to realize it’s not telling you that scares him — no, it’s telling you the truth. The whole truth. All of it. After all, the good comes with a lot of bad; the sort of bad you chain in a chest and sink in the ocean. And Bucky finds that, even still, the good is questionable at best. The good is… small. Microscopic. Completely and totally tainted by the fuckin’ decades of brainwashed, war dog bullshit.

He groans and drops his head back against the wall.

He tries, for the next twenty minutes, to formulate some sort of reply to your text message. But, half the battle is figuring out what to say, and the other half is actually typing it out. This whole flip phone purchase was really starting to sting like regret — and as much as Bucky loved technology back before the war, and all the magical possibilities it held, he can’t help but feel like an ornery old man now.

It’s the change. Steve was right. Too much change.

He can’t find the space button and he can’t figure out how to delete the random 3 he’d accidentally punched in — so, with a grumpy huff of disapproval, Bucky simply dials your number.

You pick up on the third ring.

“Don’t you know it’s Saturday?” your voice is a welcomed sound, “The History Channel is running a bunch of old war documentaries you might enjoy, grandpa.”

Bucky snorts, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie. “What makes you think I’d wanna watch that shit?”

“Everyone knows that old men like two things,” your voice is light, half-distracted from the sounds of it, “World War Two, or grilling. And honestly, you don’t strike me as the grilling type.”

“I like a good burger.”

“Yeah?” you snort, and Bucky can hear you shift your phone from one ear to the other, “Is that why you called? To hint at being hungry?”

“No,” he exhales, looking out the window, “No, I was trying to reply to your text but I can’t find the fuckin’ space button. Calling is easier.”

“Oh my god—”

“Shut up,” he barks with a laugh, sitting up, “Don’t even start — are you hungry?”

“Almost always, why?”

“Got any plans tonight?”

“... You do know who you’re asking, right?”

Bucky grins, a little boyish and a little tired. “Good point. Loser.”

“Oh, shut up. You’re the one calling me to hangout,” you snort, leaning to prop your feet up on your desk and lean back. Your chair wheels backwards, far enough for you to get a good look down the street. It’s a nice night, cool enough, and it seems like the whole borough is awake, “But, I’m only hanging out if you tell me what the fuck is up with court mandated therapy. I can’t wait another three days.”

Your anxiety has been pricked the last few days over it.

“... Do I get to pick the place?”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

“Great,” he exhales tightly, “I hope you’re in the mood for sushi.”

                                                       ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦   

Izzy’s is busy, but there’s privacy in the bustle.

Bucky had buzzed your apartment’s ringer and you’d flown down the stairs, looking… alive. The sort of alive that was new — like a fresh bud beginning to bloom in spring. It had made him grin, and he’d watched you push a tress of hair behind your ear as you decided it was warm enough for no jacket tonight. The light of the crosswalk sign lit you up like a star.

He was sweating.

Dr. Raynor was right — that was it, of course it was — that it was getting too warm for his usual outfit. So, he’d settled on the next best thing: a sweatshirt that was big enough and black enough that he could bury himself in it. His hands are tucked neatly into the pockets.

No gloves tonight.

He feels naked.

He shoulders the door and holds it open with the toe of his boot as you duck towards the back of the restaurant. There’s a booth in the back by a large bamboo plant — you weave through the place with a new found confidence. There’s anxiousness in your shoulders but it melts when you look back at Bucky. Like a watchful guard dog, he nods.

You settle into the booth, toss your jacket in the corner, and smirk.

“I get out sometimes,” Bucky remarks before you can even say anything. He shifts in the booth and reaches up to scratch his cheek with his right hand, “Not often, but I do.”

“I didn’t say anything...”

“You were going to,” he nearly smirks back, his brows raised as he adjusts the chopsticks on the table, “I know that look.”

You snort, nudging his boot under the table. That works a huffed little laugh out the man across from you. Almost immediately you can sense anxiousness rolling off him — it’s the tightness in his mouth that gives him away, the way he’s fussing with the soy sauce dish and trying to get it to line up perfectly with the marbling on the table. Worry flashes in your eyes.

“Bucky.”

He raises his head.

“You alright?” you ask quietly.

“You have to promise not to flip out.”

Your brows knot tightly — but before you can even question what the fuck he means, he’s casually dropping his other hand onto the table.

And you almost don’t notice at first. Your brain fills the gaps in, figuring it’s his glove. But, then you blink and his hand catches the light and you realize it’s not leather. It’s glittering obsidian, garnished with gold, and it’s moving. Flexing. Seams bending and warping and there’s a gentle hum coming from the appendages and you squint because he’s tapping his fingers on the table and there’s a metallic tik-tik-tik that meets your ears.

Then, your eyes jump to his face.

He looks pained.

You’re confused.

And then you’re not.

“You’re —”

You slap a hand over your own mouth. You have to promise not to flip out. Your eyes are eighty miles wide and your jaw is falling open and you’re leaning forward, whispering in a rushed tone because what the fuck.

“You’re that Bucky?!”

Oh, you feel stupid.

The hostess appears, suddenly. You snap backwards in the booth, Bucky tucks his hand away, and you both muster forced smiles to the waitress. She’s young. Pretty. Her name-tag says Sarah.

She asks about drinks.

Bucky gets a beer.

Slowly, you knock your knuckles against the table and drop your head into your hand. The look on your face is exhausted. “Do you guys have Mai Tais?”

The answer is yes. And you’re glad. Because you’re going to fucking need it.

The two of you are quiet until the drinks come — avoiding one anothers gazes for completely different reasons. Bucky is sheepish, a bit mortified, like he always is when people recognize him. It’s why he shaved his fuckin’ head. It worked well enough but… the arm was usually a dead giveaway.

Meanwhile, you’re wondering if you could shave your own head and disappear. Because there’s no easy way to explain the weird elation swirling in your chest right now.

Bucky’s first to speak. His beer is in his good hand. He inhales quickly, eyes darting to you as he leans forward and whispers incredulously. He speaks quickly and his words are pointed with an edge of curiosity.

“...What do you mean ‘that Bucky’?”

“Y’know, I knew there was a reason you acted like you needed a senior citizen discount. And you know exactly what I mean,” you rush out all while waving your Mai Tai and jabbing the side with the umbrella towards him, “Listen, this is a lot to take in, Mr. Avenger.”

“I am not an Avenger—”

“You helped reverse the Snap. You’re the Winter Soldier. That makes you an Avenger—”

Bucky’s shaking his head, eye screwed shut tightly because the sudden equation to his past self being considered a hero is like being socked in the mouth. He stutters over his words and shakes his head more vigorously, like he’s trying not to hear what you’re saying.

“I am not the Winter Soldier. Not anymore. And it’s not like I’m not on the fuckin’ roster, doll—”

You hold a finger up, stopping him there, and take a long sip of your sunset colored drink. You swallow. You exhale. Bucky swigs his beer.

“One, don’t call me doll,” you say curtly, then raise a second finger. You lean in and squint, “Two… Christ, the haircut really makes a big difference, doesn’t it?”

“That’s what everyone keeps saying,” he sighs raggedly, dismissing your scrutiny.

You puff your cheeks out and exhale. Leaning back in the booth, you try not to feel so fucking insane.

“...I can never have you over now.”

Bucky’s brows narrow quickly and his eyes snap to yours. “What?”

“I can’t have you over,” you explain slower with your eyes rooted to the soy sauce in the corner, “Because I don’t think I could ever handle you seeing my signed and framed Captain America poster from his USO tour in 1943.”

Bucky’s face is deadpan. “You’re kidding.”

“I really wish I was,” you gripe, “It’s an original.”

“...You’re a Cap girl,” he says suddenly, leaning back with this look in his eye. It’s less of a question. You can’t pin it down. It looks like he's damn near traumatized.

Bucky thinks — honestly — that this is the cherry on top. Every girl back then was a Cap girl, too. It figures, now, in this new century where he’s making new friends that… as per usual, Steve gets the cake. That fuckin’ pint sized bastard.

He’ll have to tell him about this.

You yank your eyes up to Bucky’s face. His mortification is shifting to surprise to amusement. You’re fast to sit up, mouth opening to fire a retort — but Bucky’s suddenly really enjoying the look of pure horror on your face at the insinuation. He’s smirking. Plain as day. He swigs his beer.

“No, no—” you raise a finger, “No, stop it. Don’t make it fuckin’ weird, Bucky, it’s not like I have his name tattoo’d on my ass. And I knew a girl in college who did.”

His brows rise sharply and you’re finding you’re regretting everything that’s coming out of your mouth.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you guffaw, gesturing for him to show you his hand again, “I wanna see.”

Bucky sighs and plucks his hand from his hoodie pocket.

With a sort of tenderness Bucky wasn’t prepared to handle, you take his metallic hand into your own. There’s an immediate twinge — one that’s procured by flashes of violence from years of being a walking weapon. He breathes, and he reminds himself that this arm is not the same that tethered him to HYDRA all those years ago.

This arm is his, it is not him.

The sensation is different. He isn’t used to anyone touching him like this; he’s used to the feeling of flesh on the other end of a punch, or a throat caught in his palm. Not the gentle pass of your fingers, delicate and purposeful, over his knuckles.

You turn over his hand, eyes alight with curiosity — and Bucky, desperate to stamp out the hotness growing in his gut, moves quickly to flick your nose.

“Ow—”

“Don’t stare,” he says coyly, “It’s rude.”

The waitress is back. His hand is tucked away, and you wrestle the stupid expression off your face long enough to order a plate of assorted maki rolls and some fried tofu. Bucky orders what seems like his usual — shrimp tempura and spicy tuna rolls.

The waitress, Sarah, disappears with a smile.

You’re grinning.

“So… Does this make me the sidekick?” you whisper playfully.

“Shut up,” Bucky laughs, his lips almost darting into a smile.

You cock your head, pushing your chopsticks across the table with a horribly coy look on your face. It’s comical. “...I think this makes me the sidekick.”

“It — stop it — it does not make you the sidekick,” Bucky says slowly as he sips his beer and pins you in the booth across from him, “I’m not a hero. You’d have better luck asking Cap on that one.”

You grow silent. There’s a question hanging on your tongue. You’re wrestling with yourself — Bucky can see that much. He frowns.

“Spit it out, Goose.”

You blink. “Was that a Top Gun reference?”

“You wanted to be the sidekick.”

You wave it off, blinking into your Mai Tai. Your voice is quiet. Even as you speak, there’s a hesitancy akin to walking on eggshells. “What happened to Cap? Is he… alive? He’s gone off the grid. It’s, like, this massive conspiracy theory online.”

“He’s upstate.”

You blink.

“That’s ominous.”

Bucky shrugs. “Someday I’ll take you. It’s… nice.”

You go quiet. You freeze, drink halfway to your mouth. Bucky can’t help but smirk at that. His laugh is more of a scoff than anything.

“Relax, Miss America.”

“Shut up — do you mean that?”

“What, that I think you’re in love with Captain America?”

“No, you bastard, that you’ll take me. To meet him.”

Bucky’s words are easy. They roll off his tongue without a second thought. He feels… okay. Like this part is okay. Not as bad as he thought it could be. His anxiousness isn’t as heavy now. He feels like he isn’t losing you. But then again, he hasn’t gotten to the bad part yet.

“He’s my best friend,” Bucky explains plainly, “And so are you.”

The admission is warm. As easy as breathing. Two months in the making.

“Your only friend,” you say quietly, offering the joke as a cover for the softening tone that dances over your words. It’s affection, you realize, as you mimic his shrug, “But, go on.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Bucky chirps, “But, yea, I mean it. He’d like you.”

You raise your chin, wiggling a bit in the booth. It’s pride — and as much as Bucky likes the look of it, he can’t handle the ridiculousness that comes along with it. But, it’s sort of comforting. He knows this playfulness, this easiness, it’s all because he’s him. You trust him. In.a way, it strikes Bucky with guilt. There are wall of his still built up high. Maybe they’re slowly coming down, but… he’s like a stray dog, slow to trust.

“Safe to say,” you breathe, “I have a few questions.”

“I figured as much.”

You sip your drink and swallow. You raise a hand. “But — I wanna know the boundaries. I don’t want to… I don’t want to pry about shit I have no business knowing, alright? It’s your life and even if we are friends, I don’t need to know everything.”

The relief is almost immediate. He thumbs the label of his beer.

“Ask anything. But I can’t promise I’ll be able to give you the answers.”

“And I’ll leave it at that,” you say sternly, propping your elbow up on the table and offering your pinky finger, “Until you want to talk about it. Promise.”

He crooks his pinky in yours, squeezing gently. You smile.

Sarah comes back with the food, and then Bucky offers his usual half-exhausted, half-amused smirk.

“You get three questions now. Then, we shut up and eat.”

You fold your hands neatly over themselves, eyeing your food as you try your best to sort out what questions come up with the most urgency. There’s… a lot. I mean, everyone knew about the Avengers — and everyone had their opinions. The Sokovia Accords, Lagos, the Blip… and SHIELD. Years of bullshit culminating around those who were considered the heroes. The kickback usually ended up on everyday citizens like you. After the initial amazement, the reality of it all set in.

But, to Bucky’s point, he wasn’t really an Avenger.

Nowadays, there really wasn’t a team at all. No up-state compound, no leader, no Stark and no Rogers.

You’re sure the GRC will try — that the military will try. Morale and hope and blah, blah, blah.

You narrow your eyes. “How old are you?”

It’s quick. “One hundred and six.”

“How’d they keep you alive that long?”

There’s a wince that flashes across his face like he’s been stabbed with a white hot poker in the ribs. You see a twitch of irritation bubble across his lips. Not with you. No, it’s that this question is still hard for him to answer. Bucky exhales sharply.

“Next question.”

You feel a pang of guilt flare in your chest. You move along.

“Who kept you alive that long?”

“The Russians. HYDRA, if you wanna get specific.”

You exhale and settle on the fact you now have more questions than answers. But, you nod and snatch up your chopsticks. Enough of the twenty questions game.

In all honesty, it’s not like Bucky’s existence was common knowledge. The Winter Soldier was known mostly, sure, to those who had floated in the same circles as him when he was nothing but a rabid cur on a choke chain. He can’t help but be a bit thankful for the minor erasure of his new self — sure, in the eyes of the U.S. government he was a high-level threat to be reintegrated as soon as possible and surveyed at all times. But, to the average New Yorker, he was just another person. Everyone was so used to seeing the heroes in their costumes with their bigger than life personas and…

Bucky was just Bucky.

Even he didn’t really know who that was. He was starting to.

His pardon had come with some flak from some of the more political news outlets but… somehow, the details of the Winter Soldier’s exact crimes were being kept silent. Probably to avoid panic. And, even then, the connection between the newly alive James Buchanan Barnes and The Winter Soldier hadn’t been made yet in the public eye. He was glad.

The haircut definitely helped.

It’s like he was a walking classified redaction.

Bucky has a sushi roll in his mouth when he finally speaks. “For such a Captain American fan, I’m surprised you didn’t recognize me.”

“Oh, you’re really not gonna let that go, huh?” you say as you chew, covering your mouth. You swallow and waggle your chopsticks at him, “Listen, it’s been a while since I’ve… y’know, had my Avengers phase. That was years ago. It was at its peak when I worked for SHIELD. And besides, you’re kinda new to the whole superhero scene.”

Bucky frowns. “You worked for SHIELD...?”

“For a year,” you say tightly, “Back before the collapse.”

“Only a year?”

“It was for my graduate program,” you wave it off, “I won out on the most competitive internship NYU had to offer. I was working within their cybersecurity division. I will say I spent more time trying to sort of email phishing scams than anything else, though. I’m sure they saw my record and wanted to keep me away from the juicy stuff.”

Bucky squints.

You offer a sheepish shrug.

“I got into trouble when I was younger,” you sip your drink and sigh, “I always liked computers. I used to spend all my time on forum sites just… reading and talking to people and figuring out how these sites actually worked, so learning how to write my own code was just the next step. When I was fifteen, I learned how to tap phones. At sixteen, I was hijacking my neighbor’s internet conenctions and remotely controlling his laptop.”

“Sounds like a good time.”

“Yea, well, he was a sitting Senator who was having an affair with the nanny,” you mutter, “And I was stupid enough to try and blackmail him for cash. I wish I could say I learned my lesson.”

Bucky exhales long and hard at that, like he knows where that snap of misguided judgement goes. It’s not like he’s passing judgement onto you, but… like he knows the feeling. And you manage to not feel so small, then — telling him this is easy. It’s not your favorite part of your life by any means, but Bucky is listening. Really listening.

He fiddles with the paper wrapper of the chopsticks.

“So, less a Goose and more a Kevin Poulsen type, huh?”

You snort. “For an old man, I’m surprised you know who that is. But, I wasn’t hacking into the Pentagon at seventeen. I was too busy doing community service.”

“HYDRA had their eyes on him in the 90s,” Bucky mumbles through a bite of spicy tuna, the memory popping into his mind and flying out before he can stop it, “I remember… I thought his username was stupid.”

“Oh, you didn’t like Dark Dante?”

“Like I said,” Bucky chortles, “Stupid.”

“You wouldn’t have liked mine, then,” you smirk lightly, “It’s worse.”

Bucky raises his brows, somehow doubting that entirely. “Really?”

“...I was hackrabb1t for a long time. Y’know, with a ‘one’ for the ‘i’,” you cringe, “People kept thinking I was a furry.”

There’s a pause. Bucky’s face is set in an unreadable emotion. It’s confusion mixed with amusement mixed with… something else. When he speaks, he clears his throat and tilts his head.

“It’s clever. But,” a pause, “What is a furry? I’ve been seeing that word all over PlentyOfFish.”

Your jaw flies open. You raise your hands as your head reels around. Bucky has a look on his face like he knows, he knows he shouldn’t have asked and he definitely shouldn’t have given you enough context to know where he’s seen that phrase before, because now you’re looking at him like he has seventeen heads and they’re all on fire.

“Y’know what, nevermind—”

“—Oh, no, no, there’s way too much to unpack here,” you lean forward, “You’re on PlentyOfFish?”

“ChristianMingle wasn’t really my speed — stop laughing.”

“Shut up — stop it, stop — this is too much,” you say with a high voice, “If you get catfished, I’m not helping you track the person down…”

“—What the hell is a catfish?” he nearly cries, raising both hands in a desperate shrug, “I don’t even know what any of these words mean.”

“Oh, you sweet, naive, innocent, man—”

“No, no, no, no,” he chirps, raising a finger with a deadly look of seriousness on his face, “No, I am not naive or sweet or any of the above. I’ll take ‘cute’, sure, but none a’ those.”

“Is that what the furries call you on PlentyOfFish? Cute?”

He drops his head back against the booth and stares at the ceiling.

“Our friendship was a mistake, rabbit.”

You choke out a laugh. “Shut up, you walking claw machine.”

You’re both laughing now — quieter but sustained and everytime you think you’ve calmed down enough to sip your Mai Tai, you just have to look at the distraught, scruffy man across from you to break into another fit of muffled laughter. Finally, after what feels like forever, you both manage to calm down enough to finish the plates in front of you.

There’s a warmth that’s settled in Bucky’s chest — it’s eaten away at the usual jitter in his legs, the anxious twitch of his fingers. It’s a different emotion. Acceptance, maybe. Comfort. Affection.  

Then, while you’re piling the last bit of sushi rice into your mouth when your phone, set on the side of the table, begins to go off. It hums erratically, dancing in a circle, and all you do is stare at the name flashing across the screen. You’re smiling, hugging her. It’s from Jaimie’s wedding — out in some big, wide open orchard with the sun setting behind you. The picture there is old; you were both different people then.

Before… everything.

MOM Morristown, NJ

You scowl and stare.

Bucky blinks.

“You gonna get that?”

Quickly, you snap out of it. You reach and silence the buzzing with two quick taps. Quietly, you offer up a somber sigh.

“I never do.”

Bucky frowns again, this time with a worried look that digs deep into his eyebrows. You ignore it on purpose, pushing your plate away and leaning back in the booth. He knows what you’re doing — you’re avoiding his gaze, and therefore his own questions.

“Rabbit.”

“Oh, is that my new nickname, then?”

“It fits,” he chirps before crossing his arms, strategically hiding his metallic hand, “What’s up?”

You grow quiet — then it spills out.

“I can’t talk to her.”

“Why?”

You chew your lip. You bite your tongue and you hold back on the finer points of your anger — ones dredged up by the still present sting of your check-in with Dr. Hart this afternoon.

Here it comes.

“As a part of my pardon, I was ordered no-contact with my family,” you exhale, controlling the level of your voice, reciting the court papers you’d read over and over and over, “It was deemed that further contact would impact my progress towards reformed behavior and judgment.”

Bucky’s eyes are wide. His jaw is tight.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘pardon’?”

It’s your turn to cross your arms now, to ignore the sting of his look. It’s the kind that screams disappointment more than anything. You hate that you’re getting it from Bucky of all people.

“Like I said, I didn’t learn my lesson when I was a kid,” you shirk, “Last year I was arrested on a number of counts — I’d been evading the FBI, CIA, all of them, for years. I was doing it all for people like me. The ones who got left behind.”

Bucky’s tone is flat. It’s serious. His next sentence is less of a question, more of an order. The cadence is rhythmic and it reminds you of your brother the night he found out about the first time you’d been arrested; you decide, then, that Jaimie and Bucky would have gotten along.

“What did you do?”

“Whatever I could,” you wave your hands, “Identity theft, falsified documents, insurance fraud. Anything. There were people, like me, that in a blink, lost everything. Accidents, deaths, evictions and no one did anything for us. The insurance agencies wouldn’t cover damages related to The Snap. Life insurance policies, social security… It all got snatched up by people at the top while the system collapsed around us. I had to pay for my brother’s funeral out of pocket. And there were hundreds of thousands of people just like me, just trying to get by. And everything failed us.”

Bucky is stuck in silence. It’s like mud, dragging him to the bottom of a pond — the sort that’s dredged with misery. In an instant, his veins are on fire with an anger he hadn’t felt in a while. It manifests itself in the tightening of his jaw. He rubs his face and props his elbows up on the table.

“Why won’t they let you see your family?”

You fiddle with your napkin.

“My brother… His wife was on maternity leave when she disappeared in the Blip,” you mutter, “She came back to no job, a dead husband, and no home. Their apartment complex had been abandoned. She’s trying her best to make ends meet. She lives with my Mom in our old home. Neither of them can find work. They… The court thought that I’d be influenced to do something if I was around them.”

“What, like help?”

“They see me as a criminal,” you manage, “But I’m useful, so they’re keeping me around.”

Silence falls between the two of you once more — and the sad look on your face makes Bucky’s chest tight. He can see anxiety beginning to spill over; you’re wringing the napkin, fiddling with the edges. Suddenly, Bucky realizes you’re feeling exactly how he was an hour or so ago.

Your voice is soft. “I’m sorry. I was going to tell you.”

“Looks like we’re two birds of a feather,” he says, knocking the toe of your sneaker with his boot, “Listen, we all do stupid shit. I’ve got a lot worse weighing me down. I get it.”

You look up, sadness glistening in your expression like sun off a lake. It’s harsh. He wants to look away.

He doesn’t.

“... So, that means you’re good with computers?”

                                                      ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦  

That’s how you find yourself in Bucky’s Brooklyn apartment at almost midnight, wandering behind him in the long halls and watching curiously as he digs his key from his pocket and shoulders the door open.

It’s a small apartment. One bed, one bath, a kitchenette and that’s really it.

For its size, it’s hardly lived in.

You suppose it makes sense — Bucky didn’t have a lot of personal belongings, and with the hints he’d dropped about his life before The Blip, you were beginning to understand that he may have never really had that much to begin with.

There’s a blanket on the floor by the television and a single couch pillow. It’s tucked in the corner, behind a small sofa. There’s a chair in the living room, one from an old dining set. At the kitchen counter, there’s a stack of papers and a single laptop. Even though all the kitchen’s wares are older models, the bones of the apartment are good. Bare, but good.

You stop in the doorway to the bedroom and stare at the untouched bed. The sheets are tucked tightly in the corners — there’s something militaristic about it. Across the hall is the bathroom. It’s small. You can see a few amenities scattered across the sink’s top.

Being in here feels something like an open wound.

It was lonely. Quiet. Cold.

“We need to make a trip to HomeGoods,” you mumble as Bucky flicks on the lights, “I get the whole minimalist thing, but sheesh.”

“I don’t have a lot,” he says, kicking off his boots by the door and shrugging off his jacket, “And I don’t need a lot either.”

You watch as his shoulders sag a bit, like he can finally let down his guard just a little in his own space. It’s endearing. You perch yourself up on the kitchen counter as your eyes follow him; he moves to fling open a cabinet and grabs a mug. Then, he hesitates.

“You want tea?” he asks over his shoulder.

“Tea?”

“Dr. Raynor said,” Bucky reaches for a container of tea bags from the top shelf. His henley lifts enough to flash a bit of skin along his lower back and you swear you see a scar, “It would help with my anxiety.”

You swing your legs a little. “Then sure.”

“You can use my Captain America mug,” he chirps, laughing a little to himself, “Seeing as you’re such a big fan…”

“God, I regret even saying anything to you,” you spit as you hop down and lean around him to get a look at the mug, “Did you seriously buy that?”

“It was a gift.”

“Bullshit.”

Bucky snorts as you shake your head and wander backwards, eyeing the rest of his apartment with a bit of astonishment. It’s really nothing impressive — but, you suppose it makes sense. Whatever meager disbursement that the government was willing to give Bucky for his efforts in fixing the Snap was better than nothing.

Your gaze hangs on the blanket in the corner.

He watches you; and he notes the sore sadness that dissolves your posture at the sight of the nest in the corner. A bit of shame colors his cheeks as he heats up the water. When Bucky speaks, it’s slow.

“The bed was too soft. I couldn’t sleep on it,” he shifts from foot to foot and focuses on taking the tea bags out and methodically wrapping the strings around the handles, “Dr. Raynor said that’s a typical thing for soldiers to experience when they come home from war.”

You’re quiet for a while after that, only speaking when he rounds the counter with your tea. He offers it up with a tilt of the head.

“You never got to come home, though, right?”

“No,” comes the short reply as you both watch the lights outside the window, “No, I didn’t. Not until now.”

You nudge his arm with yours. You lean a bit. Bucky leans back.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he manages after a sigh and sip of the tea, “I can’t just feel sorry for myself anymore. I’m trying to fix the wrongs I did — and that’s why I need your help.”

You quirk a brow. He reaches around you and grabs the stack of papers on the counter. With a steady grip, Bucky presents the photo of a woman who looks strikingly familiar. You can’t place her face, but there’s something about her that feels like a slap across the cheek. She’s young here, in a faded photo with tattered edges. Beside her is a man who is laughing. The photo is candid, and they’re both beautiful. They’re both  wearing a uniform — but you can’t place the era or location.

You turn to Bucky for answers.

“Back in the 70s, at the height of the Cold War, HYDRA was working in tandem with the Russians to spy on American forces,” he offers easily, staring out the window, “The American HYDRA cell hadn’t yet been planted. This man, Andrei Kuznetzov, was a spy. He was feeding the Americans information on the Russian nuclear program. His wife, the one in the photo, was ordered to kill him. She refused.”

Bucky’s fingers twitch.

His words are soaked through with pain.

“I,” he continues, “killed him.”

You hold your breath. Then you spare him a mournful look.

“Inessa Sidrova went on to help form the same HYDRA cell that ended up taking over SHIELD here in America,” Bucky mumbles, “She’s dangerous. There’s others like her, ones who I helped create, all over the world. But, she’s my top priority. I just haven’t had much luck tracking her down.”

“That’s why you need my help.”

“I’m 106 years old,” Bucky deadpans, “The microfiches at the library were getting a little tedious.”

“But,” you chirp with a sly smirk, “You figured out how to set up a PlentyOfFish account?”

He shoulders you again as you sip your tea and laugh.

“Shoulda never said anything,” Bucky grumbles, “Dr. Raynor thought it was a good idea. Y’know, to get back out in the world.”

“I can promise you,” you say with a stern shake of the head, “The metal arm will get you plenty of chicks and dudes in due time.”

“Good to know,” Bucky replies as his words lilt with a playful sort of questioning that you purposefully ignore. You’re not feeding his ego today. Maybe tomorrow, after you take a crack at figuring out where this woman is.

It’s going to be a long night.

[jeonkaijoon]

Tae’s birthday

pairing: idol!taehyung x fem!reader.

rating: 18+

genre: drabble/smut.

content warning: harddom!taehyung, sub!reader, estabilished relationship, dirty talk, pet names, mentions of choking, kinda pwp, mentions of subspace, unprotected sex, degradation, “use of daddy”, impregnation kink, jealous/possessive tae I MEAN REALLY JEALOUS and cum denial so basically overstimulation... i think that’s all

word count: 855

note:english is not my first language and i wrote this thinking i was going to be able to control what my mind was making me type but looks like i got carried away...n e way i hope you enjoy! 

and also happy birthday tae :3

"You little brat. Were you having fun tonight rubbing yourself on Yoongi hyung's lap, just because Jimin said so uh? Y'all want to tease my anger even on my birthday. You were acting like a damn slut without a owner when you fucking have one!" he spanked your ass, wrapped his hand around your throat and his raw dick smashed again into your hole.

Taehyung was mad. Like really mad.

It was his birthday, everybody in the room was drunk, and you all were playing truth or dare, everything was fine until Jimin said “ Y/N, I dare you to get yourself off on Yoongi's thigh while Taehyung watches, but don't come.”

That bastard had to choose his girlfriend to make him jealous while he could just choose another dare… and everybody knew how jealous and overprotective Taehyung could become when it came to you, but not you, you didn’t.

He was always the cute caring boyfriend you had for the last two years, the freak one in the sheets and the one that chose the best places to take you on a date.

It would have been probably the best thing ever if it wasn’t for Taehyung, your boyfriend being completely drunk while his jealousy was eating him alive and Yoongi's hands being one of your biggest weaknesses.

Yoongi was guiding your hips and kissing your neck, he knew your weak points because of all the times Taehyung teased about them when you guys were together.

There was literally no shame between the group and you, constantly acting like a brat just knowing Taehyung deeply liked to punish you.

While the knot in your stomach was tightening, and when you had to stop to not cum, Taehyung left the room, boiling anger.

The exact moment you put your toes in your shared apartment, you could no longer escape what your boyfriend was planning to do to you.

It was almost an hour ago when Taehyung took your clothes off and threw them somewhere in your shared bedroom, then he immediately started biting your neck and marking it with his lips, leaving purple bruises all over the area.

He overstimulated you to your edge, eating you out and making you cum two times with only his tongue and fingers only preparing you for his cock to stretch you out like he never did.

He knew his size, he knew he could be hurting you right now but his mind was blurred by the idea of you getting turned on by rubbing your core on his best friend's s thìgh, he just couldn't get over it.

He made him so mad and jealous, he needed to claim you, to let everyone know at the end you were his and his only.

He wanted the media, the fans, he wanted the whole world to know you were his,and his only.

But right now you felt like you were his fuckdoll. And if you had to be honest, at that point, after a whole hour, that was starting to hurt you. His stamina didn’t even seem close to ending.

Degradation, marking, overstimulation, bruises all over your sides, “don’t you dare fucking cum until i say so.” he growled in your ear and started moving again, slapping your asscheeck again. He didn’t let you cum since when he entered you with his cock and it was hurting, still he couldn't care less, his possessiveness reached his maximum level. It hurt, it stinged, you were crying , but you couldn’t stop him, you didn’t want to, it strangely felt too good. 

He suddenly slowed down “why are you crying doll? Am I hurting you?” His voice was soft, probably he was just joking and not really caring, but you felt his voice far from your ear.

You felt like you couldn’t talk, you just nodded and you felt like your soul was leaving your body, but you could still feel everything he was doing to you.

Your boyfriend smirked proudly. He understood he sent you to subspace.

“Fuck doll you feel so good, hmpf- you want daddy’s cum?” he praised whispering in your ear, grinning and sending you to the edge once again. “Y-yes daddy i-i want you to cum in me” you babbled.

“Oh you want my babies, uh doll? you want to be swollen with my kids to let everybody know who fucked you so good? let everyone know that you are growing my kids, I own you and the children are mine? Uh babygirl that's what you want right?” Your pussy was clenching uncontrollably at his dirty talk. “Mhhh T-tae fuck yes!” you moaned, while your eyes hit the back of your head.

"T-Tae i need-" “Yes doll, cum for me” and this is what took you both to mix your juices together and let him spur his cum into you.

He collapsed on your back and laid his head in the crook of your neck.

He needed to get you out of your kind of subspace state, needed to be gentle with you from now on, even when the spark of anger was still in his chest.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

I.R.L.📷1

Warnings: noncon sexual acts and rape, voyeurism/exhibitionism, slight stalking, masturbation, naughty talk.

This is dark!(camboy!)Andy Barber. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your guilty pleasures becomes and all too real terror.

Note: I split this into two because it kept stretching on and on ahah. But I hope you’re ready for a creepy ass camboy.

Thank you so much for your patience! And support!!

As always, if you are so inclined, please like, reblog, and comment. <3

You could blame your break-up or the pandemic but you were just lonely. Besides, Cam left you a year ago and the quarantine was long over. It seemed the whole word had moved on except you.

You always got that fluttery feeling when you opened up the tab and typed in the address. You keyed in your username and password and that moment of shame and guilt quickly passed. Men did this all the time so what was the big deal? You had the money and time to waste on the shallow release.

You scrolled through the active rooms and found ‘SuitNTie80’. There were a few times you tried other rooms but you quickly left, always keeping to your comfort zone, not that you were ever very comfortable. There was that shadow of guilt that lingered after but you learned to live with it.

You sat up and leaned on your arm as you watched the window load and the chat popped up first on the side. You were desensitized to the image of the naked body, the large hand around the thick shaft, stroking and teasing as he issued intoxicating groans. You piled your pillows behind you and bent your legs as you watched lazily.

You were mostly quiet but you were there at least twice a week. You didn’t have much to say in the text box and the thought of a private voice chat was too intimidating for the price. You sent your donations and went on your way once you got yours.

You tickled your leg as your eyes clung to the hair along his muscled chest and stomach, his thick thighs bent and bulging as he gripped his dick firmly. He was huge, not that you were ever a size queen, but it was a nice escape, a careless fantasy. It wasn’t hurting anyone to look.

You hummed and reached for your vibe. You leaned back and teased your clit. You got wetter as he moved around and the bold yellow font popped up in the chat box. You hit ‘pay’ and bypassed the tier. The chat dwindled and the muscular body laid back so that his dick stood straight. He continued to play with himself as he pushed his head into the pillow.

You grabbed your dildo and angled it down along your folds. You poked and prodded until you slipped inside just a little. You pulled back and pushed back in until you could take most of it, the vibe still buzzing against your bud.

Another paywall popped up and again you hit the big button and confirmed. You kept the transactions on your credit card and didn’t think much until the statement showed up. Again, the audience dwindled. It was Wednesday, there weren’t as many as the weekends.

You got comfortable again and pumped the toy as you rubbed the stimulator against your clit. You bit your lip and whined, close. The deep voice stopped you.

“Looks like it's just you,” he said as he sat on the edge of the bed and kept his hand moving.

You typed a hey into the chat and sent another tip. He smiled, only the bottom half of his face visible, the trimmed beard defined his already sharp jaw. You fell back again as you tried to focus on his hand.

“You’re here a lot, honey,” he purred and rasped as he rolled his palm around his tip, “every week…”

You froze and sat up stiffly, careful not to push the toy deeper.

“You don’t have to be shy,” he cooed, “we can go into a private room.”

You didn’t know what to say. You just wanted to cum and lay down. Forget about another long day back in the office.

“No charge,” he offered, “I’d just like to hear your voice.”

Your fingers tapped noisily over the whir of the toy, ‘why?’

“You’re my most loyal customer,” he slowed his hand, “just curious.”

You just sat there, your heart pounding. You liked not being seen, just watching quietly, just being there in the audience. You were embarrassed he even noticed the frequency of your attendance. You eased the toy out of you as you leaned an arm on your leg. You hovered the cursor over the leave icon.

The invited for a private room popped up and kept you from clicking, “just a few minutes, honey, I’m almost done and I wanna help you finish.”

You bit the inside of your lip and dragged your finger down the trackpad. You hit ‘accept’ and a pop-out window buffered as it requested access to your microphone. You could mute once you were in. You confirmed and the private room loaded. You maximized it and drew your hand back sharply, already regretting the decision.

“How are you doing, honey?” he asked, “anyway you want me?”

You stared at the screen, overwhelmed by the spontaneity and your natural shyness.

“I hear your toy,” he said softly, “why don’t you tell me what you’re playing with?”

You gulped and the mattress spring squeaked as you shifted, “um, I’m okay,” you answered his first question, “how are you?”

“I’m great,” he pushed the camera back and sat so that you could see all of him, “it’s nice to hear the voice behind the name.” His teeth grazed his lip as his muscles tensed and he groaned, “so what do we got, hmm?”

“Er,” you looked down, the toy buzzing against your thigh as you’d let it slip thoughtlessly, “a vibe and... “

“And…” he coaxed, “what else, honey?”

“Um, a dildo?” you said weakly, “erm, yeah.”

“Is it inside you?” he asked.

You choked and tried to smother it. You sniffed and clicked off the toy. “Sorry, I don’t think--”

“I want it inside you, now,” he said firmly as he stroked himself, “I want you to imagine it’s me, that i’m stretching you.”

You gaped at the screen as he watched you expectantly, almost as if he could see you. You always kept your camera covered though so at least he could only hear how clueless you were.

“Turn the vibe back on and put that dick inside of you,” he snarled, “come on, honey, for me.”

“I…” you breathed, “okay…”

You shakily hit the button so it vibed again. You asked yourself what you were doing as you slipped it down against your clit and pushed the dildo into you before it could slip out completely. You squeaked and he growled as his hand sped up.

“Mmm, is it in?” he asked, “all of it?”

“Y-yeah,” you murmured, “as much as… I can.”

You cringed at your own answer and he grinned.

“Oh, you’re tight?” he teased, “sounds like you need to be broken in.” You let out a breath as you sat unmoving, filled but paralysed by the intimacy of the chat, “go on, I wanna hear you, honey. I can’t finish if I can’t hear you.”

You hesitated but laid back against the mountain of pillows. You rolled the vibe flat to your clit and moved the dildo slowly. You quivered as the ripples flowed through you and made your toes curl, your legs splayed wide around your laptop. You can hear how wet you are as instinctively you move the toy faster and moan.

“That’s it, honey,” he cooed, “listen to you, hmm? So we for me…” his voice was a series of gasps as he added lube to his length and sped up, “how close are you?”

“C-close,” you rasped.

“Good, good,” his knuckles turned white as he worked his hand even faster, “I want you to picture me… balls deep… fucking you until your hips hurt… until you can’t walk…”

You let out a pathetic mewl as you fucked yourself harder with the toy, to the point of pain.

“What’s you’re favourite position, honey?” he asked as he used both hands on himself.

“Oh, uh…” you shuddered as you thought, trying to keep the toys in action, “doggy… I think.”

“Mmm, wouldn’t you like me behind you, pounding into that tight little cunt,” he puffed, “I can only imagine how tight you’d squeeze me… the way you’d shake… you think you could take it? Hmm?”

“Y… y… yes,” your voice fizzled out and you let out a strained cry as you came abruptly.

You panted wildly and turned onto your side as you squeezed both toys between your legs and groaned. A grunt brought your attention back to the screen as you twitched. The man cradled his sack as he came and strings spilled from his tip as his voice rumbled from the speakers. He smeared his cum all down his length until he was a mess and let his shoulders fall as he stilled his hand.

“Was that good, honey?” he asked as he looked into the camera.

“Mhmm,” you uttered as you sat up and slid the dildo out, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Yeah, it was, wasn’t it?” he stood and came closer to the camera, bending so that you could see his face clearly, he was startlingly handsome, “can we do it again?”

“I… don’t know,” you replied as you turned off the vibe and covered yourself as if he could see you, “maybe.”

“You did really well, sweetie,” he smiled, “and I really like your voice.”

“I…” you sniffed and swallowed as you glanced around your dark bedroom. Is this what you’d come to? “I gotta go.”

You hit ‘leave’ and immediately felt awful. As much for leaving him hanging as even indulging in the chat. You rubbed your temples and bent your fingers against your skull as you gripped your head. How sad could your existence be?

📷

The disconnect icon came up and Andy sighed. He closed down the chat and logged out. He sat and cleaned himself, gently as he was overly sensitive from over an hour of stimulation. He enjoyed his little sessions and he made a decent penny, not that he really needed the money. It was more the high than the dollar sign.

He pulled on a loose pair of silk pajama pants and the fabric tickled his tip cloyingly. He closed the lid of his laptop and tidied the room, stripping the bed and putting the plain cotton sheets back on. He sat heavily to catch his breath and leaned back on the heels of his hands.

He always saw her username in the chat when she entered and tipped but she never said anything. He didn’t think much of it, she was just another regular. LacyLilac; it was a cute name. He was just bored and wanted to try something new. It was fun and thrilling and just the sound of her wet cunt made him twitch.

He kept thinking about her voice. He was disappointed she left so quickly. He would’ve liked to talk a little longer but it was just a porn chat after all. What more did they have to say to each other?

He tried to match her voice to a face in his head. She was probably cute; she sounded young. Well, lots of people were younger than him. He was probably one of the oldest cammers on the site. 

She was shy though and he liked that. He’d married the outspoken one and he was over it. That turned to shit fast and look where it got him. Alone and pimping himself out for kicks. Yeah, it was fun at first, he liked being watched, it was always a game for him. He used to play with himself at his desk in his office, sometimes the interns caught him but they never said anything. They were too afraid.

That was all gone too. That life was behind him, so far it almost felt like it never happened. He wished it never had; wished he hadn’t wasted the time.

He stood and sighed. He took his laptop from the table and slipped it under his arm. He went downstairs and opened it on the counter. He let the screen saver bounce as he grabbed a beer from the fridge. He popped the cap off with the edge of the granite and watched the little wisp of mist rise from the neck.

He tapped on the pad and scrolled through his activity log. He found her name and clicked on it. Her profile was mostly empty except for the profile pic, a stock photo of lilacs. He got nothing from scrolling up and down the blank fields. Well, he knew a few tricks the cops passed onto him back in the day.

He opened another tab and quickly generated the link. He went back to her profile and clicked the little speech bubble beside her username. He took a moment before he began to type.

‘Hey, honey, I had fun. I hope to see you again on Friday <3. My schedule’s changing soon, you can see it here.’ He attached the link and hit send. He took a swig of the hoppy beer and leaned an elbow on the counter. 

All she had to do was click that link, if she didn’t, he’d have to figure something else out. Or maybe just give up.

The computer chirped as a green dot appeared beside her name. She was online. He saw the little eye beside his message and the dots as she typed. She stopped and he waited. Nothing.

He clicked back to the other window and opened up the visitation log for the link. He smiled and took another deep gulp. She’d done it. She tried to use the link and now he could see everything; her IP, her location, her internet provider. It was just enough to work with.

Bing. He switched back over to the chat and finally her response hung beneath his in a bubble.

‘Thx. I’ll try. The link doesn’t work tho.’

He typed with one hand as he finished his beer in sips, ‘sorry, honey. I’ll fix that and send an updated link when I get a chance. Have a good night <3.’

‘Good night,’ she responded and the green dot disappeared.

He set aside his empty bottle and closed the laptop. He was hard again. It didn’t usually happen so soon after a session. It was why he spaced them out. But he was throbbing so violently that just standing straight made him groan.

He gripped the counter and shoved his hand down his pants. He closed his eyes and exhaled as he quaked at his own touch. He thought of her little ‘ums’ and ‘ers’ and the buzz of her toy. Such a shy little thing acting so innocent and yet she was always there, watching him. 

Fuck, it wouldn’t take much more. Not as he thought of how she couldn’t even fit the whole toy in her sweet cunt. He would help her with that. 

📷

The anomaly soon grew to a habit. The second meeting was just as awkward. You didn’t do private chats, it was just easier to fade into the background, but the third was easier. Despite how your nerves flurried and your hair stood on edge, he made you feel comfortable, made you relax as you neared the tipping point.

That night, you promised him you’d be in the chat but things always went to shit when you had plans. You were almost relieved as your after hours activities were starting to get in the way of your work. You found it hard to focus when he kept sending you messages that filled your burner email.

You sat before the blue-tinted hue of the monitor, your eyes watering as the colours seared into your retinas. The spreadsheet left a template in your vision and you saw the little boxes even as you leaned back and rubbed your eyes. Maybe another hour and you could go and forget about the colour-coded rectangles.

You sighed and took out your phone. You looked out at the pen of cubicles, your small office forgotten in the corner. You handled the numbers and those only mattered when someone needed a new chair or the holiday party was coming near, and those tasks were easier left to the interns.

You yawned and swiveled back and forth in your chair. The little envelope floated in the margin. You dragged down the status bar and hit the icon. Your inbox was filled with alerts to new messages on the chat site. You only had your shell email account attached to your phone and kept to incognito mode on your laptop.

Only Lucy was still around and she was having a loud phone call on speaker a few offices down. She basically lived at her desk and served as a harbinger of your future. You opened a private window and signed in. You went to your profile and checked the blinking message box.

‘Hey, starting soon.’

‘On live now!’

‘Where are you, honey?’

‘About to go private.’

The last message was a sad-looking emoji and you shook your head. This was why you needed to stop. It felt special at first to be noticed, to feel wanted even if you were just a money sign, but it was growing exhausting. You hardly even enjoyed it anymore, you were just there to get off and get it over with.

‘Srry, caught up at work. Not going to make it tn.’

You hit send and blacked out your phone. You went back to the lifeless excel columns and compared it with the garbled mess corrupted on the second monitor. You told Stuart over and over to eject it properly and didn’t understand how the file hadn’t been uploaded to the company cloud. You shuffled through your papers and shrugged it off. No use being angry, no one cared.

Your phone vibed again. You ignored it and kept typing, looking through reports by the month as you keyed in numbers. A year's worth of tracking all down the drain. Buzz, buzz, buzz. Your phone wouldn’t stop.

You opened up your phone and went back to the private window. ‘You couldn’t tell me earlier?’ ‘Hello?’ ‘What did I do, honey?’

The messages came close together and you looked over at the log. His chat had gone inactive; it was early. You were slightly addled and confused by that.

‘It’s work. I haven’t had a chance. Can’t talk. Logging off. See you Friday.’ You hit the arrow and excited the window. 

You dropped your phone face down and hung your head back in exasperation. Your guilty pleasure was becoming a second job. The guy had enough viewers, he could hardly be missing your wallet that much. It was starting to get weird and you weren’t so sure you were going to tune in that Friday, you might be better off to catch up on your sleep.

📷

You kept your laptop off on Friday and opted instead to catch up the latest episodes of your favourite trash tv. The week was long enough to have you dozing off by the second episode and you woke early on Saturday, feeling more groggy than refreshed. Even so, you had two days to yourself.

Two days to catch up with your personal life. You went to the kitchen and used the last of the coffee. And the cream. Time for a shop. Well, you could still make a fun day out of it. There was a café in the same plaza as the grocery store so you could stop in and pretend like you were enjoying your time off with whatever specialty flavour they offered that day.

You didn’t get out before noon as you dragged your feet. Your mind kept drifting to your claustrophobic office and the migraine-inducing spreadsheets. You tried not to, fought your own mind as you steered into the parking lot, but you knew you had another week of bullshit awaiting you.

You grabbed a cart and made your rounds of the aisles, sighing as you waited on octogenarians to decide on a grain of bread. You hurried to check-out before you could get caught behind another dawdler and paid, piling your goods in your cart impatiently. You rolled out the lot and filled your trunk, pushing the cart back to the receptacle with the rest.

You hit the lock button on your keys and headed to the cafe. You eyed the strawberry and cream latte on the board as you stood in line. A deep voice drew your attention from the menu and your heart stuttered as you looked at the man at the till. It couldn’t be.

You got a better look at his face as he eyed the desserts in the glass case and pointed to the one he wanted. How in the fuck? The world couldn’t be that small. You tucked your chin down as your cheeks burned. You could only think about the image of him, or really his more intimate parts, and his low moans.

He swiped his card and moved along the counter. You stood frozen, not moving until the person behind you told you it was your turn. You apologized and moved up to the till. You stammered out your order and fumbled with your wallet, keeping your head down as you paid.

You kept your distance as you moved to wait in the corner until your turn at the window was called. You stared at the floor and tried to dissipate into the air as you pondered just leaving without your drink. When your name rang in your ears, you stepped up without look and collided with another.

“Oh, sorry,” the familiar voice made your eyes round, “shoot.”

You winced and pulled your shirt away from your chest as the hot coffee seeped down your front. You shook out the fabric and shook your head.

“It’s fine, I-- I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you dared to look up at him, unsurprised by your luck, “I hope I didn’t, er, spill too much.”

“I’m more worried about burning you,” he said, “you sure you’re alright?”

“Fine,” you repeated curtly and stepped around him, “really.”

You grabbed the paper cup and spilled even more hot liquid onto your fingers in your urgency. When you turned back the man was just ahead of you and he waited as he held the door for you. You ducked your head down as you passed him and thanked him with a mumble.

“No problem,” he said as he dropped the door.

You stepped off the curb and almost tripped. You didn’t look back as you rushed over to your car and searched for your keys in your pockets. You hit the button and quickly opened the door and flopped into the seat, placing your cup in the holder as more foam and espresso spilled from under the lid.

You hung your head back and sighed. You cringed and wanted to scream. You gripped the steering wheel and shook the whole car in your tantrum. As if your life couldn’t get worse. You were just one disaster after the other.

You wiped your hand on your jeans and started the car. Oh well, a forgettable slip-up. You wouldn’t remember it next week and he likely wouldn’t either. He didn’t even know who you were. Didn’t know you were one of the perverts watching him on their screen as they sat in the dark, lonely and desperate.

You pulled out of your spot and steered between the rows as you neared the exit. Fuck, you thought to yourself, you probably paid for that coffee. Ugh, why were you doing this to yourself? Making yourself feel worse and for what? He put himself on the internet, you were just supporting him.

“Just shut up,” you said to your inner voice as you turned out into traffic, “just stop.”

[creweemmaeec11]

Villain X Hero Writing Prompt- Today is the Villain's birthday but due to a bad memory accosiated with it (and because the villain is kinda lonely) they dont celebrate. The villain has a battle with the hero with the hero merging victorious, kidnapping the villain. The villain thinks they've been kidnapped for information however the hero made made dinner and got a meaningful gift for the villain. Have fun with this prompt!

I love this concept. Villains being surprised with pleasantries is everything♡ I know I didn't quite get to the present part, but it felt like the right place to cut it off. I also just realized I kinda forgot about the "for information" part, oops. also I'm so sorry this took so long!

As if their day couldn't suck any more than it already did, the villain had to go and top it off with losing in a fight with the city's hero.

Could this day get *any* worse?

They were handcuffed in the back of the hero's police car, driving through the city, towards the city jail, just like they had so many times before.

The villain had escaped jail multiple times, so this wasn't much more than a large inconvenience for them, at least it would have been, had it happened on *any* other day.

The criminal in question had gone out to avoid sitting at home alone with their thoughts today. Having to sit alone with their thoughts in a jail cell was an even worse option.

Letting out a deep sigh, they flopped back against the seat. Miserable. They just felt miserable. It felt like they couldn't even see colour in the world around them anymore.

"You're much quieter than usual," the hero commented as they drove, "Is something wrong?

"Excuse me‽"

"You're usually more talkative. These drives have never been this quiet before,"

"What do you care?" The villain muttered as they turned to look out the window.

That's when the villain suddenly realized something.

"Wait, we aren't going the right way," the villain blurted out, sitting up straighter suddenly.

The hero in the front seat gave a laugh under their breath, "you only just noticed?"

"This isn't the way to the station or city jail,"

"That would be because we aren't going to the station or city jail,"

The villain felt their throat tighten.

"Where are we going?" The villain asked, trying and failing to sound demanding. There were notes of slight fear. Nerves.

In the rearview mirror, the villain saw the hero glance at them, before their gaze fell back to the road ahead.

They didn't say anything.

"Hero..." the villain tried, "Where are you taking me...?"

"You'll see," was the hummed response.

A feeling of dread settled in their stomach.

Looking out the window, the car was already on the outskirts of the city.

Suddenly the radio was flicked on.

The villain swallowed nervously.

What a day to go out on, of all the 365 to choose from in a year.

After driving for close to half an hour, they were well outside the city and into the surrounding woods, pulling up to what looked like a small cabin.

It wasn't that the villain exactly *blamed* the hero for what they were about to do. Clearly, they'd pushed the other too far, or maybe the hero had finally grown tired of their game of cat and mouse.

This just wasn't how the villain imagined themselves leaving this mortal coil. It was always in a blaze of glory, last stand type of thing.

Still, they couldn't find it in themselves to fight back. Not today. Perhaps it was fate, to be taken out on the same day it all began. Poetic, if not ironic.

The hero got out of the car, straightening themselves and stretching for a moment before turning and opening the back door.

"Are you coming?" The hero asked, before surprisingly taking a step back away from the door so the villain could get out on their own. Not like it mattered, the hero probably knew there was nowhere to run out here now.

"Do I have a choice?" The villain muttered under their breath, looking at the ground.

The hero had the *audacity* to look *surprised* at that. As if they were shocked the villain wasn't jumping with excitement to get this over with.

"Well, I mean... no... I guess... I'd like to think I'm not forcing you but..."

The villain sighed, before swinging their feet out and standing up. Luckily, they'd been cuffed in the front this time, which- now that they thought about it, was also abnormal- but it made it easier to get out of the car on their own.

Still, they felt the hero put a hand under their arm to help steady them -as if polite bedside manner would change anything, only for the villain to shrug them off.

"I'm assuming there's nothing I can say to talk you *out* of doing this, is there?"

"What?" The hero asked in confusion, "What are you talking about?"

"Ya know, pull the whole 'you don't have to do this, I'll be better, I swear' kind of thing?"

"Excuse me-?"

"I mean-" the villain continued. They were rambling now. Maybe the fear was finally fully starting to kick in. The desperation, because they really *didn't* want this. There was no way they'd allow themselves to beg, but- "it would be a lie either way, I guess, despite the fact I probably shouldn't have said that I'm assuming you'd already know anyway, so-"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down," the hero said, placing a hand on the villain's shoulder gently, snapping them out of their spiralling thoughts, "What in the world do you think I brought you out here for?"

The villain rolled their eyes, "At least make it quick, will you? And stop acting oblivious or like I forced your hand. At least own up to what your about to do,"

The other's eyes widened as the final piece clicked into place, "You think-! I'm not gonna kill you-!" They cried in what could have been mistaken for horror.

The criminal furrowed their brows.

"I brought you here to *show* you something, silly!" The hero explained, before stepping forward and unclipping the handcuffs off the villain's wrists.

Said villain's eyes widened, "what‽"

The hero nodded, smiling, "I have a surprise for you,"

"What?!" They asked again.

The hero only nodded excitedly before turning the villain by the shoulders and giving them a gentle push towards the door, "Go on! Look inside!"

The villain glanced at the hero uncertainty before stepping forward toward the cabin.

When they opened the door, they froze on the spot.

It wasn't anything crazy.... the inside looked like any other cabin. Table, chairs, small kitchen and living area with a couch and tv. Warm glowing lights and-

A banner hung from the ceiling that read in large letters "HAPPY BIRTHDAY"

The villain spun around so fast they nearly gave themself whiplash, turning to the hero that had sense come up behind them.

They jumped back slightly, words and air catching in their throat as they gawked at the hero like they'd grown 3 more heads.

Said hero laughed lightheartedly, "Surprise!"

"What..."

It was like that had become the only word in their vocabulary.

"I know it isn't decorated much, but I didn't think you'd like the cliche ribbons and streamers and party hats," they made some jazzhand-like gesture, "I was also going to blindfold you but I didn't think you'd let me do that either,"

The villain could only stare, like their brain couldn't process the words they were hearing.

"I also made dinner, and a cake! Oh! I also have a gift for you too!"

The villain didn't move.

"Oh, and one last thing, I gave up and the fun cliche stuff just for you so I'm gonna make you suck it up and accept a birthday hug,"

"Why..." the villain managed, "why would you..."

"Why not?"

"I don't deserve this, I don't-" their voice cracked.

"Hey," the hero said softly, taking a step forward, "I heard you didn't celebrate, and I couldn't just let that happen. Everyone deserves to have a good birthday,"

The villain couldn't find any words, but the single tear that managed to quickly slip out and down their cheek did all the speaking for them.

The hero gave a small, sympathetic smile before opening their arms.

Nobody moved for a moment, before the villain caved, stepping forward and looking at the ground. They didn't reciprocate, keeping their own arms close to their chest, but allowed the hero to wrap theirs around them.

They'd never realized just how much taller the hero was until they were basically burying their face into the heros collar.

The villain couldn't even bring themselves to care at the moment, because they suddenly felt so safe, which was bizarre, considering how they felt on the way, but here they were.

"I still don't think I deserve this. Especially from you," the villain muttered from where their head was still tucked down against the hero's chest.

"I don't think your qualified for that kind of thinking, considering what you thought you deserved on the way here, which I'm almost offended by, by the way,"

The hero was rewarded with a small laugh.

"So, come on," the hero said before suddenly pulling back. They reached up, gently using their thumb to brush away the tear track on the villains face, "no tears," They reached down, grabbing the villains hand to gently tug them further inside "let's make some better birthday memories,"

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[demonslayedher]

How Does Eating Humans Work?

Hello, Gotou here. We’re shamelessly borrowing from the format of a KnY Fanbook #2 comic to launch an investigation into demon metabolism and development by crossing the Sanzu River again to interview demons in the underworld. While we’ll be using canon materials as a base, the analysis and conjecture herein is personal, so we ask for your understanding. Also, please note that consuming any food in the underworld will make you unable to return, and we cannot promise your safety even though the interview subjects are dead, so please come along at your own risk.

Some of the questions we’d like to answer are, why do demons need to eat humans? How much do they need to eat to survive? Are there factors that influence how eating humans makes them stronger? If they don’t want to kill humans, what are their other options? We’ve rounded up some special guests below the cut (hidden for length and grossness), everyone from the lowly Temple Demon to the lovely Tamayo, to see what their actions in canon might tell us.

First, a review of what canon tells us, mostly as summarized in Fanbook #2: 1. With one exception named Yushirou, all demons were created by Kibutsuji Muzan, for his own purposes. They all have some amount of his blood, and can be divided into four classes depending on how powerful they are. From top to bottom, the Upper Moons, the Lower Moons, demons with special abilities, and other demons without any special characteristics. 2. Demons may be stronger depending on how much of Kibutsuji Muzan’s blood they have. Most beings’ cannot handle a large amount of his blood, and it will rupture the cells and that being will die, but there are demons who adapt well to it. 3. Typically, sunlight is the only way to kill a demon, by either bathing them in sunlight or cutting of their head with a Nichirin blade. However, there are powerful demons for whom chopping off their head does not work, and if it’s strong enough, demons can also be killed by wisteria poison.

4. Demons eat human blood and flesh. The more they eat, the stronger they become, and the faster their regenerative abilities become. Some humans have “Marechi,” a rare blood type, which is especially nutritious to demons, and eating one Marechi is the equivalent of eating several humans.

That’s an interesting thing we’d like to come back to, especially since we’re looking for quantitative information about how demons gain nutrition (though I have my doubts we'll get enough for statistical analysis). As an interesting note, Fanbook #2 also tells us that if demons try to consume the same edibles humans do, they’ll vomit it back up.

I’m told that Miss Tamayo drinks tea, though. That’ll be an interesting question for later. In my notes, it seems she’s also explained to Tanjirou back in Chapter 15 that demons will normally go berserk if they go a long time without consuming any blood or flesh. Berserk is one thing, but I wonder if they can starve to death? We’ll see if these canon clues will lead us to anything. We’ll begin now in an interview format. Hopefully this will go smoothly, but I’ve got a feeling it won’t. First up, we’ve the Temple Demon.

Temple: Who were you calling ‘lowly’ just now? Up there, above the cut?

Gotou: That was in a literal sense, not having Blood Techniques means you’re in the bottom common tier of demons.

Temple: Argh. Fine. What do you want to know?

Gotou: In Chapter 2, you were spotted with three human victims. However, it seems you left their bodies mostly intact and only ate small parts instead of consuming one full human at a time. Could you comment on this?

Temple: I’d have gotten to more later if that whelp with the strong legs didn’t interrupt me! Who’s got time to eat entire humans anyway? I went for the easy stuff first.

Gotou: I see. It appears you might had focused on key organs, like the heart and the liver. Would you say these are especially nutritionally dense?

Temple: I guess. If I’m going to eat humans, I’m going to start with what’s worth bothering to digest. Blood’s easier on the stomach, so that’s what I was busy with on the lady there.

Gotou: Then it takes effort to digest? Hmm. Let’s come back to this later. How many humans would you say you consumed, including these three?

Temple: Not a lot… I tried to get a variety so I could get stronger faster, but…

Gotou: I’ll put down a guess as ten or less. Let’s move on to someone who has a sharper memory for numbers. One of our longer-lived guests at Mt. Fujikasane for 47 years, the Hand Demon. While most of the demons on the mountain had only eaten two or three humans, you’ve eaten a whole 50 of the children who headed into the Final Selection, didn’t you?

Hand: Yes, that’s right. It was hard at first since I wasn’t very strong, and the demons usually all went crazy there eating each other, just like that one brat who got away in Chapter 7 said. If you could manage to kill any of the kids, you had the other demons to fight off to even get a piece to yourself. That was enough to get me by, and stronger, little by little. Your body learns to make your meals last, and make the most of what you can get. I usually only had a bite of one child a year, can you imagine how horrible that was? Most demons who survive usually figure out some way to develop and survive better, and once my cells found something that worked for me, I kept doing it. I got really good at snatching away prey from other demons, and soon enough I was a bigger threat than any of them. None of them could, you might say, lay a hand on me.

Gotou: That’s an interesting point about self-development. A demon named Nezuko was spent two years doing that in her sleep.

Hand: She must have had a big meal before that!

Gotou: Well, anyway. It seems that in near starving conditions, your metabolism made the most of what you had, leading to the most efficient use of whatever food was available to you.

Hand: That’s right, I got really good at it. Wasn’t always pretty, but I made it work. I got to a point where I could go two years without eating and still keep my wits about me while the other demons were going mad. But I chose to eat. I liked to keep my appetite for specific children.

Gotou: That smile is not reassuring. Some humans taste better than others, I guess?

Hand: That’s for sure. This one kid tasted awful, like rust and man sweat! I still don’t have that disgusting taste out of my mouth! But he was one of my more satisfying meals, so I ate more of him.

Gotou: Then why would you… nevermind, I don’t like that smile, no further questions. While I had hoped to keep these interviews focused on quantities of humans consumed, it does seem personal taste is worth asking about. I had tried to invite a Swamp Demon from Chapter 11, but it kept arguing with itself and it felt like I’d be wasting my time. The one definite thing I learned was that this demon is picky, with a distinct preference for 16-year-old girls. Based on the number of trinkets he kept, it seems he had consumed at least seventeen of them, including several in one town. Sheesh, that’s sort of a rough mission to send a first-timer on. I’ve got a more cooperative guest here to discuss her tastes, a Snake Demon who, according to Chapter 188, has a special taste for baby flesh.

Snake: Thank you for having me here. It’s good to be appreciated again.

Gotou: Did you only eat babies?

Snake: Goodness, no. Babies are delicious, but they aren’t very nutritious. And their skulls certainly aren’t that big, the ones I lounged around with were from the people whom I killed and stole from. But you know the nice thing about baby skulls? They’re still soft. They take a long time to digest, but I can swallow them whole.

Gotou: Like… like a snake, then. Sorry, I’m a little ill hearing that. Let’s back up, were all those skulls the remains of adults you ate, then?

Snake: Meh, I ate some of them of better-looking ones, but most of them I only killed. I could usually kill a lot more at a time than I could bother eating, my killing record was fifty women all at once.

Gotou: And you didn’t find that wasteful?

Snake: Wasteful? Not at all. I wasn’t exactly in dire straits, I lived a more luxurious life than most demons do. That meant I could afford to wait for a truly delicious meal, like how you humans might leave something in a slow-cooker to enjoy the perfect combination of doneness and tenderness, plated in the most appetizing of ways.

Gotou: I guess demons and humans are similar in that regard.

Snake: I’m so glad you can relate! Then you understand the frustration of a meal you’ve be preparing for years opening up the slow-cooker and running away right when they were just about done.

Gotou: I have never had that experience.

Snake: I’ll get you, my pretty. And your little snake, too.

Gotou: I think we might have gotten a little off-topic here. It does seem digesting humans comes with some difficulty. I’d like to invite the Drum Demon in next. Your name is Kyougai, I hear?

Kyougai: !!

Gotou: Kyogai, right?

Kyougai: You’ve heard of me! You know my name!

Gotou: I happened to, yes.

Kyougai: What have you heard???

Gotou: That you were kicked out of the Lower Moons for being unable to consume enough humans.

Kyougai: Oh. ……..yeah, that’s me.

Gotou: I thought demons go berserk if they go a long time without consuming humans. Wouldn’t that make an inability to consume them problematic?

Kyougai: It wasn’t that I couldn’t eat them! Like I said in Chapter 24, I had to in order to sustain myself, just like any other demon. But, at some point, I couldn’t eat as much as I used to. That happens to humans too, doesn’t it? When you just can’t stomach anymore?

Gotou: You mean like when you’ve overeaten? In a human’s case that feeling may go away within a few hours.

Kyougai: Sort of like that, but you know, humans reach a time when nothing is appetizing or the thought of eating makes them feel sick, right? Isn’t that the human condition?

Gotou: …uh… maybe if they have a medical condition? Or anxiety? Do demons get anxiety? Or eating disorders?

Kyougai: I… I don’t know. I just wasn’t good enough.

Gotou: I think it’s plenty good if you stopped eating humans. Though to have developed Blood Techniques and been a Lower Moon in the first place, you must had eaten a great number of them.

Kyougai: You think I’m great?

Gotou: What?

Kyougai: No, sorry, I was getting ahead of myself. It’s true, I used to be able to eat as many as the other Lower Moons always consumed. Our stomachs were stronger, you might say. Demons got strong by eating humans, and then the more you did that the better you usually got at it, so the strong ones would eat more and more and keep getting stronger and stronger. At least, that’s how it usually worked. I’ve seen other demons below me reached that point too, where they feel the drive to eat, but then they have trouble digesting it for a long time, so they don’t wind up eating that many people.

Gotou: Then it would make sense to eat the most nutritionally dense parts first.

Kyougai: Or a Marechi.

Gotou: Yes, or a Marechi.

Kyougai: It was a great idea, wasn’t it?

Gotou: I cannot condone any consumption of humans as a good idea.

Kyougai: I knew it. I’m nothing. Go ahead, stomp all over everything I ever tried to accomplish.

Gotou: I think I’m going to move on to my next interviewee now. It looks like we’ve got… oh, would you look at this? Lower Moon One. Enmu, I believe.

Enmu: You can believe whatever you want. I’m happy to help.

Gotou: I don’t need any help, thanks. I’m curious, since you were one of the stronger demons out there, it seems you had a stronger capacity for consuming humans.

Enmu: I did, I was always careful and paced myself so the Demon Slayers wouldn’t notice me. I took my time. I liked to enjoy e-e-e-a-c-h one.

Gotou: Then you had tastes too? Like babies, or 16-year-old girls?

Enmu: I could season any human to my liking. They’re all very easy to prepare.

Gotou: I’m still trying to get quantitative data. Can you tell me at least a rough estimate of how many humans you consumed?

Enmu: I told this more precisely to that boy with the earrings back in Chapter 59, and I can tell you this too. At my best, I could had eaten over two-hundred people at once if I took my time.

Gotou: OH MY GAW----sorry, I dropped my pen. Two hundred, at once?

Enmu: Yes. If I had just. Had. A little. More. Time.

Gotou: Clearly there is a huge difference between what common demons are capable of and what the Twelve Moons are capable of.

Daki: Psh, those were all any random common people. That’s nothing to brag about.

Gotou: Excuse me, and you are?

Daki: Daki, Upper Moon Six. You want something really impressive, you talk to the Upper Moons.

Gotou: I’m sorry, I don’t see you on my list.

Daki: What! Your list is stupid. Look me in the eyes, I’m Upper Moon Six!

Gotou: Very well, then. What can you tell me about your diet, Miss Upper Moon Six?

Daki: That’s more like it. It’s true that digestion takes a while, and takes some effort. Even though we Upper Moons may have eaten hundreds of people in our lifetimes, it’s not as if we gorge ourselves. The clever ones among us save prey for later to eat when we feel ready for it.

Gotou: Food storage? How do you keep them fresh?

Daki: You leave them still alive, numbskull. Nobody wants to eat something cold, that’s gross.

Gotou: I see, so that’s why demons prefer to go after new kills instead of saving what they’ve already managed to kill. That also might explain why the demons on Mt. Fujikasane wouldn’t had eaten many humans, if they found long dead ones in edible.

Daki: You want to know the real secret to eating humans? You can eat what you find tastes good, sure. But to get stronger, you eat strong people. Like your Corp members, the ones besides chumps like you? Using all that Breath makes their muscles really lean and potent, it’s like they come offering themselves as protein bars for us.

Gotou: You make them sound like a fad diet…

Daki: The real secret is eating Pillars. Besides Marechi, they’re the strongest meals out there. Guess how many I’ve eaten?

Gotou: I don’t have the data to make an educated guess.

Daki: Then get educated! Look back at Chapter 88! I’ve eaten seven Pillars, and my brother has eaten fifteen!

Gotou: Your brother? Who is he, then, Upper Moon Five?

Daki: What? Ew. Gross. Gross! No way, ew!

Gotou: Hmm… eating Pillars, huh? Well, I can think of one Pillar who was…

Douma: Me too!

Gotou: Speak of the devil.

Douma: Actually, we Upper Moons can! And he's not Satan, that's not how this works. But I guess Muzan-sama’s curse doesn’t effect us now. Ask me anything you want!

Gotou: That Chapter 143 reference was such a rude entrance. I understand that Pillars are particularly nutritious—

Douma: Oh, please don’t misunderstand! I don’t even eat all the Pillars I’ve encountered. There was the one Flower Pillar who got away from me, but some of the boy pillars I just leave around. What’s really the key to consistent nutritional intake is women! It’s really unhealthy for a demon not to get enough women in their diet, that’s why even if you’re only looking for Marechi or Pillars, your metabolism is going to get thrown out of whack with sudden big meals. You grow a stronger metabolism with consistency, I believe!

Gotou: If I could stop you there, I had an image from Chapter 142 I preferred to focus on for this case study. I see you keep a wide collection of skulls, from victims whom I assume you ate.

Douma: Yes, they all stayed together inside me for eternity, but the room looked lonely without décor.

Gotou: It seems other demons usually go for nutritionally dense organs like hearts or livers, or easy to digest parts of the body, perhaps just blood sometimes. Eating the entire victim, bones and all, doesn’t seem to be the norm.

Douma: Bones are organs too, you know! That’s where blood is made, at its freshest. They do take more practice in learning to digest, and I had to find a way around not having to chew them, but the bone marrow is very, very good for you, so I make sure to consume it frequently. It may take more time and it causes some of my followers to panic more while they wait, though, that’s a bit of a downside. Oh, and I guess bones can make good storage for some sneaky poison. Even fingernails and hair follicles, who’d have thought?

Gotou: I don’t think hair would have much nutritional value in the first place. In all my years, I can never recall seeing a victim with their hair eaten.

Douma: Tsk, tsk! Clearly you haven’t done much metabolism research in advance. I was really impressed by how well Shinobu-chan understood how my digestion would work. Eating hair can do amazing things! Isn’t that right, Genya-kun?

Genya: ?????????

Gotou: Genya-kun!?

Genya: What am I doing here?

Gotou: I don’t think you’re supposed to be here. Isn’t there, you know, another side? The other direction?

Genya: What are you doing here? Did you die?

Gotou: I’m here doing research on demon metabolism and how they get stronger by consuming flesh.

Douma: What can you tell us about what up with having your friend feed you hair you found on the floor in Chapters 170-171, Genya-kun?

Genya: I’m not a demon!! Why the hell are you asking me?

Douma: ‘Hell’! Haha, good one!

Gotou: How do you even know about that? You were dead almost a full volume before that. And Genya’s different, he’s not a case study in how demons consuming humans works!

Douma: Are you certain?

Gotou: I hear the term get thrown around a lot that he’s ‘half-demon’, but—

Genya: I’m not a demon!!!

Gotou: --how would that even work? That would imply that one of his parents had to be a demon, and that—

Genya: What did you say about my mother!?!

Gotou: What? Nothing—

Genya: You say that to my face! You just trying saying something about my mother to my face! My mother never actually ate any flesh, you got that? She doesn’t deserve any of this!

Gotou: Genya, calm down, what—

Douma: I see we’re learning nothing about hair at all. Maybe Kokushibou-dono would provide better commentary on that?

Genya: Mom? Mo-o-o-o-m? Are you down here somewhere?

Gotou: And there he goes… wait, did you say Kokushibou? Upper Moon One? Oh no—he—he didn’t want me bothering him, he did not agree to another interview—

Douma: He-e-e-e-e-y, Kokushibou-dono! How did that work with Genya-kun eating your hair? Hair can be nutritious, right?

Kokushibou: You would gain… nothing… from consuming human hair… it’s not… flesh… you wasted your energy digesting it…

Douma: Aww, cutting it off them would had been sad, though.

Kokushibou: Demon hair… like demon weapons… is made… from our unique cells. It’s not dead… like human locks. Because that boy ate my live cells… it affected him…

Gotou: Yes, because he had a very, very unique metabolism, analyzed separately in this post. To be perfectly clear, Genya is completely human with cells that could temporarily transform, and he never consumed human flesh.

Kokushibou: He… vexes me…

Gotou: Um… while I’ve got you here, you’re one of the longest lived demons, clocking in at over three, maybe four centuries. Do you have any estimate of how many humans you’ve consumed?

Kokushibou: ……I see in… Chapter 100… that you are 23 years old?

Gotou: That is correct.

Kokushibou: Do you bother… remembering how many meals… you’ve had in a mere 23 years?

Gotou: I’m very sorry to have bothered you.

Douma: Kokushibou-dono’s ancient compared to the rest of us! But if I tried, I could probably recall. Let’s see. One, two, three, four…

Gotou: Is that? Your finger in your brain? Oh—ohhh—that is disgusting---I really don’t need to know numbers that badly, please stop. Is there maybe just some average you can give me for the Upper Moons instead? Like how many you’d eat in a month?

Douma: I wish I could, but a certain someone was an annoying outlier and didn’t like to eat so many humans. He made me worry all the time about his health.

Gotou: Really? Who might that be?

Douma: Hello-o-o-o-o-? Akaza-dono? Yoohoo! He spends all his time with his wife now and never answers when I call, it makes me so sad. Akaza-dono did eat humans, plenty of strong ones, but any time he wasn’t under orders from Muzan he liked to spend his time training instead of eating. Fanbook #1 says he did that way more than eating!

Gotou: Training? What sort of training?

Douma: Similar things to what your Corp members did, I imagine. Doing squats, throwing punches, things like that.

Gotou: Then demon muscles had similar function to human muscles, and could be strengthened through hard work? That’s surprising.

Douma: I know, right? I’ll let you in on a secret, I don’t think it was the physically repetition that did anything. I think it was his willpower getting honed and shaping his muscles.

Douma: I had to focus when I acquired new skills too, like breaking down poisons. A lot of sad, lowly demons, like that Hand Demon fellow? They focus as hard as they can in their desperation, or focus on some strong emotion or attachment or whatever, and they grow and develop because of it. Sometimes all their weak bodies can manage is an ugly mutation, but that’s proof enough of how much focus they had.

Gotou: That sheds a lot of light on Nezuko, actually.

Douma: Shed “light” on Nezuko-chan, hahaha! Sunlight! You humans are all so witty!

Gotou: Speaking of willpower, I’ve got one more interview I need to get to down here. Of all the demons I have records of, only Nezuko went her whole time as a demon without consuming any human flesh, although she did go through moments of berserk cravings for it. It’s possible that other demons were killed before they could consume anything, but typically they will consume flesh as soon as possible, which is why its common for their family and close relations to be among the first ones killed. Tomioka-san even mentioned in Chapter 1 that these close relations are especially nutritious.

Gotou: A demon about as old as Kokushibou, if not older, is a special case of her own. She was one of the only demons we know of to have escaped Kibutsuji’s curse and acted in dependently of him, including having created a demon of her own after two hundred years of trying. Most notably to our purposes, she trained herself to subsist on small amounts of blood, after having survived on corpses and wild animals for a time, according to the extensive Taisho Secrets at the end of Volume 21.

Tamayo: I explained this in more detail to Tanjirou-san in Chapter 15, but I went on to purchase blood from poor people, and extracted it in ways that wouldn’t be harmful to them. The one demon I created, Yushirou, could subsist on even less. I gained enough self-control that I could treat injured humans without feeling tempted into a berserk state.

Gotou: I was just talking to Douma about willpower making demons capable of accomplishing new physical developments. Was that how you were able to gain this state? I heard you even enjoy a cup of tea now and then.

Tamayo: Yes, I’ve taken a liking to it. I’d offer you some if not for this, you know, being hell. It’s nothing like the hell I went through when first resisting consuming humans, though. My demon body refused to take anything but fresh human flesh at first, but in the hardest moments, I always remembered a kind demon hunter who said he believed in me and my desire to defeat Kibutsuji Muzan. I believe Nezuko may have summoned her strength to resist the call of her demon cells in a similar way; she knew she had her brother there to rely on. Once she mastered something as remarkable as resisting the need for human flesh, it gave her the freedom to prioritize other developments.

Gotou: You spent centuries researching demon cells, especially how demons may break down and metabolize poisons.

Tamayo: I had not studied the metabolism of poisons until working with Shinobu-san. The medicine we concocted for Kibutsuji was only possible thanks to her work, and I couldn’t had worked with many of those wisteria-based substances on my own. I feel I was only there to fill in the gaps of her brilliant understanding.

Gotou: You’re very humble. I would pass along my thanks and compliments to Shinobu-sama too, but I’m pretty sure she’s not down here. On that note, did Genya-kun go back home?

Tamayo: He did after a nice reunion with his mother just now, it was very sweet. Shizu-san and I get along well, after all, we both carry similar guilt.

Gotou: Wait, was his mother a demon? That means Wind-sama’s mother was too? Wait?? What??

Tamayo: The worst hell I went through, or that any demon has gone through, is to realize what you’ve eaten after the hunger-driven madness clears. Being similar to your own cells, they’re easy on a volatile new anatomy to break down and digest. That’s why many demons may have driven themselves to forget everything all over again, or to twist their personalities to justify the horror, saying that because they ate the hearts of their loved ones and because demon flesh can live forever, then they never truly killed them. The truth always remained untwisted for me, and to this day, it torments me more than anything in this underworld can try.

Gotou: …

Tamayo: You should wake up now, Gotou. You’ve been through a lot; the nightmares must be taxing on your health. Please remember to eat well.