#word prompt: succulents

[wanderingmaskdragons]

succulent dragon

🪴

[mothwingwritings]

What Picture Of You The Baki Men Choose As Their Phone Background, Pt. 1 <3

Reader X Baki, Retsu, and Katsumi

I saw this prompt for some other fandoms and thought it was absolutely adorable, so here are some silly little sweet headcanons for your reading pleasure!

Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Mostly fluff, some mentions of suggestive themes and spicy texts, but other than that it’s rather mild. Also, it’s pretty lightly edited. No gendered words, but leans towards a female reader.

/)/) /)/) ( . .) (⸝⸝ᵕ ᵕ) ~ ♪ (ა📱ა૮( )ა

Baki Hanma 📱

Lock Screen- A cute picture of the two of you from one of your first official dates. It was at an amusement park and some of the park employees were greeting oncoming guests dressed up as mascots, milling around the front of the park posing with and taking pictures with the newcomers. At the time you were rather embarrassed, the characters mostly flocked to the children that were entering the park, but since there were no children in your party they all buzzed around you instead. The huge, florescent pink cat-suited individual that danced around you commented on what a lovely couple you were, urging you and Baki to form a heart with your hands as they posed energetically behind you, their cohort (an equally bright blue dog) snapping a quick picture of the three of you with Baki’s phone. Though the photo was rushed and a little blurry, you are all smiles in the shot, both yourself and Baki looking both bashful and genuinely happy. The love radiating through that image alone warms his heart each time he glances at it, and it warmed yours in turn to know he cherished the memory as much as you did, going so far as to set it as his lock screen so that he could be reminded of it each time he checked his phone.

Home Screen- A candid picture of yourself on another one of your dates, taken quite some time after the amusement park picture was taken. The newbie awkwardness in your relationship had greatly diminished at this point, a peaceful sort of comfort and familiarity now reigning supreme in your romance. Years of being with another person does that to you, your new-relationship jitters subsiding as you get to know all about your partner, their best and worst sides. With time all their obnoxious or gross habits have long since been laid bare, but you are still somehow simultaneously finding new things about them that make you love them even more. Your love changes with time, morphing from something fresh and new to something much deeper, more concrete, more real. The picture he displayed on his homes screen was taken on a random day at a random time when nothing in particular was going on. You were simply walking in front of him and stopped for a brief moment to look at something across the way. He wasn’t even sure what it was that caught your attention, didn’t even really care, he was just fully fixated on you and how breathtakingly gorgeous you looked in that average, everyday moment. Before he even realized he was doing it he snapped a pic, and he was very grateful that he did. Each time he stares at his screen his heart races, beating so rapidly it’s as if he was back in the puppy-love stage of the relationship, and he falls for you all over again.

/)/) /)/) ( . .) (⸝⸝ᵕ ᵕ) ~ ♪ (ა📱ა૮( )ა

Retsu Kaioh 📱

Lock Screen- Like Baki, Retsu is rather fond of candid pictures. Something about capturing you spur of the moment in your day to day life really appeals to him, his heart fluttering when he catches glimpses of reminders that you have become a part of his daily routine. He gets to witness you in all states of being, and knowing you are comfortable enough around him to be your most natural, unguarded self, warms his heart like nothing else. You yourself didn’t find anything super special about the picture he took of you at the home and garden store. If anything you felt the image of yourself holding a succulent in a death grip, eying it a little too intensely as you debated whether you wanted to purchase it or not, was embarrassing. Retsu begs to differ, and each time you gripe about it he goes on a mini spiel, explaining to you in a little too much detail just how endearing he finds your ‘suffering an internal crisis as you try to find the perfect plant for the kitchen windowsill’ expression. This never ceases to instantly make your cheeks blush bright red at the impassioned nature of his tone. Still, the fact that he can find such ardent moments of love in the mundane is one of the reasons why you fell for him to begin with. You hope to share many more little adventures with him that yield even more random pictures you can look back on and smile, whether you personally find them flattering or not. As long as they bring Retsu joy, you will find joy in them as well.

Home Screen- If the picture of you at the store made you a little self-conscious, then his home screen was enough to make you want to bury your face and cry. At some point he had snapped an image of you asleep on the couch. This wasn’t some cutesy ‘I just fell asleep and look like a peaceful little angel’ snooze either- you were DEEP in the troughs of a nap, completely dead to the world. Mouth wide open with a rivulet of drool seeping out the side, old shirt rumpled up with your hand rested on your exposed belly, hair an absolute rats nest as it messily framed your head, it was the kind of picture that could easily be used as blackmail. Yet Retsu cherished it, beaming down at it like a parent looking at their child’s straight A report card. While you cringed each time you peered at his phone screen, questioning why in the world he would pick such an unflattering picture of you to stare at each day, it crossed your mind that maybe he set it as a joke, or to poke fun at you. That thought was quickly laid to rest however, as the sheer look of pure love that reflected in his eyes each time he stared at it made you keenly aware that his choice of setting it as his wallpaper was no prank. Somehow he found true beauty in that gross picture of you, and that in and of itself melted your heart a little bit. So it didn’t really matter how much you loathed the picture, after seeing Retsu’s puppy dog eyes as he stared at your passed out visage you decided it was fine to let him keep it as his background in lieu of something a little more complementary (as long as no one else was allowed to use his phone and potentially see it, that is).

/)/) /)/) ( . .) (⸝⸝ᵕ ᵕ) ~ ♪ (ა📱ა૮( )ა

Katsumi Orochi 📱

Lock Screen- He is definitely the type of dude to have some kind of dweeby, professionally done picture of the two of you as his lock screen. You remember thinking he was kidding when he asked you if you were interested in booking a couples photo session, but when you noted the serious look in his eye as he pressed the issue, you knew the offer wasn’t a joke. Though hesitant, you found yourself unable to turn him down, and a few days later you found yourself in a photo studio posing awkwardly while a photographer happily snapped away, complimenting what a cute couple you were as he directed you to pose this way or that. Despite the previous uncertainty and slightly uncomfortable atmosphere, quite a few gems were born from the shoot, and you ended up being very happy to have some beautifully charming shots to look back on. A certain picture stood out from the rest, one grabbed just as some silly, random comment from Katsumi made you both burst into a fit of laughter. With his arms wrapped around you from behind and huge genuine smiles engulfing both your faces, you leaned into one other, reliant on each other’s support lest you collapse to the ground into a pile of giggles. It was such a fun, happy capture that it very easily became your all-time favorite picture of the two of you.  So you couldn’t help but smile when you happened to spy his lock screen, finding it ironic that he chose your favorite picture to grace his background, especially when your own lock screen displayed the exact same pic. <3

Home Screen- A spicier selfie you sent him in the past. While there is no nudity in the shot itself, you can pinpoint the precise moment you took the shot, remembering it as one that definitely led to some much more revealing pictures (with provocative text to match). You also remembered being quite proud of the selfie- the seductive smolder in your eye, the way your shirt had slunk down your shoulder, the coy little smile on your face as you bit into your bottom lip, all of it came together for a truly sexy presentation. You weren’t one to often brag about your looks, but that day you worked hard to look hot and it had certainly paid off.  That day had also blessed you with good lighting and one of the best hair/makeup days of your life, so to see the image grace his phone screen made butterflies burst in your stomach, a feeling of elation washing over you with the realization that the effort you put in was not in vain. Though it made you blush a little to see that he had made one of the private pictures you sent him his phone background, there was no denying that it pleased you greatly. He was the type of man that earnestly believed that you were the most gorgeous thing on the planet no matter how much or little you were dolled up, but realizing that he took extra notice of when you put in effort to look your best for him, liking it to the point of making it a picture he could stare at all day (while all manner of fantasies were surely buzzing through his brain)…. Well, it certainly set your heart a flutter, for more reason than one.

/)/) /)/) ( . .) (⸝⸝ᵕ ᵕ) ~ ♪ (ა📱ა૮( )ა

[finniestoncrane]

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 1k giveaway commission: thank you @tearueful for letting me indulge in my subby little sadist side with their giveaway commission. cooper has reader all trussed up like a suckling pig and it's very difficult for him to see them as anything else 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: ropes, bondage, sadism, punishment, sub/dom dynamics, biting, knife play, biting/licking, mentions of wounds, blood, references to cannibalism

You knelt on the floor, back at an angle that let you rest your stomach and breasts against the floor, your cheek there too amidst the dirt and grime. You imagined this was part of it, the humiliation, the feeling that you were as low as dirt, nothing above it, not to Cooper at least.

The rope around your wrists burned the hardest. It was tight, too tight, and the sting tingled over your skin, a smarting pain that made you drool. As for your ankles, they were bound much looser, giving you range, the ability to spread your legs apart and expose yourself to him when he asked. But he had a lot more planned before that.

Cooper's boots were inches away from your face, his body looming over you as you looked up at him sideways from the floor. When your eyes met his he grinned, yellowed, aging teeth appearing slowly in a row as the corners of his mouth curled up cruelly.

"Now, this is your first rodeo, and I am a tough cowpoke. So I'll ask you again, darlin'."

He bent his knees, crouching next to you. A tip of his hat brim exposed his eyes, dark, but shining as he asked you once more.

"Are you sure you want me to give you the full Cooper Howard experience? Cos I can be a cruel, cruel man when I want to be. And I can assure you, that I almost always want to be."

You appreciated his concern. Honestly, you hadn't expected it from him, but it didn't dull the mood. If anything, it only sparked the fire inside of you, prodding at it, stoking it. He was offering you an out. He was there, in front of you, looking deep into your eyes and with all the sincerity he could muster, he was warning you.

He could ruin you. And he would try to. Were you sure that's what you wanted?

And it was.

So you nodded, enthusiastically, trying to keep yourself from smiling too much as you consented fervently to his abuse.

"Aw, just look at you, all trussed up and greedy, like a hungry little calf. Didn't even have to lasso you. No, this one just comes running for a punishment doesn't it?"

He kicked at your leg with the toe of his boot, knocking you off balance for a moment, chuckling as you wobbled.

"Yeah, Cooper... please... I'm so desperate."

Cooper was back down in a crouch, his hand quick under your chin as he grabbed it and pulled your face up, twisting your neck to an uncomfortable angle.

"Oh, I bet you are, little lady. Desperate and greedy. And so sweet about it too. I could just eat you up."

Sinking to his knees on the floor, his body collapsed onto you, pushing you harder into the ground, weighing you down, keeping you there, under his control. He placed soft, tentative kisses along your back, letting his tongue slip out, hanging over the corner of his mouth as he dragged it along your skin.

"You're ripe for the eatin', aren't you?"

Cooper's mouth travelled to your ass, kisses on the cheek closest to him.

"Thick, succulent rump..."

His teeth sank into your skin, rough, hard, enough that it made you squeal in response. He was firm in his grip, though, not letting up even when he felt you twitch against him, your body spasming from the sharp pain.

"What's wrong? You gonna put up a fight?"

You shook your head, biting your lip to stifle the soft sob that tried to come out, not wanting to put him off too much. When you managed to suppress the heavy breath, you told him what you wanted.

"No. No. I want this. I want you to hurt me."

"You want me to carve you up, huh? Slap you down on a plate and serve you up, hm?"

"Anything you want, Cooper."

He smacked your ass, sliding his knees back until he had sunk to the floor beside you on his stomach. With a steady hand, he unsheathed his knife, dragging the point of it up and down your thigh.

"I can't decide which bit of you I would eat first. Which part would be the nicest to have inside of me first, do you think?"

The tip of the knife sank into you, just enough that it created a small tear in your flesh, a small amount of blood emanating from it in tiny droplets. Stretching his neck out, Cooper pointed his tongue towards you, drool spilling from the edge as he pressed it to your skin, lapping at the metallic tang and groaning.

"You're gonna have me goin' feral, darlin'."

Around the wound, Cooper set his teeth, digging into you as he sucked the flesh into his mouth. Your skin prickled, a sharp sting from the cut as he tried to drink as much of your blood as would come out, tongue flitting over the slit as he moaned softly against your thigh. He pulled away with a loud pop, spittle coating you, falling to the floor, as he admired the reddening welt on your leg.

Your body trembled, your knees weakening in your state of arousal, feeling grateful that Cooper wanted you close, so close to him. Enough to ingest you, to have you completely. So much that you panicked when he moved away, standing up and walking around to your front. But your nerves settled as he hooked his fingers under your wrist restraints, pulling at them, tugging until you were kneeling before him.

Noticing the marking under the ropes, Cooper took his knife and cut through the restraints quickly, watching with pride as you kept your hands pressed together in front of you. He lifted one arm, slowly, grinning as he did so. Once it was at his face, he ran his tongue along the rope burn, tasting the heat of your wound.

He let it drop unceremoniously, smiling at you as he twirled the knife in his hand.

"Well, what's it gonna be? Where am I starting?"

[ataraxiaspainting]

One More Hour.

Megumi x GN Reader.

Synopsis: After nearly a whole day of spending time in your boyfriend’s dorm, he still wants more. Can you really deny him that wish, especially after he has bribed you with more chocolate and plushies, along with cuddling his dogs?

Word Count: 1k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

we fell in love in october by girl in red

Honeypie by JAWNY

I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys

Training Wheels by Melanie Martinez

Bubble Gum by Clairo

Cloud 9 by Beach Bunny

As It Was by Harry Styles

Mayonaka no Door / Stay With Me by Miki Matsubara

Hey Lover! by Wabie

Electric Love by BØRNS

*~*~*~*

No matter how much time passes, Megumi's dorm room remains unchanged in appearance and function.

The door glides open effortlessly unless Megumi has locked it for the night or day.

The rear wall of his room boasts fully stocked bookshelves, primarily filled with history books and nonfiction literature. This tends to annoy you, as reading any of them inevitably leads to immediate boredom-induced sleep. Once, you suggested that Megumi should embrace more imaginative reads, prompting him to respond with a half-serious glare that may have been annoyance or simply playful teasing, a common occurrence when the two of you are alone.

Megumi sleeps on a single futon, always left in a disheveled state, which is rather peculiar considering his typically organized nature. Even you occasionally make your bed, unless you're too tired in the mornings. However, Megumi consistently leaves his futon untidy, with stacks of nonfiction books near his pillow, as is his custom.

You always ponder silently, wondering if he keeps such boring books near his bedside so he can fall asleep faster, a mischievous smile forming within.

In the far corner of his dorm room sits his desk, always facing away from you. On it, you'll find Megumi's trusty laptop, open notebooks filled with scattered ideas, a collection of books, a handful of succulents and bonsai seedlings, and if you're fortunate, his Nintendo Switch. It's likely occupied by the perpetual loading screen of Animal Crossing: New Horizons, Omori, or Fire Emblem: Three Houses. Although he claims to play these games solely to appease your persistent recommendations, deep down you suspect he genuinely enjoys them. Of course, if you were to ever voice this suspicion, he wouldn't hesitate to sell his beloved Nintendo Switch on some online auction platform right before your eyes, subjecting you to a rather cruel spectacle.

However, he would undoubtedly retract his decision at the last possible moment. Megumi may possess various traits, but intentionally causing you emotional pain out of spite is certainly not one of them.

“‘Gumi, what’s your favorite type of chocolate?”

At your question, Megumi stares at you like you have grown a second face like Tomie Kawakami. Surely to him, you’re also just as pretty right, minus the second face thing? You’ll have to put it on your list of impulsive things to ask him, physically writing it down or otherwise.

In your hands is the heart-shaped box he had just given to you as a supposed reward for not having talked his ears off. Along with not having thrown his gift, a container of some homemade strawberry cake that you made from a boxed mix, that you would never admit, at him when he inevitably made some teasing quip. You aren’t known for being exactly willing to let insults from fellow peas in your pod pass without them hammering back. It is just what you do.

He may avoid the question, but at least he will still be chained down to sitting with you on the floor if you keep on pouting with every action he takes.

As always, acting like he is being held hostage in his own dorm room, he shuffles from side to side instead of responding. He’s faking being nervous again. Even if you wanted to, you could never actually hurt Megumi.

He looks at the floor, feigning confusion and fear.

You sigh.

There is a slight smirk that appears on his face as you do so.

He can be such a dick sometimes, intentionally or not, although him being the former is quite rare, he only does it with you. The duality of such a foreign species of a man called Megumi Fushiguro, you guess.

“Cherry, of course.” Of course. “I just love it. You should know that. Bec-”

Immediately, your hand slaps over his mouth like its life depends on it.

“Don’t you dare, everyone knows I hate cherry-flavored things!”

Like he was drowning, Megumi acts out a struggle and as soon as your hand is off, he takes in deep breaths, inhaling in and out quickly like you had single-handedly made him see the heavens itself. He is strange. But so are you.

So, against your better judgment, you throw your copy of Crime and Punishment, all 700 pages of it, at him, hitting his forehead with a loud slamming sound erupting from the attack.

“Ow!” Megumi exclaims, rubbing the sore spot with his hands. Maybe your actions were over the top? Yet, then again, so was his.

You cross your arms. “Deserved.”

“I can take away that rabbit plush I gave you last week.”

“You wouldn’t dare, Fushiguro.”

“I would. You’re lucky, though. I don’t usually tease anyone aside from you.”

That’s true. Megumi is stoic in all matters, from cooking to reading. That is, aside from matters where a closed door and you are involved. It is like he becomes an entirely different person, you heavily, heavily doubt Yuji would believe you if you told him.

Even on dates, he is never this expressive. If anything, he is a well-meaning but cold Prince Charming whenever the general public has eyes on him. If only that were true.

“But really, what is your favorite type of chocolate?”

His smirk disappears, replaced with a thoughtful expression.

“Hmm.” Perhaps the all-powerful concussion made him go back to normal? That would make sense. “Coffee, maybe.”

“Huh? Why, to still satisfy your caffeine addiction?”

“Goes well with ginger.”

“What?”

It is a hard-to-stomach image that appears in your head; Megumi eating Shogayaki for breakfast with black coffee along with coffee-flavored chocolates on the side. It makes you sick just thinking about it. If that vision ever became an unfortunate reality, you could imagine yourself looking at the scene in pure horror. 

He isn’t teasing you if his expression tells you anything.

He’s serious.

“They aren’t that sweet either.” He really is serious. “You know I don’t like sweet side dishes. Ginger and coffee are a good combination.”

He really is fucking serious.

“Get out, Megumi.”

“...This is my-”

“Argh! Don’t care! Get out!”

[twstbookclub]

Unexpectedly Cute

Summary: You were grumbling about Grim and his absurd eating habits, when you found a small cactus in the courtyard. When you picked it up, you didn't think you'd see another side of Jack that day. He didn't expect to see another side of you, either. POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender-neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa🦋 Tags: Fluff, Romantic/Platonic, Tiny Cactus!!, Tsundere Jack Howl (that's putting it superficially), MC is a short and feisty firecracker in this Word Count: 1, 879 hi, i'm alive. i genuinely have a hard time writing jack, ngl. prompts for him were being switched around, and college is still kicking my ass. it's been months, really. although, i want to thank everyone who stuck around and waited for us to post fics again. i'm going to be busy again some time soon, but i hope i get to my drafts before i have to go back to the grind. again, thank you so much and i hope you enjoy reading 💕

Jack Howl has always been an enigma to you. He was an open book most of the time. His cheeks flushed whenever you pointed out his concern for others. His eyebrows pinched together every time you called him kind. He always averted his eyes and turned away from you whenever you smiled knowingly, as if you held his secrets in the palm of your hand.

Yet, he never talked much about himself. He always tagged along with your unusual, ragtag group of friends. Even if Ace and Deuce’s fights annoyed him sometimes, he still stayed. His ears twitched at every little noise. His tail wagged whenever he was happy, and it slowly swayed from side to side whenever he was content. You always noticed the little things about Jack, but he never breathed a word about his life outside of Night Raven College nor his personal preferences.

He was an open book, but the pages were inked with ciphers and riddles that hid all of his secrets.

“Why the hell…?” You trailed off with a raise of your brow. In your hands sat a small pot with a succulent in it. Its soil was a rich brown, surrounding a round and prickly cactus. Judging by the soil and the color of the cactus, it was well taken care of.

Your hand hovered over the thorns, but you pulled away with a shake of your head. As mesmerized as you were by the tiny and cute plant, you had your priorities.

For example, why the hell was a succulent—that was given this much love and care—lying on the courtyard?

You were on your way to Sam’s store for a quick restock of tuna cans for Grim (that tiny rascal got greedy and ate a month’s supply), when you found this little thing. It laid on its side on the grass near the stone pathway. The moment you held it in your hands, you couldn’t help but admire how adorable and pretty the cactus was.

“Now, what are you doing here?” You mumbled to yourself as you continued on your way to Sam’s store. “You look like you’ve been really loved by your owner, so how did you end up here?”

With how engrossed you were in admiring the little cactus, you failed to hear a choked noise and the abrupt halt of footsteps behind you. You continued to give the succulent all of your attention with gentle hands and more murmurs.

You were an enigma to Jack Howl. You rarely talked about yourself, yet you revealed so much of yourself. He remembered how a scowl always marred your face, specifically the times when someone annoyed you. He remembered the fire in your eyes when you gnashed your teeth at Leona’s insults. He remembered the curses that spilled from your lips, whether it was spite for the assholes in NRC or your everyday self-expression. There was never a day that you spoke without cursing like a sailor drunk on booze and the salty sea air.

Jack was reminded of a wildfire every time he saw you. You wreaked havoc everywhere you went. A single touch—maybe a glimpse—from you seared your presence into someone’s mind, like an ember swelling into an inferno among a sea of trees. Like a moth to a flame, he gravitated towards you despite that faint voice warning him in the back of his mind.

The Savanaclaw freshman watched you smile, a miniscule quirk of your lips. The hands that cradled his potted cactus were the same ones that punched a sophomore, who mocked you for your short height. The eyes that held so much contempt and rage were looking at that succulent with quiet admiration, as if you were looking at the stars rather than a single plant.

Just now, you reminded Jack of a pure, white dandelion whose seeds danced and twirled in the wind.

Before Jack realized it, he clapped a hand on your shoulder with a gruff, “Hey.”

You jumped, clutching the little cactus close to your chest with a loud, “Son of a b—Jack!” One of the wolf beastman’s ears twitched, catching a hint of relief and exasperation in your voice. His eyes never missed the way you pulled the plant close to you, as if it was a child that should be protected. The soft admiration in your gaze was replaced with harsh and guarded eyes, the usual. Jack noticed how much he paid attention to you, and he became a bit embarrassed at the thought.

“That’s, uh, mine,” he stammered. Your eyes were drawn to the light flush on his cheeks. His gaze averted to the side, and he raised a hand to rub the back of his neck. Subtly, you glanced at Jack’s tail.

It was wagging from side to side, for some reason.

Looking back at the taller beastman, you drawled, “I didn’t know you have a green thumb, Jack. Maybe I should ask you to help me with gathering ingredients for Professor Crewel next time.”

The embarrassed blush grew worse, darkening his cheeks. The sharp edges in his eyes returned with a glower. You couldn’t help the grin that stretched across your face when you heard Jack growl.

“... Don’t push it, Prefect. It’s not like I’d help you out every time you call me.”

Yet, he always did.

You shrugged and laughed with a playful nudge to Jack’s side. Careful hands returned the succulent to him as you chirped, “You say that, but you always come running whenever I do. Just admit it, Jack.”

He shot you an unimpressed look, and you laughed as he took the tiny pot from you. Jack’s ears twitched again. His eyes drank in the way your smile lit your face; how your irises hid behind the chub of your cheeks. For someone who’d pounce at anyone with murderous intent in that petite body, he didn’t think he’d see you smile like that.

Jack’s tail wagged behind him, fast enough to fan cool air to anyone who stood behind him. You silently mused about how it could sweep the dirt off the ground if it wagged any faster.

“It’s not like you to lose something,” you pointed out with that grin still on your face. 

Jack clutched the pot with a stutter and a furrow of his brows. You nearly laughed at his embarrassment, and you couldn’t help but muse to yourself.

Jack can actually be cute like this. He’s even being gentle with the pot. Cute.

“I-I was taking the cactus out for some sun,” Jack began with a frown as the blush was fading from his cheeks, “when Ruggie found me and told me that Leona needed me for something. The next thing I knew, it's in your hands.”

“The little guy took a tumble, then,” you concluded with a look at the cactus in Jack’s hands. “It was on the ground when I found it. Where did you leave it earlier?”

“On that bench.” Jack nudged his head towards one of the benches in the courtyard. A patch of sunlight shone over one of its edges, while the shadow of the tree stretched across the grass.

Jack watched you stare at the bench with a hum. With your attention occupied like this, he observed you without warranting unwanted embarrassment.

You bit your lip, pulling the bottom into your mouth. A million thoughts seemed to run through your mind behind that gaze of yours. A faint breeze rustled your hair and tickled your skin—and Jack couldn’t look away, for some reason.

Your eyes darted towards Jack, and he nearly flinched from getting caught staring at you. Although, you didn’t seem to think of it that way.

“I tried to scoop back some of the soil that fell out,” you told him with a lopsided smile. It looked awkward on you, as if you’re not used to smiling this much in a day.

“You’re lucky that the pot’s made of plastic. Maybe some jerk decided it was funny to ruin someone’s day like this.”

Jack continued to watch you mumble speculations under your breath. He didn’t realize it, but his hands gripped the pot and his tail wagged faster.

Who knew you could be this mellow? Your concern for his plant was kind of cute.

“Thanks,” Jack told you with a small smile, “for finding my cactus.”

You stopped mumbling, and you looked up at Jack again. You looked surprised at his gratitude, as if being thanked was rare for you. While Jack drank in the foreign expressions you made, a thought suddenly dawned on him.

“By the way, what are you doing out here?”

That seemed to snap you back to reality. The familiar frown returned, one that Jack vividly remembered from the little time he spent with you.

“Grim ate too much tuna,” you grumbled with an annoyed glare. It was as if you could see the monster-cat right in front of you.

“Now, I gotta buy more from Sam. That little bastard, I swear to the Seven—”

Jack noticed that you mentioned the Seven, rather than the usual God. You were getting comfortable with the lingo here. The corner of his lips twitched at that. Still, he made sure not to smile. If he did, you’d just tease him more, and this conversation wasn’t going to go anywhere.

“I’ll walk you there. It wouldn’t feel right if I left you after you helped me out.”

You paused at Jack’s words. A closed-lip smile lit your face, and the beastman couldn’t help but admire the sudden change in expression.

“Really?” You asked, and he caught the relief in your tone again. “Thanks. You sure you wouldn’t mind? I mean, you still have that little guy to take care of.”

You kept calling his tiny cactus a little guy. Cute. That was all Jack could think about. For someone who was callous and confrontational like you, you were being cute right now.

“I don’t mind. Besides,” Jack slightly raised the potted succulent to make his point, “think of it as returning the favor.”

You saw Jack’s tail wagging and his ears perking up. He probably didn’t notice, and you grinned  at that.

“If you insist!” You chirped, before slipping an arm in his and leading him towards Sam’s store. He stumbled and stuttered again, before he exclaimed, “O-oi, hold on!”

“No can do.” Your grin grew wider, as you tugged the taller and larger freshman with you. Even if he was stronger and stockier than you, Jack let you drag him around.

“You put yourself in this situation, so I’ll make you carry the rest of the cans!”

Who knew he could seriously be this cute and earnest? For someone as intimidating and quiet as Jack, his reactions are earnestly cute.

You and Jack fell into another conversation—teasing him and earning an embarrassed blush—as you two walked to Sam’s store. The silence in the courtyard was disrupted with amused laughter and mortified grumbles.

As the afternoon sun showered the two in a golden glow, the cactus seemed to look more lively and vibrant in Jack’s hands now. It basked in the two’s company, as if it was the sunlight it needed all along.

[reds-writings]

hii!! can i request

10. lashing out even though they know they will regret it from the angst prompts for rust

here's some sunny and rust angst! felt like it was fitting for when she first starts helping rust!

The pointed silence bleeding from you was more unnerving than Rust thought it could be. He had lashed out, shamefully so he’d regretfully admit. Marty had pissed him off a great deal earlier today and the fact that he always had to be hovered over one way or another was igniting a frenzy of feeling particularly fucking agitated. He loathed feeling so helpless. Whether it was a fragile sense of masculinity that had been subconsciously engrained within him or he was just being a dick because he could would be a question for the ages. 

The clinking sounds of dishes that the flow of sink water couldn’t drown out made him feel guiltier by the minute. It was the lack of routinely nonsensical humming during any simple task that made an impact. Your spark had been put out for the afternoon. 

And he was the rotten asshole who did it. 

Over what? All because you had to help him eat due to muscles of his own still on the mend from being stuck in a shitty hospital bed for weeks on end? There was certainly no need to harshly shove you away along with the plate of carefully crafted lunch you prepared to the floor in a heaping mess with spiteful curses. His resentful act had you frozen in place. Rust wasn’t the first patient to be so callous when you were just trying to do your job but it hurt all the same. He was a tough nut to crack so far in the two weeks you’ve been with him but today it was made clear your efforts might not ever be valued. 

The minute wobble of your lower lip was nearly imperceptible but the glaze that took form over your eyes sure wasn’t. Hating to be seen so emotionally exposed, you wordlessly stood up to grab a few paper towels to hopelessly clean up Marty’s rug. There’d be a big stain but you were sure Rust was due for more of a verbal lashing than you would be once you relayed the day’s events. 

God, this job didn’t pay nearly enough as it should with some of the crap you had to put up with. 

Rust kept his uneasy gaze on the TV in front of him. Old football highlights sounded foreign to his ears as he had trouble fighting away wanting to grovel for his mistreatment towards you. The most undeserving of receiving anything in the shape of cruelty. Marty would have him by the fucking ear, that much was true, but that bothered him less than his current predicament of trying to formulate a formal apology. One that wasn’t tinged with predictable apathy or a mashup of bumbling words. 

The sound of water suddenly shut off and the soft padding of your feet drew close again. His eyes darted towards your choice of socks for the day. Adorned with cartoonish succulents, a joke scrawled out near your calves: ‘What’s up succas?’ They were awful, but you had been excited to present them as soon as you stepped through the door this morning. It just made him feel more shitty. 

“Would you like for me to leave early today? I can have someone else come in for your night doses and bandage dressing.” You’d never sounded so prim. It was jarring. 

He fumbled for a strong answer, “...N-no.”

“Would you like me to sit away and give you space for the remainder of the day?” 

Your posture was set in a stiff cast. Unease infiltrated the room, growing thicker by the second as his brain wracked through all its confusion and veining remorse. You were like a different person. Forced into the protocol of taking residence as an even-keeled, unfeeling nurse. You wouldn’t allow him the image of being thrown off-kilter by his meanness. You could only let people walk all over you for so long in these instances even if shoving away instinctual kindness and immediate forgiveness hurt. 

“No.” He tried and failed at sounding more resolute. What was wrong with him? 

You didn’t say anything, visibly deflating as you pressed a thumb to the space between your brows. It was clear he had you at a loss of what to do but he couldn’t hold you as an awkward hostage any longer. 

“I’m sorry.” It felt as if he had to force it out of his windpipe. Uncomfortable and unsure.

“Okay…”

“It was rude of me to-...behave as I did.” His eyes were everywhere but yours. If you weren’t so drained you’d giggle at the absurdity of Rust looking so timid. You straightened up to do your best at upholding your firm resolve. 

“There’s no excuse for it. It won’t happen again.” He pushed out and you just nodded. A teeny smile teasing the edge of your lips. You were getting a kick out of this. 

“You’re not bad to…” He hesitated and you waited.

That spark was coming back. 

“...have around.” It might’ve been impossible for him to look more embarrassed than he did from his spot on the couch. You put a hand to your mouth to suppress your growing grin, turning to the side in mock thought over his apology. It wasn’t the most graceful but you figured it was something coming from him. Turning back to him you yielded,

“I will humbly accept this apology. But we have to watch whatever I wanna watch before I leave tonight. The girliest of picks to make me feel better.”

He mulled it over but knew there was no winning right away, “Sure.”

You wiggled in a mini burst of victory before plopping down on the couch, still conscious of his need for space, and smiled as you got comfortable. 

“I’m thinking along the lines of Pretty in Pink. Oh! Maybe Roman Holiday-...” You rambled on about the movies you planned on torturing him with that he’d positively pretend to sleep through.

He was going to need help from whatever higher power was willing for him to navigate the colorful force that was you. 

[godspeedviper]

More Than Meets The Eye - The Corinthian Kinktober (+18)

𖤐 Kinktober Prompt: Dacryphilia

𖤐 Synopsis: Eyes are not the only treat The Corinthian enjoys.

𖤐 Word Count: 385

𖤐 Rating: Mature || The Corithian is his own warning || Gore

  Everyone knew that the killer (or killers) behind The Corinthian moniker took the eyes of their victims as trophies, but what the public didn’t know was that this was not the only trophy that The Corinthian won. 

  No, in fact, The Corinthian enjoyed everything about the hunt. From selecting a victim, to luring them in, toying with them, and savoring the final moments before the kill. He looked for faces as much as he looked for eyes. He liked a good crier, a pretty boy, and ultimately, a pliable body. Even the strongest men melted like putty under the power of his charm and the promise of a quick fuck. 

  Once he had selected a lamb – a victim – The Corinthian puffed them up with flattery and drinks. This was the most laborious part, playing dumb whilst simultaneously keeping all senses alert and sharp. Behind dark shades his teeth tore through his victim’s mannerisms, each reaction only feeding The Corinthian’s small mouths more and more information, chipping away at their defenses. A little flattery here, a few leading questions there, until they were practically running into the slaughterhouse of his embrace. 

  Tonight, a luxury hotel room served as his abattoir. The Corinthian tied up his little lamb like a chef preparing a succulent roast. He peppered their skin with kisses, working them up into a frenzy, then and only then would he pull out the knife. This was where the real fun began. Tears welled up in his victim’s gaze, marinating their eyes in a salty medley of fear, regret, anger and desperation. The Corinthian gently cupped his victim’s fearful face in his hands, rubbing his thumb against their cheeks in a mockery of comfort. 

“Shh shh… There there now.” He cooed, giving his victim one last patronizing pat on the cheek before reaching one hand up to remove his sunglasses and reveal his true nature. 

  A shriek of terror died in his victim’s throat, choked out by the sheer terror which gripped them in the face of three hungry mouths. The Corinthian leaned into their face, and used his eye-mouths to drink in the stream of tears flowing down his victim’s cheeks. Oh!

He could get drunk off the power alone. 

“You’re so beautiful when you cry.” He said, before going in for the kill. 

Ao3 || Kinktober List || Ko-Fi

[cho-aaacho]

(Flufftober 2023) Picnic

Main Masterlist I Archive of Our Own

Flufftober 2023 Masterlist I Prompts List

Tags : Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Picnic, Swimming Date, Flufftober 2023, Reader is genderless

(Flufftober Day 21)

"Wow, I never thought that a picnic would be this good," he mused. "You are always the best."

As he drowned himself in the crystal-clear embrace of water, Piers felt as though he'd entered the gate of heaven. It had been a long time since he spoiled himself in the river's frigid caress, sipping on honeyed lemon juice and chewing a slice of sandwich from their well-packed picnic hamper.

The weather today was so good, almost like a masterpiece painting from heaven; the clouds resembled cotton candy and clung to the sky with their pastel blue color. The gentle breeze waltzed in the atmosphere, and the gentle greenish woods also had grapes that hung there like succulent jewels, ripe for plucking.

You found yourself sitting on the riverbank while your eyes were set on Piers. His damp hair is covered with the natural scent of algae, while his skin releases an intimate connection with the cool embrace of water and the warmth from the sun.

The golden glow danced upon him, transforming his presence into a wonderful work of art, and you have a terrible urge to capture Piers' photograph. No doubt he's so dramatically sexy with a touch of nature.

With a sly, mischievous smile, you said, "You look adorable, Piers. How about I take a photograph of you?" A gentle kiss was placed on his earlobe, waiting for his response.

"Hmm?" He shook his head and chuckled, extending his arm to rest on your lap, as if teasingly luring you toward the river. "Sweetheart, I'm not wearing anything," he quipped.

"But you're on the water. It isn't my problem; I just want to cherish this moment with you. After all, Redfield will be loud again about training, and he'll take you from me!"

Now he is transforming into a mystical creature from the fantasy book you read. Where they have some magical power to make humans breathe beneath the water's surface.

At that moment, you couldn't help but feel foolish about what you saw. His wet hair was framed with seductive glassy eyes, and his soft pink lips begged to be kissed. His strong and deep voice held you in a mesmerizing trance.

You're not sure if you're still normal. Anyone will never really comprehend your devotion to Piers, wondering if it's reality or merely a dream.

A sly grin played on his lips. "A photograph, you say? Oh, yes, darling. You'll have that by doing this—"

In a forceful movement, Piers tugged you beneath the surface of the river, letting the chill waters compulsively caress your skin. It feels like he is trying to pull your soul into his mischievous games.

"What the hell is this, Piers?" You snatched his shoulder. "I don't have any other clothes! How could you—"

Your words were cut short as he sealed your lips with a tender yet sensual kiss. He planted another kiss on your lips, leaving a gentle yet amusing nibble on your lower lips. His arm circled your waist as another hand traced the contours of your cheek with affection.

"Perhaps, my dear, I should buy other clothes for you, and let's call this a swimming date!"

[shieldkeeper]

Writing Prompt: Hackneyed Word Count: 865 ---> masterlist

One mind. One drive. One goal.

Hunt. Eat. Battle. War. Expand. Conquer. Destroy.

Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight…!

Words and meaning blended into one. All within one shared conscious. One shared mindset that never deviated. No desires save for that of the true Overmind. No thought of yours was your own. A glorious echo chamber that united every single unit upon the same path. All by one name. With many appendages to be called its soldiers of no names.

Such was the colony of the Gnath. Following those self-same commands from first breath to last. Their experiences shared with the one mind to forever live on as fact, but the shell of their former selves to be left forgotten after a service. For there was not one amongst themselves with any sense of individuality—none save the Overmind who connected them all and linked them together. All one and the same.

Yet one Gnath was different amongst them. Not like the Vath with their own individuality and names. For they were still one and the same with every other entity of the Gnath. Driven and grown within the same hivemind. But they were of flesh and blood in comparison to their insectoid mates. Of a different race altogether, but was born a Gnath Warrior to battle on the frontlines and secure succulent meats. Thrown to war in droves with their brethren for territory. With no mind for themselves or their body.

An overbearing mantra that continued its melody regardless of their true form.

Fight! Kill! War! Conquer! For Glorious Combat..!

Kill Kill Kill Kill Kill Kill Kill Kill Kill Kill Kill Kill Kill Kill Kill Kill

…

Until it snapped.

When ceaseless, maddening thoughts came to a complete and utter stop. And the unnamed unit came to a sudden halt. Their mind had gone blank. That connection they had always had with them… the voice of their colony and everything that they were… gone within an instant. Letting loose a feral scream of confusion as a new world of color rushed into their eyes and overtook them. Bathing them in new thoughts… a new voice to them… But whose were they? Where had their consciousness gone?

The comfort of the Overmind was no longer present. What were these thoughts? These feelings? This rush of adrenaline and mindfulness of one’s self? 

They had become so overwhelmed that they simply collapsed upon themselves then and there. Whatever they had been doing… whatever they had been fighting… taking the charge in capturing their person and enveloping them in warm embrace.

…

…

…

When next they came to, they were surrounded. By those who looked and appeared like their brethren, but their thoughts did not intermingle with theirs. Nothing could be heard save for the clicks between themselves and voices—their voices. The Vath. That much they realized.

The unit stood there a blank slate. A husk of themselves. Empty and unfeeling.

The Vath tried to explain to them what had happened. That their link with the onemind had been severed. That they were free to live and become an individual. That they had been saved by one of their kin.

Kin?

Hazy eyes scanned the crowd until one of small stature stepped forth. They were not a Gnath or Vath. But the way they looked… the way they moved and held out their arms in welcome. The unnamed reached out their own arms and realized themselves the same of body. Where their warmth intermingled on touch… the same warmth that had enveloped them before when they collapsed.

“From this day forth, you are not another nameless number. You have been born anew with a life of your own. No longer will you follow the will of another. Not when you now have one of your own.”

So said the lalafell by the name of Garen before them.

Maddening. This feeling of madness. Where their thoughts called out for their colony, only to be met with complete and utter silence. As if they’d been lost and abandoned.

They… they had to think for themselves now…?

They could never return?

“Come with me.” Garen took their hand in his. “I know it’s a lot, but the Vath filled me in on what you must be feeling right now. I can help with that. And I can help you become the person you’re meant to be.”

Words that rang hollow in this lost soul’s mind. Of one who only ever knew to fight and nothing more. A desire that he didn’t even have at this moment… that familiar desire to fight! It was as though it had been drained into nothingness.

“Seiseito.” The lalafellin man had spoken up again. “You are one of my own kind and so you deserve to be named as one. Seiseito will be your name. Lest you opt for something different later.”

“Sei…seito…” The words sounded foreign in their own voice. Learning now that they even had a voice!  One of their own.

They… Seiseito… would follow this unknown man. Learn the ways of his new life and of his new kin. To learn the meaning to life for oneself. And not for a whole.

[kittykatkatelol2]

"Plants" Jegulus Oneshot

Prompt by @jegulus-microfic (prompt: plant)

-

"I'll be right back, gotta use the restroom."

Regulus nods as James walks away - more like wanders away, to Regulus's dormitory bathroom.

James gasps as he walks in-

"REGGIE I THINK SOMEONE BROKE IN TO YOUR LOO !" James called frantically.

Regulus rolled his eyes, chucking a little, for he doubted anyone would ever break into only a restroom. But he got up anyways and joined James in the bathroom.

"Uh, love, I don't see anything wrong-"

"THERE ARE SO MANY PLANTS !" James says loudly, pointing out the very obvious.

There were a lot of small plants (hell even a couple big plants) on most surfaces of this bathroom, mostly succulents; as if it wasn't already green enough from the dark green tile floor, and light green walls, and a green shower curtain the same colour as the classic green Slytherin colour.

"SOMEONE BROKE IN AND LEFT A BUNCH A PLANTS IN YOUR BATHROOM-"

"Jamie, those are my plants. No body broke in to my dorm to leave me a fuck ton of plants," Regulus says, chucking a little again as he watched James's face as he registered Regulus's words and as it finally clicked for James.

James's mouth made a small 'O' shape and he quickly apologized.

"Oh um sorry, Reg, I guess that should have been obvious," James says, laughing a little, but it was nervous laughter.

"It's fine, Jamie."

"You just - you just don't look, nor act, like the type of guy to basically collect plants. It's cool though."

Regulus smiled at James; James was one of the few to make Regulus properly smile like this.

"Thank you, love. I'll leave you to this."

James nods as Regulus leaves the restroom.

This was not at all what James expected, but fuck he secretly (or maybe not so secretly) loved this little thing about his Reggie. Who knew Regulus loved plants.

-

[Word count: 312]

[A/N: to me, most of this was just "its so stupid its funny" to me. So take that as you will lmao-]

[pondslime]

[ 13 ] the garden center of a home improvement store

Lester Sinclair x reader, fluff or smut—both are good! Also, there's no pressure to fulfil this. If it strikes your fancy, great! If not, no worries. 😊 💚

tysm for the prompt crumb <33

881 words. Lester Sinclair x GN!Reader. Absolutely NO warnings, just fluffy flirtation!

send me a prompt & a character and I'll write u a lil smthn smthn 👀

The air is murky out here, sun streaming through the glass ceiling.

You make your way slowly around the tables, peering at the assortment of flowers and potted plants. Your eyes land on the mums, their petals a vibrant explosion of color in the center display. After a moment of deliberation, you pick up one of the pots.

You’ve never been one with a green thumb, but you’ll try anything once. As you go to set it in your shopping cart, you feel a tap on your shoulder.

Turning around, you’re met with a bright smile—courtesy of the dirtiest man you've ever seen. He almost looks like he's taken a voluntary tumble into one of the many flowerbeds, dirt smearing across his cheeks and coating his clothes.

"Reckon you're better off with that one." He points towards a nearly identical pot of flowers at the side of the display. "One you got; stems are a lil' woody. Figure these folks haven't been waterin' 'em enough."

You lift the planter in your hands up and peer at the stems. You're not exactly sure what you're looking at, but…sure. Carefully, you set the pot of mums back on the table, reaching for the planter he suggested.

"Just figured you outta know." He shrugs.

"Thanks." You shoot him a smile.

His cart is overflowing with gardening tools, the unwieldy handles of several shovels spearing into the air. Amidst the chaotic assortment of lawn gear, you spy a pale purple succulent, stacked haphazardly on an overturned utility bucket.

"She's a beauty, ain't she?" He gestures down at the plant, beaming at you like a proud parent. "Couldn't bear leavin' her behind."

"She is." You nod.

"You have a good day now!" The items in his cart clang discordantly against each other as he wheels away. You wince as a particularly loud crash fills the air.

You hope that his succulent survives the shopping trip.

A week later, you step back into the gardening center. The now-familiar blast of muggy air smacks you directly in the face as you walk through the automatic doors.

Technically, you're here for some plant food. Technically. That's a good cover up story. A good Responsible Adult Reason to be back here again so soon. It's absolutely not motivated by the fact that you felt like your pot of mums was looking lonely on your porch. Of course not. It couldn't be. Because you don't need another plant. You don't even really have solid proof that you can keep the one you have alive, yet.

You should've known.

You're a bit of a fickle thing with your interests, bouncing from one to the other depending on your mood. Right now, for whatever reason, you're stuck on gardening. Like a malevolent botanical hivemind, your brain is currently tethered directly to those godforsaken flower displays. Now that you have one, you need another. That's what people always told you about tattoos, but you're surprised to find it also ringing true for plants.

First, though, practicality must reign. You grab a basket and stride down an aisle of gardening supplies, scanning the metal shelves for a shaker bottle of plant food. Rounding a corner, you nearly bump into someone squatting next to a palate stacked with bags of lime.

"Sorry!" You exclaim.

"No problem." It's the guy from last week. He peers up at you, his eyes brightening with recognition. "How's them mums doin'?"

"They're good." You smile. "Surprised you remember me."

“Well, you’re plenty memorable.” He says, eyes darting up your frame.

He's covered in marginally less dirt this time. He's also cuter than you remembered.

"You think so?" You smile.

“If you don’t mind me sayin’.” He dips his head bashfully.

This is most definitely not what you came for...but it's certainly a bonus.

“Isn’t this what people use to get rid of bodies?” You ask playfully, gesturing down at a bag of lime. You weren't sure how true that was, but you vaguely remembered seeing it in some true crime documentary. Or maybe that was lye, not lime—

"This kind ain’t no good for that.” He replies brightly, tapping at the label. “See, uh, this—it’ll slow decomp down…to a crawl. You ain't never gettin' rid of nothin' dead with it."

"You don't say…"

“Ya’ gotta use the right stuff. Now this—" He pats another bag matter-of-factly, nodding approvingly. "—this is the stuff you need for that kinda job."

You watch as he picks up the bag and heaves it into his cart. Wiping the dust off his hands, he gives you a lopsided grin.

"But even then, ya’ know, there’s always somethin’ left over in the end.” He continues. “'S hard gettin’ rid of bodies. Harder than ya' think.”

"You get rid of a lot of bodies?" You arch a brow.

"Part'a the job." He shrugs. "Pickin' up roadkill."

“Ah, Parks and Rec-kinda stuff?”

“Guess ya' could say that.”

You slot behind him in line at the cash register, a planter full of violets in your basket.

"Do you have a pen?" You ask the cashier.

Impulsively, you lean over the conveyor belt and scrawl your number onto the side of his bag of lime.

You don't need to look up to know that he's grinning.

[optiwashere]

52 Orin and Minthara?👉👈

Since you didn't include the touch type, I'm picking one because that's what I wanted to write. Thanks for sending in the request, anon 💜

You can send in one of these prompts + a ship/platonic pairing and I'll write a li'l ficlet!

---

Touching 52 (gripping thigh)~ CW for smut with some blood, sensory deprivation, rope, and dom/sub fun times.

The rope bit into Minthara's wrists and ankles. Try as she might, she could go nowhere. Strapped to a simple chair in the shadows of the Bhaalist's bedchamber, magical darkness swallowed her in a black cloud she couldn't hope to see through with darkvision.

Minthara could still feel the claws on her ankles. She could still hear the cackling and cracking noises of Orin slithering up between her legs.

Bristly hair appeared directly before her. Milky eyes stared into hers, a grin in black-and-white conjured on Orin's visage.

"Bend for me, can you?" Orin whispered, running her tongue from Minthara's clavicle to her throat. She sucked against her jaw. Between peppers of teeth and tongue, she asked, "Will you break for me?"

Her fingers dug into Minthara's thighs. She gripped all of her muscle with full hands that seemed to expand ever wider with the power of a changeling behind them. She clutched and stabbed, nails now knives as they ribboned her skin open into bleeding scars.

"Say something, quiet web spinner." Orin pouted.

"What would you have me say, mistress?"

"Speak whatever crawls from your tongue. Spread your lashing-words like I spread you," Orin breathed, her fingers pulling free from bleeding thigh to push between Minthara's legs. "Soaked and succulent."

Her thumb padded Minthara's clit roughly, pushing and swiping harsh patterns on the pulsing nerves.

"Touch me, mistress," Minthara managed.

Orin tutted loudly. Her middle finger searched through Minthara's core, digging deep into her bones to her gut. It curled up, beckoning for her and turning Minthara into a whimpering mess.

She tutted again. "Not enough, I'm afraid. Lick your words onto me with the lust I feel."

Minthara panted hard, her thigh bleeding profusely while Orin prodded her. Worked her deep to her soul. Tore her limb from limb with a touch of her cunt.

She tried to see anything other than Orin's face, glancing either way in the room. There was nothing but darkness. Nothing but the ropes binding her hands and ankles to the chair.

The hand between her legs and the nails in her skin.

[virtualcarrot]

[KKIR] Modern AU - Teaching Pains Pt3

Part 2

Prompt 3: Crushes

.

Not one to forget his manners, Iruka takes the time to thank Izumo for his update on the latest developments before stomping up the hallway with a resounding scream.

"Kakashi-sensei !”

The door damper at the teachers’ lounge is a familiar enemy to him. He still gives it the good old college try, but as usual there’s only frustration to be found instead of any actual thudding.

Still, his entrance is impactful enough that Suzume takes one look at him, adjusts her glasses, and makes herself scarce.

At the desk he’s claimed for himself, behind a small succulent and a figurine of a brown pug with a vest and headband, Kakashi perks up.

“Iruka-sensei!” he all but chirps in greeting.

“Do not ‘Iruka-sensei’ me, you know what you did. Setting fire to your classroom!” He hears his throat strangle the words in horror even as he says them. “What were you thinking?!”

“That it was an excellent teaching opportunity.’’

“A fire?!”

“In my defense, it was a controlled one.’’

“You had to put it out with a fire extinguisher!”

“Yes? that's what those are for, Iruka-sensei, it's right there in the name.”

For a brief moment, Iruka contemplates committing unspeakable acts of violence.

In the end, he pulls a chair to sag into. The backrest is low, and he sinks down with his legs spread until it meets the back of his neck. With his head thrown back, the sight of the ceiling proves to be a blessedly neutral balm to his frayed nerves.

A bit bright, though.

He throws an arm across his eyes with a groan. “Please tell me you at least cleared it with Hiruzen-sensei.”

A huff of laughter makes him fear the worst.

“I did,” Kakashi says, with the sort of casual mirth which drives Iruka to understand that Hiruzen, distracted by the study of one or another item of his personal collection of ancient books and shodō scrolls, gave some form of blanket approval.

He heaves a long sigh at the thought, slowly unwinding from his outburst. Kakashi lets him be, humming to himself as he jots down something likely unrelated to the grading he’s supposed to be doing, perhaps the answer to a crossword or the solution to one of the outlandish logic puzzles he’s fond of tearing out of magazines. Some fights aren’t worth the bother, Iruka has learned over the months since they started working together. He can let the man have some hobbies. So long as Kakashi’s writing then he’s not busy reading tawdry erotica out in the open.

Iruka lifts his arm tiredly to shoot an accusing look.

“You're going to give me so many gray hairs,” he complains.

Going by the creases of his visible eye, the idea seems to amuse Kakashi greatly. “Can’t say I see what's so wrong about that.”

And, saying that, he tilts his head in a way that makes his own hair flutter.

The sight is almost entrancing, gravity defying spikes catching the light in thin threads of silver. Of course Kakashi doesn't mind having gray hair. It suits him, in a roguish way, gives him an air of distinction that is far too appealing.

Shit.

Iruka’s been getting far too comfortable.

He pulls himself into a more conventional sitting form. Kakashi seems to take that as a sign he’s open to communicate with.

“Admit it,” he taunts, crow’s feet tight at the corner of his eye, “you wish you’d seen it.”

Iruka gives him a flat look to make up for the smile he can't hold back in response and he takes possession of the #1 Dog pencil-holder mug on the desk in retaliation. “I still might. By tonight, someone will have uploaded it, if it hasn’t already been, boasting about having the coolest teacher ever.”

Kakashi’s eye loses all playfulness. “Jealous?” he asks, but it doesn’t sound like a dig at Iruka. If anything, in the sudden weight of his gaze, Iruka could almost see a form of concern.

“No,” Iruka lies, watching the pencils tilt as he turns the mug in his hands. “You’ve been doing good work with the kids, you know,” he adds, because that at least is true. “Naruto’s improved by leaps and bounds thanks to you. I’m glad you’re here.”

When he looks up, Kakashi’s smiling at him again. His expression looks softer, almost fond.

“They do look up to you,” Kakashi says, reaching to pick the mug and replacing it with another, which has been steaming by his elbow. “It’s just easier to work with them in small groups. I leave the wrangling of full classrooms of teens to the professionals. Couldn’t pay me to do it.”

 Iruka brings the mug to his lips, only to pull a face and away. It’s the blasted brew of their terrible coffee maker. “I don’t know how you drink this stuff without any sugar, honestly.”

“It builds strength of character,” Kakashi quips instantly, tugging down his mask as he retrieves his drink. “Which you’ve got more than enough of already,” he adds as if to reassure Iruka, barely hiding a smirk as he drinks.

Iruka can’t help the upturn of his own lips at the words.

“I wouldn’t say you’re lacking,” he says with a huff.

“Clearly you'd be wrong. Haven’t been granted my school trip yet.”

It’s a tired argument but Iruka can’t help the need to make his case yet again. It’s unclear that all parents could pay for it, for starters, and that's not taking into account the students without. While Sasuke’s grades have earned him an additional scholarship, Naruto would be absolutely devastated to be left behind.

“You know we don’t--”

“--have the funds, the school’s open to orphans, the state doesn’t cover that, yes, yes, I know,” Kakashi finishes. There’s mild frustration in his voice but he doesn’t sound argumentative. More like he gets Iruka’s point, for all that he’s not fond of what makes it true.

For that, Iruka can’t help but give him a grateful smile.

“We’re waiting for a grant. Maybe next semester,” he says.

If he’s honest, he’d quite like to go on that school trip to the observatory himself. Kakashi has pretty much sold him on its merits and, well, he’d be a very foolish man indeed to miss the opportunity of listening to a lecture by professor Hatake himself.

He shakes the thought clear from his head, and meets Kakashi’s eye.

“Did you at least re-enable the fire alarm?” he asks and watches Kakashi go very, very still.

“I wouldn't forget something like that,” Kakashi retorts, but already Iruka can see the seed of doubt taking root.

As someone known to triple check the lock on his bike, he sympathizes.

Kakashi pushes up, readjusting his mask. “And on an entirely unrelated note, I must leave you.”

“Do wipe the whiteboard clean while you’re at it,” Iruka says mercilessly, chuckling at the half-hearted wave Kakashi sends over his shoulder.

Then he’s alone.

On the desk, the coffee mug has stopped steaming. Soon, it’ll reach a wasteful point of lukewarm. And while it’s shit coffee, it’s also free energy.

Iruka pulls a few packets of sugar from the unused stash accumulating in Kakashi’s drawer, dumps them into the mug, and resigns himself to his fate.

-

Part 4

@kakairu-rocks

[acermp100]

WAWA WEEK 5: DAWN OF THE WAWA

29/3 – Spring/nature: HOUSE PLANTS

Oh hey there's a nature prompt and I have a fav side character and love researching and taking care of plants *THROWS MINEGISHI AT YOU*

Serizawa wants to buy some house plants

General Audiences. Mild cursing. Minegishi and plants and some slight bouts of retail inspired nihilism. AND MORE SERI/REI SILLIES AT THE END. GEE.

~2200 words

--------------------------------------

The day had gone slow. Well, actually the entire week. No more school socials or holidays on either side of the calendar left only a few wandering by and even less deciding to come in. They’d look, they’d chat, they didn’t buy anything, they’d leave. Minegishi never really saw the point to it all but it did give him plenty of time to catch up on his reading. How interesting that the morel mushroom, famous for its taste and rarity, could grow in such a way it poisoned those who eat it. And we don’t even understand how it happens. Or maybe people had misidentified in their foraging.

The little bell over the door broke him out of his day dreaming. Oh joy, another bored employee ambling in during lunch for some vapid small talk. Wait, is that-

“Oh, hello!” A little bow punctuated the greeting. “I had heard you were working here but never had time to stop by.”

“Serizawa?” Minegishi set his book down. It was him, just with a suit and tie, a little brief case, and a new hair cut. And way more under the surface. “You look- a bit different since we last spoke.”

“Yeah- It’s been a while.” His voice trailed off as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Everything out here doesn’t even come close to Claw.” He jerked, standing up straight again. “I mean- that doesn’t mean I miss it! Just things changed. For the better though!”

“Don’t worry.” Minegishi almost cracked a grin, standing there with his dirt stained apron and classic retail worker expression. “I get it.”

Serizawa began looking around with wide eyes at the assortment of plants, flowers, and succulents. Minegishi had organized the small space over the past few days: fragile and colorful arrangements filled the shelves at his back with the opposite wall starting with little holders for individual flowers leading to small house plants. At the end was a refrigerator containing finished orders to be picked up surrounded by a large variety of more mature potted plants, some reaching to the ceiling.

Still so innocent. Minegishi wished he could feel such joy again, experience things for the first time with an open mind unstained by nihilism. At least Claw hadn’t taking that from Serizawa as it had him. Though another look at those cheerful eyes made him wonder if it was all just a mask.

“So, what brings you in?” Minegishi got up from his stool, actually interested in some small talk for once. “Have something in mind?”

“Oh! Um.” Serizawa shook his head, still trying to take everything in. “I was thinking a house plant. Something small for my apartment.” He gestured at the several on the shelves. “Maybe two?”

Walking over from behind the counter, Minegishi went over all the species in his head, organizing them in terms of ease of care, size, and light requirements. He ended with a turn of his head, looking up at his ex-coworker.

“Do you have any pets?”

“No.” Serizawa frowned. “Well, not yet. I wanted to get a cat but a few weeks ago I took care of Shou’s hamsters while he went on a trip with his mom.” And back to the unassuming smile. “That alone was too much! What with my job and taking night classes.”

“Mmm. I see.” Minegishi adjusted some of the pots. “Plants are easier to care for, however, that doesn’t mean you can just leave them alone and they’ll be fine.” Taking one of ferns he began to prune some of the dead leaves off the bottom. “Some need more light in the winter, or less water, most want food when developing flowers. You need to be aware of their needs or they will wilt and die.”

Serizawa nodded along, a serious look on his face. “I, well- I did a bit of research online. There’s a few spots where the windows let in light.” He glanced around the store a bit confused. “What do you mean food? Do I need to get like bags of fertilizer?”

Minegishi blinked once before crossing his arms, resisting the urge to bring a hand up to his face. “Serizawa.” He watched the man stand to attention. “Is your only experience with plants watching me in the greenhouse back at Claw?”

“I guess so?” Embarrassed fingers went through Serizawa’s hair. “I didn’t really have much time to properly learn about this. Just-“ He let out a sigh. “My boss, you know, Reigen Arataka? He’s stayed at my place a few times and made a comment how I should liven up the apartment. That it helps with morale and such. And he mentioned plants and something about air purification? We have a few plants at the office, so I thought I’d start small.”

Minegishi listened to the full vent, leaving a pause in case there happened to be more. “Alright. I understand now.” He turned and walked toward the back of the store. “Follow me.”

He lead Serizawa through a door to the closed off area even further into the shop. The taller man had to duck a bit under the shorter overhang. Light shone in though a crude set up of glass windows and tarps- Half of the back wall had been sacrificed to form a resemblance of a green house. Most of the sun failed to enter and so grow lamps were required, each hanging down off of wires over wooden planters all filled with an assortment of budding leaves and flowers. In the corner sat a darker patch filled with covered pots lined up in a row. All around lay buckets and bags of dirt along with hand shovels and twine.

Serizawa nearly hit his head on one of the lamps. He decided staying still was the best option now, nervously fidgeting with his fingers. 

“Relax. Nature is supposed to be soothing.”Minegishi caught a look from Serizawa and shrugged his shoulders. “Ok. Point taken. I don’t do that anymore.”

“Right.” Serizawa took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, growing far calmer. “So, is this where you grow the plants?”

“Some of them.” Minegishi paced, scanning each pot making sure all was in line. “Most flowers are shipped in from larger green houses and farms.” He stopped in front of a dozen or so pots separated from the others. “But I’ve been growing most of the houseplants here from cuttings and seeds.”

“They are so tiny. Cute.” Serizawa hovered behind Minegishi.  

“I suppose so.”

Holding out a hand, Minegishi closed his eyes and tried to focus. It wasn’t out of the need to actually manipulate the plants but to temper his powers so he wouldn’t cause harm.

“Woah.”

Each vascular sheath, every drop of water, every cell he could feel from the tip of the leaves down along the roots. Just a nudge and they harmonized with his aura. Little seedlings doubled in size, unfurling new leaves with some branching out as they grew taller. In the end the once near empty pots now hosted a variety of foliage from green to the dappled red and purple mixed with nearly emerging flowers.

Serizawa gasped. “That’s amazing!” Walking right up, he reached out to touch one of the plants but held back, still admiring the change and explosion of colors. “I’ve never seen leaves like this before.”

“That’s Codiaeum variegatum.” Minegishi didn’t wait for the expected confused silence. “Common name would be Croton. They come in several colors but I prefer the strong green with the red and yellow outlines.” He picked up a small watering can and started to tend to each pot. “You can put that one in front the window you mentioned and it will be fine.”

“Wait, you’re giving me this?” A pause, Serizawa still distracted. “I mean, I’m buying it?”

Without looking up from his work, Minegishi stopped at another pot. “Yes. It should be easy for you.” He flicked his gaze over his shoulder. “Just don’t over water: make sure the soil is dry before doing anything.”

At this point, Serizawa had taken out a note pad and was scribbling down details.

“And you will get this one as well.” The watering can was set down. Minegishi stood over sprawling plant with wide but long leaves. “It’s a Peace Lilly. Very comfortable in shade and tolerant of most indoor areas.” He set the pot off to side with the other. “See if you can keep it happy enough for it to flower.” In the end he was leaning against one of the planters, wiping dirt from his hands onto his apron. “Then you can come back and I can see what else would be suitable for you.”  

“Th- thank you!” Serizawa took one of Minegishi’s hands and less gave it a shake and more pulled at it for an awkward hug. “Um- I wrote down everything you said so I promise I will do my best.”

“Right.” Minegishi stood frozen, almost forgetting how personal his ex-coworker could be. “Let’s get these to the front and I’ll get your order processed.”

A few dings and a receipt print later and Serizawa was now a proud plant owner.

“What’s your address?” Minegishi looked up from the counter still writing down details. “I need it for the delivery.”

“Delivery?” Serizawa waved a hand. “You don’t have to do that, it’s fine.”

“Yeah. And you are gonna have a hard time carrying two pots filled with dirt and plants down to the train stop then home.”

“Oh.” Serizawa thought for a moment, having not even considered this. “I am returning to the office first. I guess you’re right.”

They finished getting all the information ready. Minegishi placed the pots in the corner for delivery after closing. He returned with a brilliant selection of flowers tied into a bouquet: white lilies mixed with roses both pink and red, opting out of the over used baby’s breath for the more enticing filler of dried lavender.

“Here.” He handed it over. “This is on the house.”

Serizawa took the delicate bundle in reverence. “They are so lovely. I don’t know where I’ll put these though.”

“Well, I thought you might need them.”

“For what?” Serizawa looked back with genuine confusion.

A long sigh. Why did he expect such blatant signs to even be read? Minegishi put his elbows onto the counter and leaned down, resting his head in a hand.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“Well, the office could use come color.” Serizawa beamed. “So thank you! For everything.”

“Sure thing.”

Minegishi waved after the man, sincerely hoping things went well. The store returned to its empty state and he wandered into the back to start his research into fungus.

-----

Lunch break had long passed. Reigen Arataka sat at his desk, fingers steepled and eyes staring ahead, their focus avoiding what they truly wanted to look at. In front of him sat a cheap vase he had found in one of the drawers that now contained a vibrant mixture of sweet smelling flowers.

Serizawa sat happily working away at his desk.

What did this mean. How could he act so nonchalant. Bringing such an expensive bouquet like it was any other day of the week.

‘These will help bring color to the office!’

Yeah. Ok. Sure. He is just SITTING THERE what do I even do. Should I get him something back? Maybe chocolates? Or is that too brash. I mean it’s still less brash than ROSES. Is this because of the last movie night, us sitting on his couch together sharing popcorn.

Ugh. No. Stop thinking so much into this. Just get up and walk over there. Say some things. Don’t know what yet.

“Reigen-san, are you alright?”

Reigen jolted up, his back now straight. “FINE! Perfectly fine. Just lost in thought is all.” He waved a hand at his desk. “Coming up with new advertisement ideas for the business.”

“Oh. Alright.” HOW DID HE HAVE SUCH A CUTE SMILE. “Well you missed two phone calls. I thought maybe something had happened.”

“Ah, worry not!” Reigen fumbled, leaning back in his chair as it squeaked. “They were just spam calls.”

Serizawa gave a nod and returned to his papers. Taking an inhale and holding it, Reigen stared at the flowers. Maybe sleep on it. Take some time to understand the meaning behind it all. Too late. He rose to unsteady legs, mouth opening before his brain could catch up.

“Say, wanna hang out at the end of the week? Maybe I can come over again and watch movies.”

Serizawa beamed back. “Sure! I only have one class Friday night so I will be home probably around 6pm. How does that sound?”

Fuck fuck fuck. “Perfect.”

“Good! I can show you my new plants!”

Reigen blinked a few times and his train of thought never managed to get back on the rails for the rest of the work day.

[iibonniee]

Day 6 | Son Hyunwoo

Paring: Son Hyunwoo x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: none

Rating: G

Word Count: 1.1k

Prompt: Potluck

Masterlist

Tags: @doveslittlekpoparchive @choicethot @xosunny @heaviihamonii

It was to no surprise that Hyunwoo had agreed to accompany her to her company’s annual Christmas potluck. She had merely thrown the idea onto the table while they were doing their mundane activities - cleaning if she could remember correctly - and she completely forgot about what they were talking about that caused the whole conversation or resulted in him agreeing to join her. Even as the dust particles swirled around in dappled sunlight, the casual way Hyunwoo had accepted her invitation was etched deep in her memory.

They had been working in tandem that day, moving around their shared apartment, brandishing feather dusters like weapons against an age-old foe - house dust. She could still recall how Hyunwoo’s broad shoulders flexed, his sleeves rolled up to his drenched elbows, and his handsome face contorted in intense focus as he tried to rid their bookshelf of the stubborn dust and grime.

Amidst their friendly bickering about who caused more dust in the apartment and the shared laughter when Hyunwoo nearly knocked over a succulent, she had casually tossed in a joke: “You should come to the Christmas potluck with me this year,” she had said, “keep me from eating all the desserts by myself.”

The statement carried more weight than it seemed – it was a semi-serious invitation for Hyunwoo to enter her professional world, a world that largely remained separate from their intimate bubble. But she had said it with a levity that belied the seriousness behind those words. So, when Hyunwoo glanced her way and grinned, agreeing without missing a beat, she was surprised.

“Oh, really? Well, I suppose I can’t let you devour all the good food alone,” he had retorted lightly, yet the sincerity in his eyes touched her deeply. His support for her, even in the smallest of things, made her feel cherished and loved like nothing else.

And just like that, amidst motes of floating dust and a symphony of cleaning tools, a promise was made – a promise of companionship, support, and shared laughter that encapsulated not only this mundane Saturday morning but also the upcoming excitement of the company Christmas potluck.

But that Saturday came far too quickly for her to say it was okay, and soon enough, she found herself parked outside her company’s building with a bag of goodies. Her inhale was slightly shaky, knowing that Hyunwoo had never met any of her co-workers and vice versa. She would love to deny the box for them to believe he existed. But here he was, by her side, his confident smile warming her like the woolen scarfs she loved to wrap herself up in during winter.

As expected, the moment they walked into the party together, audible gasps and whispers echoed around the room, making her chuckle. She saw the disbelief on her co-workers’ faces, their eyes flashing from her to Hyunwoo, attempting to match the man beside her with the stories she’d shared over water-cooler chats.

Their shared cleaning escapades she’d described seemed too mundane for a man who seemingly radiated sophistication and charm, even in a crowd of strangers. Yet the very same charm Hyunwoo unleashed upon them was the same she had come to love during their cozy apartment cleans or simple movie binges with snacks on the side. She’d describe how he’d critically eye the grime on their bookshelf, his sleeves rolled up, a determined sparkle in his eyes that made her heart race. Or just how passionate he was about his job. That said, she attempted to hide just in case her co-workers knew of his group.

What they hadn’t realized was that the menial daily activities and his support during them drew her more than any grandiose display of affection. There was a sentimental touch in his every gesture, such as the times when he’d lovingly promised to keep her from eating all the desserts at the potluck. This joke held so much more sentiment now as her co-workers finally met the man who was very real and very much hers.

“So, this is Hyunwoo, the much-talked-about yet unseen boyfriend?” Hwan asked, casting a sideways glance at him as her colleague slid up to her, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.

Y/N nodded, a smile breaking out across her face as she observed Hyunwoo. He was now in line for the food, plate in his hands, a boyish look of excitement spreading over his features as he gazed at the selection of dishes.

Hwan laughed lightly, “He certainly looks like he’s enjoying himself.”

“Yes, he always gets this way around food,” she replied, her gaze fond. She could only chuckle at that, watching as Hyunwoo generously heaped his plate with various foods, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

There was something endearing about seeing him so eager, his aura infecting those around him and infusing the room with a joyful energy. Watching him, she couldn’t help smiling. She’s finally showing her routine world, her colleagues, a little part of the magic of Hyunwoo, which had been limited to their shared little corner until now.

She glanced back at Hwan and noticed his mouth held a slight open awe. Subtly nudging him, she joked, “Try not to stare.”

The following laughter filling their space just reaffirmed her point; Hyunwoo wasn’t just real; he was a spectacle, one that she was lucky enough to enjoy beyond these four walls.

Everyone seemed to be drawn to Hyunwoo’s charisma as the evening progressed. His genuine interest in the stories he heard and the way he’d laugh freely at funny antidotes enhanced the lively atmosphere.

Amid the fun, Hyunwoo’s gaze would fall back on her from time to time, his smile reaching his eyes as if the potluck had become a private joke they both enjoyed. That connection that spanned across the room made everything even more special to her.

By the end of the evening, it was evident to everyone that Hyunwoo was far from a mere figment of her imagination but a vibrant presence in her life. They saw his charm, felt his infectious laughter, and undoubtedly, his respect and love for her.

“Did your co-workers have enough of me yet?” He asked, wrapping an arm around her as the party began to wind down, his eyes soft but dancing with mischief.

She laughed fondly, looking up at him, “I think you made quite an impression.”

“Hopefully, a good one,” Hyunwoo replied, his arm squeezing her gently.

“Very good,” she reassured him, reaching up to kiss his cheek sweetly. She could feel the eyes of her colleagues on them, but none of that mattered because, in that room filled with people, they were in their own world. A precious bubble that included just her and Hyunwoo – very real and very much hers.

And just like that, amidst the chatter and laughter-filled room, the potluck turned out to be an evening that neither she nor her colleagues would forget. It was the night the ‘imaginary’ Hyunwoo became a defining part of her life’s storyboard, shown to an audience beyond their little corner, yet still magically theirs.

[himebushou]

Anticipation

It’s hard to get Yuzuko to take things easy: she is pregnant and she is bored.

More than once, Kazuki has woken up in the middle of the night to discover his wife fussing over yarn or rearranging jars in the cupboard. “Don’t they look nicer this way?” she’d asked innocently, as though it were perfectly acceptable to be awake at 4 am lining up sauces, pickles and jams from lightest-to-darkest.  “It’s like a little rainbow.” 

Ignoring her protests, he’d taken Yuzuko’s shoulders and steered her away. 

She takes little trips to the park.  Ambles along to the convenience store.  She almost always returns with plants – another tiddly succulent to stash beside the TV, or a solitary stem to plop in the vase that sits on their dining table.  Kazuki doesn’t mind.  The yellows and purples and blues that Yuzuko fills their home with contrast sharply against the blood on his hands.  He likes the distinction. 

He’ll have to stop, when the baby gets here.  Lying to Yuzuko is getting harder.  Every morning, he leaves the house wearing a suit.  He returns at an appropriate time.  Over dinner, he makes excuses about how he’s spent so long wilting in the office that he can’t possibly bear to recount his day.  However, Yuzuko’s desperate for entertainment and wheedles the occasional story out of him.  Kazuki goes into overdrive, inventing colleagues – there’s Kyuusuke, his desk-mate who wears glasses and Yatarou, a guy who used to run a café before he moved into corporate management.  Every so often, Kazuki loses track of which of the pair said what.  Yuzuko scratches her ear and says that Kazuki’s clearly overworked. Why else wouldn’t he be able to keep his stories straight? 

He’ll have to stop. 

For sure.

Yuzuko’s changing.  She hates the taste and texture of her own cooking; she sighs dreamily when they pass fancy restaurants and then catches herself with a jolt.  Patting Kazuki’s arm, she murmurs that she wasn’t trying to drop hints: she knows that they couldn’t afford to eat in establishments like that. 

Dutifully, Kazuki pats his wife in return, thinking about the envelope of money stashed in a secret drawer.  He has no choice but to ration out his earnings.  Yuzuko would have too many questions if they could suddenly afford everything they need, like a cot and a pram and a steriliser. Better for Yuzuko to think that they’re getting by with a little left over.  Safer for her to believe that he needs a promotion to make a real difference. 

There are… things that he can do. 

He watches online tutorials, between jobs.  Spends a week practising in the kitchen when Karin whisks her sister away for a much-needed trip to their parents’ house. There are all sorts of tips.  Crack eggs on a flat surface.   Crush garlic cloves instead of chopping them.  Turn bell peppers upside-down to slice them with ease.  Press tofu for at least thirty minutes so that the marinade can soak in. 

When Yuzuko returns, she swears that she’ll never cook again. 

So Kazuki devotes himself to perfection.  He prompts Yuzuko to stretch out on the sofa while he wipes, scrubs, dusts, vacuums.  Yuzuko has the temerity to point to a fleck of dirt and sing, “You missed a spot!” Kazuki flings a damp sponge at her and they both laugh. 

He’ll have to stop.  He already had hundreds of skills and he’s constantly learning more and more.  He can work as a cleaner (as a chef, at this rate).  Become a chauffeur.  Live life as an ethical hacker.  He and Yuzuko will be there for their baby forever and the only blood in the little one’s future will be the odd papercut or scraped knee. 

It’s June.  Rainy season.  Hydrangea season.  Kazuki’s favourite time of year.  He places his ear against Yuzuko body and listens closely, swearing that he can hear a heartbeat – hear it knocking against his own.  Yuzuko says softly that the baby can’t wait to meet him. 

Kazuki doesn’t tell her that Yuzuko’s words make him want to cry.  Imagine someone… imagine someone wanting to meet him. 

He’ll stop by Yadorigi later and let Kyuu-chan know that it’s time to get out. 

One last job.