#you get One Character. better like them. you can only slightly change the flavor. nothing else

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

another day on tumblr reading another post that implies im a miserable racist bigot for thinking i would perhaps like some role playing variety in my role playing game

[ithinkabouttzu]

If you feel like it, could you write this: Joe Toye x reader with glasses. Imagine meeting Joe Toye for the first time at a park. You've lost your glasses, and he helps you find them. After you get them back, he asks you out.

A Walk in the park || Joe Toye

a/n: thank you so much for this cute request! I’m sorry it took so long to put together but I hope you enjoy! 🤍

Word count: 1k

genre: romance

Description: When you lose your glasses while reading your book, a nice stranger helps you find them.. in exchange for a date.

taglist: @executethyself35 @linhkhanhcps @1waveshortofashipwreck @grumpy-liebgott @barbeygirl @samwinchesterslostshoe @ronsenthal @sweetxvanixlla @mstiemountainhop @imaginethatneathuh @goodluckbabeheffron @resting-distressed-face @bossboudicca (If you want to be on this list, let me know!! :))

BoB masterlist

You could feel the sun hitting your back as the light afternoon quickly went by. The leaves in town had started to turn various shades of red, yellow, and brown due to the drop and temperature and sunlight. You could smell a variety of coffee drinks that most likely were flavored with Pumpkin, Apple, or Caramel as certain groups walked past you, cup in hand.

It was finally Autumn. The weather felt perfect, nothing felt better than reading one of your favorite books outside at the park to enjoy the nice change of climate. It seemed a lot of others also enjoyed the change. Friends walked along the walking trail, talking about whatever new gossip had arisen within their group, couples had cute picnics in the grass, enjoying each other, and families played games with their loved ones with the occasional addition of a family dog.

It all seemed to work so in-sync. Then there was you, reading your book, and glancing at the other people enjoying their time every so often. The book of yours had just gotten good, the main character had just revealed their big secret to the other supporting characters. The more you read, you could feel your eyes start to blur the small words all together. No matter how hard you squeezed your eyes together, you couldn’t see a thing. You figured you had finally needed your glasses.

It was a bad habit of yours, forgetting to wear them while you read. Only remembering once your eyes started to give out. You checked in your purse first. It wasn't there, so you looked around the bench you were sitting on. Not there either. Searching high and low, they were nowhere to be found, it was as if they ran off somewhere without you knowing.

“Lookin’ for something?” You heard a male voice in front of you. You didn’t think he was talking to you until he repeated the question.

“Oh sorry, I just lost my glasses.” You explained to the man. As you told him what happened, you took a second to take a look at him. His features were dark and masculine. He looked tough, physically and mentally. His eyes were dark and cold at first and warmed up once you answered him.

“What’d they look like? I can help you if ya want.” He gave you a sheepish smile while he asked. “Please” you replied back almost immediately, needing the help. “You from here?” “Sure thing, born and raised.” You replied back while standing up to look for your glasses, seeing if maybe they were under you.

“No kiddin’. I just moved here for work. Originally from Pennsylvania.” He replied back to you quickly. Both of you sat down. Your glasses weren’t here. No reason in continuing to look for something that practically disappeared.

“Pennsylvania huh? I bet it’s pretty there this time of year.” You could only imagine the bright arrangement of leaves that surrounded the state. “Yeah, it's nice, but it sure is pretty here too.” he shrugged his shoulders slightly while making himself comfortable beside you. “I’ll have to go up and visit in the future, see the leaves for myself.” He chuckled at your response, his gaze lingered a little longer than usual. You felt your heart beat faster at his glance.

“So what kinda work brought you here?” You asked, curious to know more about this mysterious man. “I heard the construction business was good over here, decided i’d give it a try. Names Joe by the way.” He finished off his sentence with an introduction that was long overdue. You laughed at the randomness of it. You exchanged your name with him before he spoke up.

“ So born and raised here?” I take it you've got some favorite spots around town then?” Joe gave you a friendly smile while he asked his question. “Definitely. There's this one cafe down the block from here that has hands down the best pastries and coffee. It's like a little corner of heaven.” You laughed at yourself, realizing how silly that came out, but your love of the special coffee couldn’t go unnoticed. “Really? I’ve really been looking for somewhere to get my caffeine fix. When I make my own, it just doesn’t taste the same.” You smiled at his response.

It felt good to make friends with another coffee lover like yourself. “What's the name of this special cafe?” He gave you a look as if he wanted to know more. “Moody Brews, it's one of the best.” You answered his question with full seriousness. “Mood Brews? Sounds fancy, I think I'll have to try out this place sometime.” As he said that, a strong breeze passed through the park, giving you a chill.

In reaction to the cold wind, you put your hands in the pocket of your jacket. “No way.” you heard his voice chime in disbelief. “What?” you replied, thinking something bad had happened. After asking the question, his hand bent down to pick up your glasses from an arrangement of leaves that had been by your foot. The glasses must have blended in with the leaves. You put your hand to your face in shock. He laughed when he saw your reaction. “They were there the whole time?” You asked him before joining his laugh. He palmed his face jokingly before sitting up. l”Here ya go glasses, try to keep them closer to ya next time, will you?” He said jokingly, handing the glasses to you. You assumed it was the beginning of his departure. “Thank you for helping me look for these.” You said to Joe, raising up your glasses to him. “No problem. And about that cafe, would you wanna go sometime together? We can see which flavor is really the best.” He said in a laugh but you could hear the nervousness in his voice. You felt your heart rush again with excitement. “Sure, Saturday morning sound good?” “Sounds good to me. See you then, Glasses. Saturday morning.” He reminded you before continuing his departure. Maybe finding a relationship could be a walk in the park.

[docholligay]

The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch

Nonspoilery: This is a super fun read that is very much in keeping with how I like my fantasy. I wish it were slightly more on the con man side, but I recognize that those are very difficult to write because one needs to actually be clever enough to come up with the insanely clever plan that unfolds, and, you know what, I'm not there either. But it absolutely is a fun crimey fantasy novel, well written that expects you can actually follow a line of description and maybe even look up a big word, that tries very hard not to bore you with needing to refer to a glossary or map.

I will say, and I'll talk about this more below: There are basically no women in this novel. it's a little disappointing. I still overall think it's worth it if you like this sort of thing though.

SPOILERS BELOW:

THIS is the kind of thing pitchless draw was made for. You could not have talked me into reading this book. Unless you possess an incredible skill--I'm not sure *I* could have talked me into reading this book, and supposedly no one knows me better.

But I did really enjoy myself. This is a flat out FUN novel, that doesn't mind being long but never feels long. I LOVED the long bits of description in this book, I BEG for flavor in some many modern novels that strip away anything that isn't an immediate moving of the ball. Actually, one of the things I would say that's not a criticism so much as a preference, is that I feel like this book, and probably this writer, remembering his short story from Rogues, is more plot-driven than character driven. I am a girl who loves a really interior novel, and this isn't that, but it did not stop me from having a GREAT time. It's a romp.

I like Locke, and his whole backstory. I wish he were a woman. Specifically, I would love to see a femme con artist, second coming of Minako Aino, Becky Sharp ass bitch. THAT would be my dream for Locke Lamora. And I know my friends who have read this book all want butch Locke and I love that for you, and I know y'all have known me long enough to know I love a butch, but I deserve a treat as well, and I LOVE con artists, and goddamnit, if I could change one thing about this novel, Locke Lamora would be a femme lesbian and I would change NOTHING else. You wouldn't even have to. One fo the great things about Lynch not being a real interior writer is literally any of the mains could be a woman and it would change nothing.

This does segue into the big problem here--there's no women in this novel. It's a 700 page book and I could condense the lines said by women into like two or three pages. I actually DO get it. I think we're reaping a little bit of what we've sown, as a community, with the requirement for perfection in our representation that leads to very boring and safe choices. Everyone is a man. We're only swarthy at best. Can't be criticized for bad identity writing if you don't write them at all! ANd this isn't me being salty, I get how that happens, I have also sometimes fallen into making any character of identity boring as fuck or not writing them at all to avoid any criticism. And no one cares about ME, I'm not a best seller. I do think, maybe, people will get better about this. Pendulums and all. I miss the awkward, good faith 90s where you had the United Colors of Benetton and one character who randomly celebrated Hanukkah. We'll see.

ANYHOW NOT RELEVANT. But I do find it irritating that because of this, we don't see women in this huge story at all. None of the gang, even though it would have been easy as fuck to make, say, Bug a girl. Even doing something like making Nazca Barsavi the actual heir apparent, and to have her marrying Locke because she knows he won't try to be Capa, and she'll let him do whatever the fuck he wants, can play the henpecked husband while being the Thorn of Camorr, could be really fun and would do more for Nazca and also play up their friendship. It could make her death mean a lot more, if they were running their own little Barsavi con.

Anyhow, the really fantastic behind the scenes worldbuilding was how I wish more fantasy novels did it. It didn't often try to explain things to me, it spoke as if I mostly understood them, or had cahracters say them in ways that made sense to the story (In this capacity, Lukas Fehrwright is fucking BRILLIANT as Someone That Must Have Camorr Explained). So I didn't feel like I was being sat down and told the history of a place I barely know, while having stupid fucking vocabulary words thrown at me. We never define any physik or magic beyond what needs be done because fuck you that's why. I love it. Thank you for not telling me what alchemical botany can or can't do. Thank you for dropping literally only what I need to kjnow about wraithstone into the plot. You have a crown in heaven.

Or I know I said I wish it would have been more con-ny and less "kill the new mob boss" at the end there, but oh my fuck, how much did I love the whole job at the counting house. I SCREAMED. It was so good, I had no clue where it was going the whole time and I would never have gotten there, but I LOVED it. What a great time.

One...weakness, for me, I guess I'll say, is that lack of interiority makes it hard to really feel the weight of some things. We don't get enough about Galdo, Calo, or Bug to feel anything for them, and I knew Bug was dead from the time he showed up. Actually, I thought we were going to kill jean Tannen, because that was the only relationship REALLY laden with emotional weight in the book. Didn't bother me enough to not recommend the book, as I'm mostly recommending it on fun, but I did notice.

ANYWAY, uh...any specific questions I'm happy to take!

Unfortunately, this means that @verbforverb nabbed me again. So, I had a great time reading the book but at what cost

[witch-hazels-musings]

Requests are still open? If so, how about zhongli or kaeya with a GN reader that has trouble falling asleep? (bonus points if they look drowsy during daytime)

^ with the time change I’m feeling really sleepy most of the day. I would love for Zhongli to make me a cup of tea ... like I bet it's a treat. 

Warning -> none :) 

How about some tea?

Includes: Zhongli, Kaeya 

Character X GN reader  |  Anthology

Zhongli 

There is something about this man's level of knowledge and insight into the things around him that’s incredible - somehow he knows the strangest of things while nothing of the simplest of things 

Ask him the price of a common item, he has no idea, but ask him why the sun dances across the sky and he will tell you a tale long forgotten to the sands of time 

So it’s both surprising and not that he knows something is strange about you 

“Your demeanor looks strange.” He states with his hand against his chin and head slightly tilted. 

“Oh, uh. Yeah, I just had a hard time sleeping last night is all.” You wave him away and continue with your task. You had started early with it, since you couldn’t sleep, and were nearly done. 

“If you’d like, I could brew you some tea with valerian root. It has an interesting flavor, but will suffice.” He hasn’t really moved from his place throughout your whole conversation. He’s almost like a statue, one hand at his chin, the other resting against the small of his back. 

“Uh, maybe.” You grab the large bag of items and lift it into your arms. You let out a sigh at its weight and try to shift it until it rests more comfortably in your arms. “I’ll get back to you.” With a warm smile, you give him a quick nod and head off. 

You look back at him and he is still standing there, just as he was before. 

Zhongli is a person who will keep his promises no matter what, even if you aren’t sure you created a promise with him

He can be very persistent and often takes people at their word - so when you see him show up later that day with all the material needed for a nice cup of tea, you shouldn’t be shocked 

“Zhongli?” You stand with your hand on your door and the other in your hair. You had returned only shortly before he arrived and thought a nice shower would help refresh your mind. 

“I was able to acquire the root I mentioned earlier today.” He’s just standing there, totally deadpan and serious. It makes you laugh. 

“You didn’t need to go out of your way for that.” You say through laughter, the lightness of it lifting the atmosphere. 

“I do recall I said I would brew you tea.” 

“Yes, you did. Come in.” 

You watch as he enters your home, something he hasn’t done very often. The two of you always found each other on the streets or walking along the harbor. Your relationship had always been friendly, and you enjoyed spending time with him. Truthfully, you longed for the relationship to be more. It somehow felt so domestic to see him moving through your kitchen with ease as if he’d lived there for years. 

You sit at the counter and watch as he nimbly gets everything ready. The way he cuts the root into small pieces, the way he collects water in the teapot and sets it over the stove. The skillful way he organizes the loose leaves of the tea he’s brought which, you knew, would complement nicely with the valerian. 

You enjoyed watching him as he prepared the tea. The simple process turned into an elegant orchestra of movement and execution. Once the water was at the right temperature, he poured the liquid into the cup and you watched as it turned a playful yellow. 

Elegantly, he placed a saucer before you before resting the cup quietly in its place. You take in the fragrance and catch the hint of wood and sweet flowers. 

“Do enjoy.” He gestured before following the same process to pour his own. 

You bring the liquid to your lips and are surprised at how perfect the water temperature is. As the contents fill your mouth, you immediately sense the earthy taste. It’s overpowering, but only for a moment. Once the initial aroma passes there is a relief of sweetness and floral, which is quite refreshing. 

“This is …” you pull your gaze from your cup before continuing, “kinda awesome.” 

“And it is much better when spent in good company.” There is a warm smile on his face and you wonder if the liquid was making you warm or if it was him. 

“I appreciate you doing this. It was nice of you.” 

“My pleasure. I could sense you were in need of something.” 

“I’ve just had a hard time sleeping lately, well, really most of the time.” You take another sip of the warm liquid. 

“Mmm, perhaps there is something plaguing you?” 

“Ha, not really. I’ve just always had a hard time sleeping at night. My mind won’t turn off I guess.” The soothing smell of the tea is starting to make your head heavy. 

“If this aids you, then I am happy to teach you how to make it. Or do so myself if you wish.” 

“Thank you, Zhongli.” You look back at the teacup and take a few more drinks before placing it on the saucer. Outside, you hear the citizens walking by and the distant shouting of those on the docks. Most of the time, you didn’t pay any attention to the sounds of the city, but today they seemed to be a soothing noise. Something about the way it all mixed and settled in your ears just felt right. 

“It must be working.” You catch his eyes and turn your head. For some reason, his eyes seem more powerful than normal. 

“It must be. I’m going to go rest on the couch for a minute.” 

“Please do, I will clean up here.” 

You settle into the couch and observe Zhongli from your place there. He’s already emptied your cup and cleaned it in the sink. His hands perfectly worked just the way he wanted them to. It feels like there are weights on your eyelids and it becomes harder and harder to keep them open. 

The last thing you see is Zhongli standing in your kitchen drinking his cup of tea as he looks out the window. 

Kaeya

He doesn’t let anything get past him, so he would definitely know something was up with you

“You look a little tired there.” Kaeya appeared out of thin air. You had been so distracted that you hadn’t noticed anything for a while. The passing of the time or the citizens walking from place to place, none of them registered. So when Kaeya’s face was suddenly before you and you caught his half-smile, you didn’t pay it much attention. 

“Do I?” Your head was fuzzy like someone had turned on the radio but all the channels were missing. This sensation had gotten so commonplace that you often ignored it too. 

“Yeah. Are you okay?” He leaned down, his smile gone and replaced with a concerned expression. 

“I’m okay. Thanks.” You try to give him a reassuring smile and hope he doesn’t worry. 

He watches as you walk away. There is something off about your steps, but he isn’t quite sure. 

He’d likely do his own background investigation to figure out what is troubling you. He’s ready to tackle any problem no matter the size in order to bring back your more cheery disposition 

When he finds out that it’s because you have trouble sleeping he gets to work. He’s asking the alchemists to come up with a potion, he goes to the church to see if the healers can assist in any way, he might even try some non-conventional tactics to help you sleep 

After many days of rain, the sun had started to return to the city. There was a cool chill that ran across your arms and the back of your neck as you bent down to pour out the excess water from the plants. I should probably replace this with some dry dirt, you think to yourself as the water spreads across the cobblestone. 

When you finish, you watch as the other citizens pass by. A few wave and some just keep on about their day. A few drops of cold water fall on your face and make you jump as it runs down your cheek. 

“Hello, again.” A familiar voice calls out to you and when you look, you see Kaeya confidently making his way toward you. 

“Hello.” You return and wipe the raindrops off of your face. You’re reminded how tall his when he stops but a few inches in front of you and stares down at you.

“Heading out now that the rain has stopped?” His hand is on his hip and he’s wearing his dashing smile. 

“Yeah, I was thinking of returning some books to the Library. I’m sure Lisa isn’t pleased I haven’t returned them yet.” 

“I’ll accompany you.” 

“You sure?” You give him a quizzical look. He’s always so busy, it’s strange for him to have extra time to spare. 

“Of course.” 

“Okay, well let me grab the books.” He waits patiently outside until you return, books in hand.

He’s a man with a plan, and he’s going to enact that plan 

He may have a pleasant smile plastered to his face, but he always has something working in the background, shifting in the shadows 

Somehow he has convinced you to visit his office. You aren’t sure how he convinced you, the conversation you had with him didn’t seem to discuss anything about having a cup of tea, and especially not in his office. 

“Thanks for the drink, it smells delicious.” You let the warm vapors run across your face and breath in the sweet smell. 

“Please take your time.” He sits in the chair next to you, his leg resting on his knee and his back against the plush cushion. 

You sit for a while and listen to the sounds of the room. The way the wind slides over the glass window, the sounds of footsteps walking through the hallways, voices of the knights growing and fading as they accomplish their tasks. The atmosphere starts to make you drowsy and you close your eyes for a minute, the warm cup resting on your legs. 

“You seem relaxed now.” You hear his voice and open your eyes again. 

“Yeah, there is something comforting about this place. I’m not sure why.” 

“Probably because I’m here.” You chuckle at his comment and take another sip of tea. When there are only a few drinks left you placed the cup back onto the saucer before preparing yourself to leave. 

“Well, thanks again.” You start to get up but he stops you. He’s grabbing your shoulder and ushering you down onto the couch. 

“You should rest.” 

“Huh, I don’t need to?” You try to sit back up, but he continues to push you down. 

“Yes, you do. I can tell how tired you are. When was the last time you slept.” 

“Kaeya, you’re being silly.” 

“When was the last time?” He asks again, sitting on the coffee table and crossing his arms. 

“... I don’t know … I tried to get some sleep last night but It didn’t really work.” You feel the soft cushion of the couch under you. It smells like Kaeya and it's pulling you in. 

“I have some more things to do, but you are welcome to rest here.” 

“I have a house…” 

“Yes, but you already said this place was comforting.” He smirks at you, again somehow convincing you his way is the best way. 

“I won’t fall asleep.” You retort, rubbing your eyes. 

“Just give it a try.” He stands up and you follow him with your gaze. You watch as he grabs a blanket and starts to unravel it over you. It’s thick and extremely soft. “Now, close your eyes.” 

“I’m telling you …” 

“Mmhm, just be good and do it.” 

Your eyes track him as he makes his way to his desk. The sun is hitting his back and the color of blue reflects against the wall. You blink a few times. The blanket is so warm and the pillow is just right. You close your eyes for just a few seconds, I definitely won’t fall asleep, you think to yourself before you slip into a world of pleasant dreams.

[arvandus]

Icarus (Overhaul x F!Reader)

Ah yes, once again so late on this. This one gave me grief because the characters kept deviating from what I had originally planned. >.< But I worked through it, and here we are.

This is for the BNHarem's “On The Job” Collab for May, which you can find here.

Also, don’t judge my super simple title headings for my fics 😂 I always do these late at night when I should be asleep, so generic background with fancy text is the best I got to offer.

Trigger Warnings: 18+ ONLY!  1 instance of aggression/abuse (hair grabbing/pulling - nonsexual), unprotected sex (fun in fiction, dumb IRL), mutual masturbation, overstimulation, bondage via quirk abuse, degradation...

I think that about covers it.  Once again, I’m terrible at TWs so let me know if I missed anything or if anything is inaccurate. 😬 I just kinda write what I want and don’t really think about the labels when I’m doing it.

Pairing: Overhaul x F!Reader

Word Count: 8281

You hadn’t meant to get caught.  Really, you weren’t even sure what had possessed you to do it in the first place. Desperation? Horniness? Stupidity?

 All of the above?

 All you knew was that it was a poor decision brought forth by the gradual culmination of a single annoying, unavoidable fact: you were disgustingly, shamefully, sinfully attracted to Kai Chisaki.

You weren’t exactly sure how or when it started. There was no “aha” moment, no “big bang” of desire.  Instead, it was subtle, gradually coating your unsuspecting mind like layers of sediment. A shiver down your spine when he spoke your name.  The quickening of your pulse at the briefest of eye contact. And the ever-growing presence of intrusive, curious thoughts.

 Like his hands.  You always noticed them, the white of his gloves drawing your attention like a beacon whenever he was within eyesight.  They were dangerous hands, deadly weapons that you’d seen in action firsthand.  They were a thing to be feared and avoided.  But some strange part of you couldn’t help but wonder... what did they feel like?  You imagined they’d be soft and perfectly manicured, oddly delicate for such a violent man; gentle hands packed with destructive power.

 Or his lips.  They were always covered by his mask.  You never, ever saw him without it.  You imagined what your name would look like on them as he spoke, how they’d feel on your skin.  Would his lips also be soft? How about his kisses? Would they be cautious and controlled, or rough and hungry?

 It didn’t help that he was, in his own way, very attractive.  Just like how his dangerous hands were hidden within innocent white gloves, he was the devil hidden behind a pretty face. A sharp, beautiful jawline. Smooth porcelain skin. A crown of auburn red hair, closely cropped, but still long enough to run fingers through.

 You bet that part of him was soft too.

 The one part of him that wasn’t soft were his eyes.  They were beautiful, certainly… as gold as Heaven’s gates and framed in long, perfect lashes.  But they lacked the warmth of Heaven.  Instead, they spoke of cold arrogance. And if you stared into them long enough, you could see a barely contained disgust lurking beneath their haughty exterior.

 The disgust didn’t bother you, not anymore.  Everyone disgusted Chisaki, and everyone in the Shie Hassaikai knew it. He even made his closest confidants, some he’d known since childhood, wear masks so he wouldn’t share the same air with them.  

 He had you wear a mask too, of course. Simple and white, it covered only your lower face, much like his own.  That much you were grateful for, considering some of the masks you’d seen others wearing.  Your only explanation for the slightly less coverage was that your secretarial position made you a frequent point of contact for those outside of the organization.  You handled incoming calls, visitors, and scheduled meetings between Chisaki and his affiliates.  No doubt he wanted to ensure you were making a good impression while still operating within his mysophobic requirements.

 First impressions were everything to Kai.  Even more so since he took the Boss’s place under dubious circumstances. Still, his long-held reputation for extremist thinking and violence preceded him, and not everyone was in support of his unexpected promotion.  As a result, many people within the organization parted ways following Chisaki’s rise to power... and soon after they mysteriously went missing, never to be heard from or located again.  You had no doubt that it was Chisaki tying up loose ends by sealing loose lips.  After all, they say the mouth is the source of disaster.  And Chisaki valued confidentiality above all else.

 The message he sent was clear: adapt or die.  When given such colorful options, the choice on whether to go or stay became a simple one.

 So, you adapted.  As long as you followed orders, kept your eyes down and your mouth shut, you were safe. After all, it was better to be the right hand of the devil than to be in his path.  The only person you really had to fear was Chisaki himself, and you knew him well enough by now to know how to stay on his good side.

 And all in all, it really wasn’t all that bad.  Sure, you had to orchestrate the occasional clean-up when he disposed of someone who displeased him.  But that wasn’t much different than what you’d dealt with when you worked for the Boss, either.  Sure, the aftermath was messier and it happened far more often.  But violence was violence, and when you worked with the Yakuza long enough, you got used to it.  And despite the odd working conditions and ever-present undertone of danger, you remained good at your job. As such, Chisaki brooked no complaint. He tolerated you, and you tolerated him. Interactions were brief, words exchanged were polite and respectful even though they lacked warmth.  But it was just a job, right?  You didn’t need warmth.

 So why did you feel so dissatisfied?  Why did you constantly feel that something was missing, a longing you couldn’t entirely describe?

 The need only ever waned when Chisaki was in your presence, whether it was to discuss upcoming meetings or simply passing by your desk to get to his office. The dissatisfaction would melt away into a warmth that extended deep into your fingertips whenever the cold-hearted man bothered to look you in the eyes. And when he wasn’t looking at you? It was like being thrown into a winter blizzard, the aching cold returning to pull the corners of your mouth down into a silent frown.

 You craved his attention.  It was shameful and pathetic and you could only imagine the scorn he’d give you if he knew, but you didn’t care.  To be graced with the attention of a man who cared for no one brought a different kind of satisfaction.  The rare treats of attention Chisaki did grant you, whether intended or not, scratched an itch that only he could scratch.

 As time passed, the intrusive thoughts became more frequent, evolving from odd curiosities to shameless lust.  They began to occupy your dreams, forcing you awake with a hot ache between your legs. That was when you really began to realize how in deep you were.  It wasn’t just a simple “attraction.”  You wanted him.  At first you tried to deny and ignore, suppress and excuse.  After all, this was Overhaul.  Wanting him was like wanting the sun in your hand, and just as dangerous. Apparently though, it made little difference to your hormone-addled brain.  It didn’t help that the secretive, forbidden thoughts brought their own special addictive flavor of the taboo.  

 You began to act different in front of him.  Nothing too obvious, of course.  After all, you knew Chisaki wasn’t the type to indulge in desperate women. To be honest, you weren’t even sure Chisaki indulged in women at all.  All you did know was that whenever women tried to gain his favor through flirtation, Chisaki quickly and harshly shut it down.

 So, it was little things... the extra second to release a paper from your grip after he’d grabbed it, the lingering of a glance.  You didn’t so much change the style of your attire – skirts and blouses were already the norm for your position – but you changed the colors. A blouse that matched the purple feathery softness of his jacket, golden jewelry that matched his eyes.  Little messages waiting in secret to be picked up, yet subtle enough that they could be excused as nothing more than coincidence. It was risky, but the thrill of the game gave you an outlet for your roiling feelings.  In the end though, it made no difference.  There was nothing about you that seemed important enough to turn Chisaki’s head more than was professionally necessary.

 Which is where the state of things were when you found yourself alone in his office one evening. You had thought he was still working at the time. You’d stepped away to shred some incriminating documents and burn the scraps in the kiln outside.  It was your last task for the day, so you’d entered Chisaki’s office to announce your departure for the evening.  Except when you entered, the space was empty, with all traces of him gone.  No papers remained on his desk.  His gloves and plague mask were gone.  With an annoyed huff you had stood there, bothered that you’d missed him.

 Quietly, you walked to his desk, and gently caressed the mahogany wood.  It was immaculate of course, free of dirt and fingerprints.  You knew it would be because he cleaned his space every evening before he left, and you cleaned it every morning before he arrived.

 You sighed as you retrieved the paper towels and cleaning solution.  No harm in giving it a second scrub to save yourself some time tomorrow morning. It wasn’t like anyone would be foolish enough to enter this space without Chisaki present anyway.

 You should have just left it at that.  But as you walked around his desk to wipe the surface with the damp towel, your bare legs just below your skirt bumped his chair. Soft leather, still warm from where he had sat, greeted your exposed skin.

 That should have been your first clue.

 But your mental alarms never sounded.  Instead, you figured you had just missed him.

 You should have just left, but you didn’t. The warmth on the chair was enticing you. He was gone, right?  Left for the evening.  What harm could it do to indulge just a little bit?  With your heart pounding with excitement, you carefully sat down in the warm leather. Immediately the scent of Chisaki’s body wash and clean clothes cradled you.

 That should have been your second clue.

 But you were already too wrapped up in your enjoyment.  You relished in the sensations, leaning back as you closed your eyes.  It was the closest you’d ever felt to him, as if his very presence was there with you. Your desire purred deep in your gut at receiving its first nibble of satisfaction.  If you closed your eyes, you could pretend he was there, holding you.

 Your kept your eyes closed as your imagination began to take root like weeds in your mind, making your skin feel hot.  Your fingers grazed the inside of your thigh, dipping beneath your skirt while your heart pounded.  What if those were his fingers?  The vision combined with the sensations of touch and smell were delicious, and you wanted more.  You dragged the pads of your fingertips up even higher, your arm starting to push your skirt up with it.  Your legs parted easily, as you let out a shaky breath.

 You shouldn’t be doing this.  Not here of all places.  But there was something so sinfully satisfying about it, the danger only heightening the sensations.  After all, the reward was only as great as the risk it took to earn it.  And this was the highest risk you could take, short of literally throwing yourself at him.  Besides, it wasn’t like your fantasies were ever going to come true. Maybe satisfying yourself - right here, right now – would be enough to finally give you the peace of mind you needed.

 And dear God, did you need it.  You could already feel the heat growing in your loins, the moisture dampening your panties.  Your fingers finally brushed against the warm cotton fabric covering your sex and you let out a soft gasp.

 What Chisaki didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.  He was gone, right?  And you were going to clean up any traces of your little visit before you left.  He’d be none the wiser.

 Your fingers slipped beneath your underwear to meet the hot, slick flesh of your folds, your clit already plump and ready with arousal. You knew it wouldn’t take you long to cum, but you wanted to enjoy this, to savor it as the only opportunity you’d get.  You certainly weren’t going to do this again.

 So, you teased yourself, fingertips softly dragging slow circles around your entrance before dipping in.  A shaky moan left your lips, the quickening of your breaths matching the racing of your heart.  In and out you dragged your fingers, relishing in your sleek, sensitive walls, occasionally breaking your rhythm to spread your juices over your swollen labia. You revisited your clit and stifled your moan with a bite of your lip as you began to slowly massage it with practiced skill.  It felt so fucking good.  The scent of yourself mingled with the scent of Chisaki, and you spread your legs wider, leaning back farther into the seat.  You could feel the surge beginning to swell, and you knew it would be soon. Vivid fantasies danced on the inside of your eyelids, and you were fully enthralled, fingers skimming fast circles over your swollen bud as your other hand began to massage your breast through your blouse.

 “Fuuuuuckk....Kai....” You moaned.

 “What do you think you’re doing?”

 The familiar voice made you jump so hard, you nearly fell out of the chair as your eyes flew wide open.

 There was Kai Chisaki, staring down at you from across the desk – his desk. And there were you, sitting in his chair, spread eagle.

 Your breath was knocked out of you and you felt light-headed with panic.  You caught sight of the shoji screen behind him, wide open to the evening air.

 FUCK. Of course.  You forgot to check outside.  He must have stepped out for some fresh air before returning to his office.

 Shit. Shit, shit, shit.  You hadn’t heard him enter.  How long had he been standing there??

 “I asked you a question.” The man seethed through his plague mask.  His gloved hands were clenched into angry fists, and his eyes... eyes that you’d always craved to see you... well, they saw you now, and you were terrified.

 Immediately, you closed your legs and stood up from his chair. Your mouth babbled soundlessly before your voice finally came, tight and small.

 “I’m sorry.  I’m so so sorry.”

 “I didn’t ask for an apology.” He hissed.

 “I know, I’m sorry.” You blubbered.

 “Come. Here.” Chisaki demanded.

 You obeyed, struggling to adjust your skirt as you approached him from around his desk.

 “I didn’t tell you to touch your clothes.” His tone was quiet and constrained yet sharp as a razor’s edge, each word uttered with meticulous precision.

 You stared at him in shock as you slowly removed your hands from your rumpled clothing.  His eyes raked over you, top to bottom, and left you feeling... exposed.

 “Look at you...” he grumbled.  “Disgusting.”

 His mask was unnerving, blocking the lower half of his face and keeping you from being able to fully read his facial expression.  His gold eyes were threatening – predatory like a wolf.

 He was going to kill you.  You knew it was coming. He’d killed others for far less.  But you weren’t ready for it.  You didn’t want to die.

 You dropped to your knees and bowed low in front of him, shrinking yourself to fit beneath his harsh glare.  “Please, Mr. Chisaki-“

 “Overhaul.”

 “Overhaul!” you corrected, as you bowed your head lower to the ground. “Please forgive me.  I meant no disrespect.”

 “No disrespect?” he sneered.  “You debase yourself in my seat, my place of business, and claim no disrespect??”

 His left hand reached forward at lightning speed and grabbed you by your hair, forcing your head back until you were looking him straight up at him.  You winced against his harsh hold on you, yet clenched your teeth in an effort to keep your silence.  He glared down at you as his next words came out through what you could clearly hear as clenched teeth.  

 “Clean it up.”

 With that, he shoved you away from him. On shaking, clumsy legs you pushed yourself to your feet and made your way back to his desk, your skin hot with shame and your ears ringing.  

 You did as he commanded, grabbing the cleaning solution and spraying his seat before carefully, meticulously, wiping every inch of the rich leather.  Minutes passed in silence as you made sure that no spot went unnoticed, even ensuring that the table was once again cleaned as well. By the time you had finished, Kai’s temper seemed to have dwindled to a simmering flame.  His hands were no longer clenched in fists at his sides. Instead, they were tucked deep into his pockets as he supervised you.  It did little to comfort you though... you knew that Chisaki’s reflexes were faster than you could dodge.  He’d catch you before you even reached the door.

 Not that you’d try to.  You knew better.

 When the chair was finally pristine, you disposed of the last of the soiled paper towels in the wastebin and returned the cleaning solution to its home. The task was done, but you didn’t stop. You picked up the trash can with the intent of disposing of its contents; you knew Chisaki wouldn’t want it sitting in his office.  

 It was all to buy you time. Time to figure out what to say or what do to convince Chisaki to spare your life.  But you didn’t even make it to the door before Chisaki’s voice halted your retreat.

 “Where do you think you’re going?”

 “I... I was just...” you stammered.

 “I didn’t give you permission to leave.”

 You swallowed and set down the trashcan.  He approached you slowly, until he was a mere few inches from you. He was so close that you could smell his cleanliness and see the pupils of his eyes dilate as he stared at you.  Slowly, he grabbed the mask that was covering your mouth and nose and removed it from your head.  You stopped breathing.

 There was something... electric in the air.  You could feel it on your skin, making your hairs stand on end and your flesh tighten with goosebumps.  His eyes peered at you intently, taking in every subtlety of your face.  Your lips, your eyes, your skin... and beneath the weight of his stare, you could feel the fear start to transform, replaced by something else entirely.  Something familiar that’d been plaguing you for months, lighting your veins with fire and threatening to incinerate you if it wasn’t released.  After all, part of his allure was the danger. And he hadn’t killed you yet, which meant... something.

 Chisaki’s gaze began to wander beyond just your face, taking in your still rumpled clothes.  The top couple buttons of your blouse were undone, exposing the skin of your neck and the edges of your bra.  Your skirt was still askew, and although he couldn’t see it, you became acutely aware of your still-damp underwear trapped between your folds from when you had hastily closed your legs earlier.  You stared back at him, waiting for him to do something, say something.

 And that’s when you noticed it... a faint flush across his pale cheeks, peaking out from beneath his mask. His chest was rising and falling with each breath, and it was as if he were contemplating something, silently weighing a decision in his closed-off mind.

 A strange bubbling sensation began to build within your chest, foreign and oddly out of place.

 Hope.

 Finally, Chisaki spoke, his voice unusually calm considering the trouble you were in.  “Follow me.”

 Not one to disobey him, you did as he requested as he made his way over to his desk and sat down in his chair.  Then, with an open hand, he gestured at his desk.

 “Sit.”

 Confusion.

 “W-What??” you stuttered.

 “I said sit.” He replied.

 You did as Chisaki commanded, fitting yourself between his legs and his desk before hopping up slightly onto the surface you’d just cleaned. You were right in front of him now, your hands in your lap and your ankles crossed as you realized just how perfect this arrangement was for him to see directly up your skirt.  You worried your lip between your teeth as you watched him assess you.  His elbow was resting on the armrest of his chair, his fingers supporting his face along the jawline as he stared at you with his head cocked at an angle. If it were any other situation, you’d say he looked almost bored... but the glint in his eyes spoke of something else entirely.

 “Continue.” He stated.

 “What? What do you mean?” you asked.

 His eyes stared at you knowingly.  “You didn’t get to cum, did you?”  You shook your head, stunned at his words.  “Continue.” He repeated.

 “Right here?”

 “Where else?  It was good enough for you earlier.”  His tone dropped slightly as his eyes narrowed.  “Continue.”

 Your heart pounded in your ears as you uncrossed your ankles, and with shaky hands began to trace your fingers up your thighs just as you had done before. Except this time, the experience was entirely different. Instead of closing your eyes like before, you kept them open to stare at your observer, watching for his reaction.  So many times you’d fantasized about this... about his eyes being on you and only you... and you weren’t going to miss a moment of it.

 With your eyes locked on each other, you inched your way up to the space between your thighs, your legs parting to grant you access.  Chisaki didn’t look down.  Not right away, at least.  Instead, he continued to watch your face, his body still and silent.  With the heat of his gaze on you, you finally reached your center where your warmth greeted you.  It was still slick from earlier, your fingers sliding easily along your labia as you began to tease yourself for the second time that evening.  You let out slow, shaky breaths as your fingers rubbed slow, lazy circles over your glossy lips.  

 Chisaki still didn’t break his gaze from your eyes, and a part of you wanted him to.  You wanted him to acknowledge what you were offering him and know that he liked it. A small, devious smirk found itself on your lips as you pulled your fingers away from your pussy to show him the evidence of your arousal stretched across your fingers.  It caught his attention just briefly, eyes flicking to your display, before he watched you lick the glistening strands from your fingertips, the soft sounds of your sucking filling the empty, quiet room.

 Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, and the smirk on your face widened.  Soon your fingers were back between your legs, massaging your clit again as your skin began to feel flush with heat.  Round and round the pads of your fingers went, with painstaking slowness that you drew out just for him.  You wanted to show him how good his presence made you feel.  You wanted him to see how badly you wanted him.  Your lips became more swollen, your clit more sensitive. Already you could start to feel the tension build.  It was almost too easy, your body ready to surrender at the drop of a hat.  But you weren’t going to let it happen, not yet at least.  You wanted to draw this out, to savor it in case it never happened again.

 With half-lidded eyes you stared at him as you parted you folds for him, fully exposing yourself. For the first time, his eyes drifted from your face to stare directly at your desire for him – your tight hole open and waiting, every inch of your swollen cunt drenched in glistening arousal.  Chisaki was captivated and you felt your blood surge.  You needed more. With your fingers still spreading yourself open, you dipped your middle digit into your tight heat.   Pleasure bloomed within you and a soft groan vibrated from the back of your throat. With each draw of your fingers, your breaths quickened, your back arching as the tension began to build.

 You struggled to keep your eyes open, to watch Chisaki as you brought yourself closer to orgasm, but it became increasingly difficult. You were single-focused now, chasing your much-needed release with each plunge of your finger into your soft depths.  Your body accommodated it welcomingly, and so you added a second, once again relishing in the renewed stretch that caressed your inner walls. The faster you pumped your fingers, the better it felt until your nerves were singing that familiar hum.  You flowed seamlessly into the final phase, your wet fingers leaving your entrance in favor of rubbing hard, fast circles over your clit.  The finish line was in sight now as your body sprinted with tense, aching muscles and breathy moans.

 You came with a gasp, back arching and thighs twitching as you rode out your orgasm. As you neared the end of it, you dipped your fingers in one last time as your walls gave one last final spasm of pleasure.  Gradually the wave of your euphoria calmed, returning to the gentle, lapping waters of desire that still moved within you to the rhythm of your heartbeat.

 You opened your eyes to see Chisaki still staring at you silently, his eyes once again locked onto yours. The flush across his cheeks was very much apparent now, yet his posture remained unmoved. Still, out of curiosity, you dared a quick glance down to his lap to see his hand strategically placed over the bulge in his pants.  Was he trying to hide it?  Because he was failing.  Or was he stroking himself through his clothes when you weren’t looking?

 “Again.” He ordered.

 Your eyes bulged.  “Again?”

 He didn’t bother to answer, instead waiting silently.  You were a bird trapped in the golden cage of his eyes as your mind struggled to recover enough from the hazy aftereffects of your orgasm to think straight.  He wanted you to do it again?

 At first you were hesitant. You knew your body was still sensitive from what had just transpired.  But then again… your eyes stared at Chisaki’s crotch again as he waited for you.  No doubt he saw you staring, yet he did nothing, said nothing.  It almost felt like an invitation… or a dare.  Do it again and see what happens.

 Fuck. You’d already gotten under his skin... might as well see how deep you could go.

 Between your orgasm only moments before and the juices still coating your pussy, the sensations of your touch at first felt almost... numb.  Except for your clit.  That part was still sensitive, making your muscles twitch and your breath hitch in your throat as you moved your fingers over it experimentally. You kept your touch gentle at first, careful to give your body time to respond as you reawakened the lust that still lurked in your core.  With dark eyes you began to stroke yourself for him again, pulling soft pleasurable moans from your gently parted lips.  It was definitely more intense this time, and you could already tell that this next orgasm would surpass the one before it.  Still, you drew it out as you watched Chisaki.  Or, more specifically, watched his free hand.

 It didn’t take long... you watched his fingers grip around his hard-on through his pants, his hand slowly moving up and down his restricted length.  You bit your lip at the sight and immediately felt a generous wave of hot arousal bloom between your legs, your nipples hardening achingly.  It wasn’t enough to capsize you into ecstasy, but it certainly pulled a needy whimper from your lips.  

 You dipped your fingers into yourself, feeling your walls flutter as you imagined what it would feel like to have Chisaki inside of you.  With each curl of your fingers the heat grew, like the sun reaching its zenith.  You wanted it.  You wanted to cum so badly.  But you wanted to see him even more.  So, you neglected your puffy clit in favor of unbuttoning your blouse just enough to grant you access to your sensitive breasts.  You pushed aside the cup of your bra to free the plump flesh, the bud at its center tightly puckered.  With deft fingers you massaged the soft skin before rolling the nipple slowly between your fingers, pulling more soft gasps and gentle hums from your lips.  The more you groaned and teased yourself, the more Chisaki stroked himself as he watched you, his eyes glowing with hunger.

 It wasn’t until you began to lose yourself, your eyes beginning to drift closed as you moaned and whined to the ebb and flow of your pleasure, that your patience was finally rewarded.

 You could hear it over the sounds of your lewdity – the ‘click click click’ of a zipper being pulled down.  You opened your eyes, not even attempting to hide your eagerness, as Chisaki freed his cock from his pants.

 It was beautiful just like the rest of him; long with a slight curve, its tip red and shining with precum.  Veins stood out in relief, trailing his length like vines, thick and beautiful. You swallowed at the sight of it, desperately wanting to know what it would feel like to have that in you.

 You hadn’t realized your own movements had frozen until Chisaki’s smooth voice cut through your thoughts.

 “I didn’t tell you to stop.” He said, as cool and professional as ever as if he didn’t currently sit before you with his dick in his hand.  

 He was gloating, you knew it... your stunned silence at the sight of his cock stroked his ego just as much as you touching yourself for him did. And you knew that, above all else, Chisaki loved to have his ego stroked.

 “Y-yes Mr. Chisaki...” you whispered, before your fingers began moving again.

 You continued to stroke and play, penetrate and rub as you watched him take his long cock in his hand and begin long, steady strokes.  Even now, he still kept his gloves on, and somehow that made his every move even hotter.  He was no longer propping his face up with his other hand.  Now, he was sitting up straight, eyes on your needy cunt as you put on your show for him.  You could see it, the tension in his temple that came and went, hear the ragged, quick draws of his breaths through his mask.  Your own arousal grew in response, egged on by him searching for his own sweet relief at the lewd sight of you.  It blossomed like a watered seed as you drank in the man in front of you – his hand pumping, precum dripping.

 It was the push your sensitive body needed.  You came surprisingly fast, your orgasm crashing over your body with greater intensity than the first.  Moans and gasps ripped from your throat as your body spasmed, and you made no effort to quell your cries, too consumed by your own pleasure.  With eyes squeezed shut, your hips rocked as you grinded yourself against your hand, your entire body singing in unbridled bliss.

 You were given no respite.  As soon as the pleasure eased just enough for your hips to still, Chisaki spoke.

 “Again.”

 Your eyes, still closed, flew open to look at him with incredulity.  You weren’t even recovered yet, your cunt still twitching with the aftershocks of pleasure. You knew that touching yourself without some sort of break was going to lead you down a jagged, torturous road of overstimulation.  It made your legs start to close up instinctually in denial.

 Your mouth moved silently before you pushed the words out.  “B-But... I can’t....”

 Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, his brows lowering... and along the edge of his mask, you could see his cheeks lift slightly.  He was smirking at you. Cruelly.  

 “You can, and you will.” He said.  A wave of his fingers told you to reopen your legs for him, and you did, slowly, as if you were a puppet on strings.  “Again.” He repeated.

 Chisaki took a moment to remove the glove from his stroking hand before giving his cock a couple more languid strokes.  You stared at the exposed skin in awe.  It was everything you imagined it’d be... pale, smooth, nails clean and perfectly trimmed.  Between his hard cock and his ungloved hand, you stared in shameless longing as an excited chill coursed down your spine.  Maybe… maybe if you were good…

 You swallowed the dryness in your throat and returned your fingers to your core, flinching as you brushed against your sore, overstimulated clit.  Chisaki returned to pleasuring himself as you performed for him, his hand pumping steadily.  Watching him masturbate to you was delicious.  He didn’t rush, instead opting to taking his time, his hand moving smoothly from base to tip, occasionally pausing to run his precum over the head, the shine glinting in the light.  You subconsciously licked your lips, wondering what it would taste like. Would you lick it from his tip? Or his finger?  Maybe both?

 You matched your pace with his, letting his own strokes guide your hand.  The synchrony made your pussy ache more than ever, even as your body screamed for freedom – a break from the constant wave of stimulation that you were subjecting yourself to.  It made you feel closer to him, more connected - as if he were a part of your pleasure without actually touching you.

 But dear God, you desperately you wanted him to touch you.

 He continued his strokes, slow and easy.  Whether it was for him or for you, you weren’t sure... you weren’t even sure if he was aware that you were pacing yourself with him.  His speed gradually quickened, the muscles of his forearms tensed and twitching as he pumped his hard cock with growing fervor. It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen, his eyes starting to roll back in his head as he began to lose himself to the pleasure, legs twitching slightly as he came close... Your heart pounded with excited anticipation as you dipped your fingers into your core, feeling your walls flutter with need.  It was happening... he was going to cum...

 But he never did.  Instead, his pace began to slow as his eyes refocused on you. That was when you realized….

 Chisaki wasn’t trying to cum yet… he was edging himself.

 Maybe he was waiting for you.  Or maybe he had his own agenda.  But either way, it was clear to you that he was delaying his orgasm.

 The hypocrite.

 Still, you wanted to please him. You wanted to give him want he wanted, because then maybe he could give you what you really wanted.  But no matter how hard you tried, no matter how fucking hot the entire situation was, your own orgasm evaded you.  

 It was more than just the repeated orgasms and overstimulation.  The real issue was that your fingers no longer satisfied. Not after seeing what he had to offer, and certainly not after seeing how horny you made him.  You wanted him to touch you, to put his hands on you, to feel his cock in you... A frustrated whine escaped your lips as you felt your resolve break.

 “Please, Mr. Chisaki...” you begged.  Chisaki’s eyes left your open pussy to lock with yours.  Their golden depths burned holes into you, and you licked your lips under the heat of his stare. “Please touch me...”

 Chisaki froze mid-stroke.  “Touch you?” He said it as if the idea repulsed him, yet his eyes betrayed him as he looked back down between your open legs.

 “Please,” You begged.  “Don’t you want to?”

 His brow was deeply furrowed, and you knew he was having his internal debate, just as he’d had before.  After all, what you were asking was no small order.  You knew how he felt about touch.  No doubt he would have already been balls deep in you had it not been an issue for him.

 But that was why you begged. And pleaded.  And groveled.  Anything to make him set aside his golden rule, even if just for one night.

 “Please...” you whined one last time.  “I’ll do anything.  I need you, Kai...”

 Something about you using his given name did something.  His eyes widened slightly, his flush reaching down to his exposed neck.  Then his eyes narrowed, as he stood from his seat.  You watched with a mix of excitement and trepidation as he carefully removed his jacket and loosened his white tie.  He towered over you, his stare pinning you somewhere between his contempt and his hunger as he undid the cuffs of his black shirt and rolled up his sleeves to the elbows. It made your pussy throb and your heart pound as you stared back at him, completely vulnerable.  He stepped forward slightly, filling the space between your legs with his presence.  Even just the graze of his pants against the inside of your knee was enough to set off fireworks on your skin, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.  His cock was still out and hard, mere inches from your tight, needy cunt, and it took every ounce of willpower not to scoot down and close the gap between you.

 You waited.

 “Touch you...” he muttered through his mask, his voice low.

 Chisaki’s eyes raked over you, taking in every inch of you.  Your trembling, parted lips and large pupils; your exposed breast with its perky, hard nipple; your swollen and glossy cunt framed in ruined underwear that was carelessly shoved aside; the sweat from your thighs coating his desk.

 “So fucking filthy.” He breathed.  The profanity sounded strange on his lips, almost more like a prayer than an insult.

 He stared at one of your thighs as he slowly placed a warm, gloved hand on it. You reacted immediately, gasping at his touch, and his eyes darted to yours.

 “...And needy.” He added.

 From your peripheral you could see his other hand grip his cock and begin to pump it. You tried to watch... you wanted to watch.  But the heat of his hand on your thigh made nearly everything else fade away until it was all you cared about.  Your breaths began to come in hot pants as your body trembled beneath him.

 “I didn’t realize that you were so desperate for me.” He said calmly as he continued to stroke himself.  His gloved hand squeezed your soft flesh until you were moaning from the mixture of pleasure and pain. “Pathetic.”

 You were pathetic.  But you didn’t care.  You’d say anything, do anything, just to have him keep touching you.  And if he wanted you to beg?  To cry? To humiliate yourself to earn his cock?  You’d do that too.

 His hand slowly eased its grip as it began to move up, up, up until his thumb nestled in the crook of your thigh, just shy of your sensitive, swollen folds. Your hand immediately made way for his as you laid down completely onto his desk, your world spinning.  A warmth fell over you like a blanket, every fiber of your being pulsing at a low hum; you were a glass vibrating at a frequency just shy of shattering.

 Chisaki’s voice floated through your haze like a faraway song carried on the wind. “You were so eager at first.  So willing to shame yourself – shame me – to get what you wanted.”  He scoffed. “Now you can’t even do as I say.”

 You could feel his thigh twitch against yours as he began to pump himself faster. His cock was so close to your pussy that it was torturous.  It made you want to cry.  You could feel the warmth of fresh juices begin to flow from you, coating your entrance in invitation, as you prayed to all the gods above and below for him to enter you without mercy.

 But it never came.  And his hand never ventured further.  Slowly, your thoughts trickled back ever so slightly, and you realized he was waiting for you to speak.  Slowly, around a heavy tongue, you made clumsy words.  “I... I’m sorry...I’m trying... is hard...”

 Chisaki tsked.  “You’re afraid.  Afraid of pushing past your limits. So now I’m going to help you.”

 His gloved thumb crossed the threshold to your swollen bud, and your world exploded into color as a sharp zing of pleasure erupted from between your legs. You cried out, your body spasming, hips writhing to escape his touch. It was too much...

 “Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.

 Then he did something you didn’t expect – his bare hand released his cock and slammed down onto the desk.  The surface rippled beneath you, transforming until smooth arches of dark mahogany wrapped themselves over your arms, effectively pinning you down.

 Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, your breaths coming out in quick, panicked gasps.

 “Kai!” you protested.

 He bent over you and grabbed your jaw in his gloved hand, his plague doctor mask inches from your face. “You wanted me to touch you,” he whispered.  “Now you’re going to get what you asked for.”

 The look in his eyes wasn’t as controlled as before.  Sure, the disgust and hunger were still there.  But there were more emotions now, peaking through the cracks of his practiced façade.  Anger, contempt, fear, desire, longing... and something else; something wild and unhinged.

 Something within him was on the verge of breaking, of being set free, and you were the one responsible.

 He straightened himself up and returned his gloved hand to your sopping core, his cock once again in his bare hand.  His thumb found its home again, nestled firmly against your engorged clit.

 He wasn’t gentle, he wasn’t slow.  Instead, his thumb ran swift, relentless circles, the digit igniting every frayed nerve. Each swipe had you crying out as wave after wave of sharp, jagged pleasure assaulted you, without so much as a second of recovery in between.  And as Chisaki raced you towards that inevitable cliff, his own hand pumped himself hard and fast.  His strokes began to become erratic, his composure slowly slipping as you began to unravel before him, your whines and cries luring him to follow you to the point of no return.  You could feel his own legs began to spasm against your inner thighs, his hips beginning to jut forward with each drag of his palm along his hard shaft.  The gap between your two bodies began to close, until you could feel the tip of him brush against your core. In that instant, you came undone beneath him with his name spilling from your drooling lips.

 The temptation was too much.  He entered you as you came, his cock burying itself within your clenching walls with a single thrust.  Your legs wrapped around him instantly as your body exploded into a mess of tears, shrieks, and trembles.  With one hand on your hip and one working your clit, he fucked you through your orgasm as you cried and panted, his own grunts joining your one-person symphony as you felt every fiber of your being shatter with white hot pleasure. It was all-consuming, disorienting.  You weren’t even sure you were a person anymore.  You could feel nothing else, see nothing else except the man inside of you, hovering over you, filling your existence.

 It didn’t stop. Even after you were a blubbering mess, tears streaming down your cheeks, your thighs and cunt sore, Chisaki kept going, his cock reaching new depths as it dragged against your spasming, sensitive walls.  His breaths were heavy, each pant labored until he ripped his mask off his face.  It was like a switch had been flipped, changing Chisaki from a man in control to nearly animalistic.  Teeth bared, sweat beading across his forehead, golden eyes absolutely feral. His thrusts took you past your orgasm, unrelenting, and you cried and babbled for him to stop, it was too much, your body couldn’t take anymore.  But even as your string of incoherent words begged for the end, your body spoke of a different kind of freedom, your legs tightening around Chisaki’s waist in an effort to pull him impossibly deeper into you.

 Chisaki snarled, releasing his hand from your cunt as he continued to fuck you, and removed his remaining glove with his teeth.  Suddenly, the white fabric was being shoved into your mouth, gagging your broken words behind its white cotton that smelled and tasted of you.

 “Shut up.” He growled.

 You could see the hives breaking out across his damp, flushed skin now at the contact, but it no longer seemed to matter to him.  And it didn’t matter to you either.  You were wrapped up delirium, your eyes glossing over and rolling into your head with each drive of Chisaki’s hips. Your hips couldn’t even keep up with his thrusts anymore; his movements were too rough, too fast.  All you could do was lay there and receive him as he pounded you without restraint.  That familiar knot was forming again, a dark beast built from the broken pieces of the last. It was a terrifying thing, a formidable presence that you felt building within yourself that would surely decimate you.

 “This is what you really wanted, isn’t it?” Chisaki grunted through clenched teeth. “You wanted me to fuck you senseless, to ruin this tight pussy of yours like the greedy, selfish bitch you are.”

 His words washed over you and you gave the faintest of nods, your mouth still gagged.

 “So, you’re going to take what I give you. You’re going to cum when I say, as often as I say.”  His cock hit deep as his thumb gave a final press against your clit. “Now.”

 You screamed around the cotton in your mouth, back arching and arms straining against the wood trapping you as the tension finally erupted.  It tore through your veins, making your fluids gush and your pussy clench like a vice around Chisaki’s pumping cock.  Not a moment later, you heard him groan followed by the hot sensation of his cum coating your walls.  It only enhanced the waves of pleasure still wrecking you and your pussy milked him greedily as he emptied himself in you.

 The comedown felt like it would never arrive. Your nerves still sang too loudly, the aches echoed too deep.  But finally, Chisaki’s hips stuttered to a stop and your own body lay limp beneath him. It felt like you were submerged under water, every sense dulled or muted, as you stared hazily at the ceiling.  Chisaki was still in you, his dick twitching sensitively each time your body gave a weak aftershock. You had thought he would pull out, leave you there like the ruined mess you were to go clean himself up.  Now doubt he’d return to his senses any moment and be repulsed by what transpired.

 But he never did.  Instead, he braced himself over you, his heavy, hot breaths coating your exposed skin as he settled through his own comedown while you warmed his cock.  You felt the desk ripple beneath you and suddenly your arms were freed from their restraints, the wooden surface back to its original state.  A moment later, he filled your view as he leaned over you, and you had a brief moment of panic, wondering if you were next. Was he going to overhaul you now? After all, he got what he wanted...

 But he never did that either.  Instead, he removed the glove from your mouth as his eyes traced over your face, marking every feature, every nuance.  Your parted, chapped lips... your glossy, sweat-stained skin... the exhaustion in your eyes...  His thumb came up to wipe away at the tears drying along your cheekbones before running the smooth pad over your lower lip.

 Then he did something you didn’t anticipate, something that surprised you above all else. He bent down and captured your mouth with his, his wet tongue gliding into your stunned, open mouth.  It was strangely slow, uncharacteristically tender, and entirely unexpected.  The fog you’d been swimming in a moment before lifted slightly, and you began to kiss him back, your arm wrapping up around his shoulders before tangling your fingers into his damp, auburn locks at the base of his neck.

 Whatever it was, it was short-lived.  He brought a hand up to grasp the hand you had around his neck, his fingers twining with yours as he placed your hand back down on the desk, pinning you within his hold. He pulled away from the kiss and stared down at you with a dark smirk tugging the corners of his wet lips.  And his eyes... his eyes burned gold like the sun. Not a beautiful, gentle gold that kissed open delicate flowers and melted winter snow.  No, this was a force of unrelenting destruction, the kind that burned deserts, scorched forests... and melted wax wings.

 You were Icarus, fueled by foolishness and arrogance. You’d flown too close, fueled by a false sense of confidence that you could handle whatever it was that lurked within him, that your lust was enough to match his.  But you were quickly learning you couldn’t.  His fire burned too hot, his hunger too deep. He was going to devour you until there was nothing left.  And really, what did you expect from a man who denied himself every human urge in his quest for perfection?  

 The sun could never be controlled.

 And Pandora’s box can never be closed.

 Slowly, he lowered his face next to yours until you could feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

 “Again.”

[time-lapse-games]

The Ash Black Cat and the Happy Ogre presents: Devlog 1 (01/23)

The time has come: finally, I'm writing an actual devlog. (It’s a little long!)

What I worked on this last two months...

Hello, everyone! This is my first "big" project on RPG Maker, and I'm like... a little ball of anxiety, so, seeing some interest for this game made me really happy. I made some significant progress, so I think it's time to make a longer post!

The general idea of ​​the game is to have five different areas - one for each floor. You can therefore think of floors as "levels". Finishing a floor doesn't mean never going back to it: for some later puzzles and events, you'll need to back-track. However, once an area is unlocked, the whole school will always be accessible at any time. (In the final version there will be no locked doors, unless it's for story sake).

Yesterday I finally finished working on the eventing for the second floor, so the second area is complete. Originally, I planned a different conclusion for this area - something about being locked in a room while someone tries to enter - but... it just didn't convince me. It didn't tell the story how I wanted to, and it was a little too "standard horror RPG". (Nothing wrong in doing something like that, but this wasn’t what I needed.) So, I completely rewrote it: no locked rooms, more trauma for the protagonists, and a scene that I hope will unsettle you at least a little bit. I think this is the creepiest part of the game right now.

(I wanted to use a good screenshot, but everything else would be a little too spoilerish...)

I had already started working on the third floor maps last month, so now I can immediately move on to the eventing. I had already thought of the puzzles for this area, but then I started adding details and it's becoming a monumental thing... small spoiler 1: there will be an alchemical laboratory. Finally I can get back to making the fancy maps that I love. Yeah, so far I've been trying to keep it simple or something like that. It's an ugly school, after all. From the third floor you will enter in the realm of the supernatural, so the school will begin to change. There will be new characters - some helpful, some annoying - and the whole story will take a turn... a little stranger. But have my word, I'll explain everything by the end.

Also, have you ever wondered if Gioele will appear as an active character? Small spoiler 2: yes. Yes, he will appear. Very soon too. Also taking someone else with him. Although Feli probably would have preferred only Gioele. As soon as I've drawn the busts, I'll also introduce you to Gioele - and Abele. Anyway, if you're wondering, yes, I have the whole story in mind. The different areas, the main events, the endings: it's all there, I just have to create it inside the RPG Maker. Of course, I still have to better define some minor puzzles, but aside from that…

What will change in the final version compared to the demo?

Well, various things. I replayed the demo a lot of times to make sure everything worked, and listened to the feedback. - First of all, I will add footstep sounds. At first I didn't add them because there was already the sound of the dialogue (The beep beep when they speak) and I hate horror videogames with too much noise. However, replaying the demo, I think footsteps would help the atmosphere a lot in certain parts. - The layout of the hallways. I always thought the shape of the hallways was… slightly confusing? But I wasn't sure how to change it. Now I've thought about it and found a design that works better. Obviously I will modify the first two floors. - More flavor texts, more objects to interact with - and to collect too. When I was creating the demo, I set myself a deadline, so I didn't have time to put everything I wanted. In the full version I will make up for it. - The sound effects: I will change them all. No RTP, just specific sounds. I really love to work on sound design and music. (Yes, at the moment I'm running around the house trying different sounds for doors, chairs, books...). - School Maps! (I've already drawn the first floor one, now I have to redraw it digitally...) - In the first segment, when Noelia is going to school and there is a fade-out, you actually get to explore Felix's house and the streets up to the school.

Well, I think I've said it all. I didn't bore you too much, I hope. If you have any questions, I will be happy to answer them. Yes, I usually have anon off because I'm anxious, as I said before. But I would like to receive messages nonetheless~ To the next time!

(TL; DR I finished to work on the eventing for the second floor, I made a pretty creepy cutscene or at least I hope so, and now the eventing for the third floor is waiting. The third floor will be a big one: snow, Will -o'-Wisps and a really annoying helper.)

[animeyanderelover]

Can you do poly!Lau and RanMao with prompt 53? Thank you <3

Yo! Lau and Ran Mao are one of my favorite duos in Black Butler and without a doubt a poly!relationship I would love to be in💘. I also changed the prompt a bit due to two persons saying it.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, obsessiveness, kidnapping, drugging, being tied up

Prompt 53: “It is funny that you think you can actually leave us.”

"Don't you like the tea? Your face looks awfully much displeased." You quickly waved one of your hands, not wanting to be impolite whilst being invited by one of the people you had happened to meet through Ciel whilst working in the manor temporarily. "That's not it. It doesn't taste all too bad. It's just a bit...bitter.", you decided to say, realizing that it still sounded pretty fastidious. "Is that so? It was a new flavor since I added some strong herbs in hopes it would taste good. I apologize. Ran Mao, would you be so friendly to give our guest here a bit sugar?"

The girl just nodded, putting her tea cup down and grabbing the container with the sugar before standing up from Lau's lap and stepping next to your side. You hadn't bothered to ask why she was doing this all the time, but since Lau didn't seem to mind, you hadn't asked. Maybe you were a bit embarassed to do so, you didn't want to make yourself feel uncomfortable. But over time you had learned to not pay too much attention to it.

"Thank you, Ran Mao. You didn't have to stand up just to give me this. The container was only a few inches away-" You had your hands stretched out, wanting to grab the bowl with sugar from Ran Mao. But instead she suddenly started pouring at least the half of the sugar into your tea cup. "...from me.", you finished the sentence, staring a bit dumbfounded at what had been once tea. Ran Mao tilted her head confused, not understanding why you looked so taken aback. "No...sugar?", she asked, the sentence sounding somewhat broken. "Too much sugar.", you replied, stirring the viscous and brown mush, out of pure criosity tasting a bit of it before twisting your face. Now it was too sweet, though the strange aftertaste was still dancing faintly on your tongue.

You just put the tea down, deciding to turn your attention back to Lau and Ran Mao, who had by now sat back down on Lau's lap. "Do you want new tea? I prepared a lot more of it. Or do you wish for something else?" You shook slightly your head, not needing more tea. "It's nice of you to ask, but I'll decline. I have everything I need. And I'm sure that you wanted to talk about something with me, didn't you?"

Lau gave you a small and mysterious smile, being satisfied that you had figured that much out. "Ran Mao and me did indeed. We heard from Ciel that now that your job is done in the manor, you were planning on returning home. It saddened us to hear this information. We both became very fond of you these past few months." You scratched the back of your head, a small feeling of sadness and guilt yourself blossoming in your chest. "I'm upset myself, you know? I really started liking my time here, but I can't do nothing about it. I have my own master wating home for me. I was only supposed to work with the young lord until the agreement between the Phantomhive company and my master's company is completely planned and also agreed on from both masters. And now that this happened, I'm finished."

You folded your hands together and stuck them between your knees, staring down at your lap. "My master wants me home fast as well. I need to hurry up, don't have much time." Lau had put by now his cup of tea down as well, looking at you through his closed eyes. You had the feeling that he was observing you a bit. "You don't really seem to like your master. If I remember right, you told me once that you wished he was more like the young Earl." You were a bit surprised that he still could recall this, you had almost forgotten about it by now, most likely because you had mentioned it ore incidentally. "You have quite the good memory. To be honest with you, I really don't like my master that much. He is strict, mean and sometimes just expects too much from his servants. It's tiring and those last few months were such a luxury for me. But tomorrow morning that all will be over." You sounded almost a bit wistfully. Why wouldn’t you? Tomorrow you would be stripped of all the free time you used to have all these last months.

“You could stay here.” You chuckled a bit when hearing this, thinking he was just trying to lift your mood a bit. “I would love to stay, but I don’t want to have my ears pulled by my master for doing this. It would end with me having to scrub a whole room until I’ll feel like my bones won’t be able to support my weight anymore. I had to do it one time, couldn’t move properly for a few weeks without feeling the tightening stiffness. And I had to skip one night of sleep and only was able to be met with my bed the following night since I had to work the day as well. But maybe my lord will let me visit sometimes. It isn’t like I don’t want to never see you again. I’ll definitely write letters though, that much my master will allow me to do.”

“Your master doesn’t sound like he’s a very pleasant person to be around.”, Lau commented, the smile still gracing his features whilst Ran Mao was staring motionlessly at you with her golden eyes. “He isn’t. But he’s the one who pays me and next to that I also have my friends there. I can’t leave them alone with that man or else they’ll totally collapse. I’m the most experienced one in my household. I have no choice, but to go back.”

“Stay.” Hearing that from Ran Mao was a bit heartbreaking, knowing that she didn’t speak much and for her to say such a thing meant that she really wanted you to not go. She still didn’t have much of a facial expression on her face, but she had started leaning forward, her big eyes drilling almost into you. Lau was doing the same thing, only that his eyes were closed. It never ceased to fascinate you how he was able to make a person feel the intensity of his starre whilst his eyelids were closed. You swore that it made you feel slightly dizzy.

“See? Even Ran Mao here wishes you to stay. I’m sure that your master wouldn’t mind too much if you would just resign. I informed myself a bit about him, he seems like the type to just catch a new fish as soon as an old one disappeared.”

“Wait? You informed yourself about my master? Why?” You had started feeling a bit funny by now, trying to stay focused. You didn’t want to worry the two of them.

“Because I was a bit curious when I heard that Ciel would have a new servant coming to join him for a bit of time since the lord himself was bound to bed. He seems like a rather despicable man if you ask me.

“I admit that he isn’t the best lord to have, but I’m still working under him and he is still the man I have to serve and respect every day and who pays me in return. So I can’t complain too much. I doubt I would find that quickly another place to work at, not with him and his vengeful character. Next to that I’m afraid that it’ll affect the contract between the Phantomhive and him. I worked too hard for this to have it break apart because I went missing.” You felt a bit too lightheaded, your mind starting to spin and you were by now sure that this wasn’t from their gazes. Had you perhaps done a mistake tasting the mush made of sugar and the tea?

“I can assure you that he wouldn’t do that. I even had a talk with Ciel about this one time before. Your lord is more of a greedy type and his company was slowly starting to collapse. The collaboration between his and Ciel’s company saved him before any real damage could be caused. He won’t risk losing his support pillar and I doubt he really cares much about his servants.”

“Do you have to say it like this? It-it sounds a bit harsh.”, you slowly mumbled out, a weird feeling having started to spread and fill every pore of your body, giving you the feeling that your whole body had started to relax and feeling more numb. The dizziness had gotten stronger as well, making you grip the fabric of the clothes a bit tighter, narrowing your eyes in hopes of getting rid of the feeling.

“It may sound harsh, but it’s the truth. There are a lot of better people out there with which you could live and who would treat you better.”

“And who would that be? Do you mean the young master Ciel? Do you think he would take me in?” You couldn’t help, but blur those words out, your thoughts having suddenly becoming a bit too twisted for you to make sense of them anymore. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you scolded yourself for having said that, but you seemed to not be able to process anymore what you were saying or doing or what was happening around you anymore.

“The young Ciel certainly seems to be a better master to have. But I was thinking about someone else who would love to have you with them and take care of you. You wouldn’t even have to work anymore.” You looked with clouded eyes at them, barely being able to keep them open anymore. You were feeling too drowsy and sitting on a comfy couch made you play with the thought of just laying down and taking a nap. You actually shouldn’t do this, you had to pack your things and head for the next train to travel all the way back, but your normally so dutiful attitude seemed to get drowned by this weird, tingling feeling inside of you. You wondered if you were drunk, but you hadn’t consumed anything that had alcohol in it.

“And who would that be?”, you slurred out, trying to stand up only to collapse right away back into the softer fabric of the couch. Your legs felt weirdly wobbly, but you still tried to somehow manage to stand straight up and walk out of here, your inner clock managing to get your body to move. You had to finish packing your things.

“I was thinking about Ran Mao and me. We both seem to care for you a lot and it was shocking for us to hear that you were leaving so suddenly. We were planning on spending a lot more time with you, weren’t we Ran Mao?”, Lau answered, glancing at Ran Mao who hadn’t stopped looking away from you for once. The girl just nodded, starting to move upon noticing that you had forgotten how to walk. In any other scenario you would have felt ashamed, but currently everything seemed and felt a bit...strange.

“It’s nice from you to say this, but I have to hurry up now. Or else I’ll gonna get in troubles from the stupid old man. Wouldn’t want that. Gotta hurry up an’ catch ma train.” You had somewhat manages to support half of your weight on the couch whilst limping with the rest of your body slowly away from them. “(y/n), I don’t think you should go. You won’t be able to stay conscious for too long and I also don’t think you’ll be able to walk properly.”, Lau called after you, sounding half-amused as well as a bit worried.

“Don’t tell me what I can do and what not. I have to leave now.”, you whined in a childish tone before your knees gave away under you. But before you could make contact with the ground, Ran Mao was quick to catch you, her eyes glancing slightly concerned over you before turning to Lau, who had started walking over to you. “You don’t have to worry Ran Mao. They’ll be fine. The medicine I gave them shouldn’t cause them any feelings of nausea or headaches. Only dizziness and the feeling of being a bit high. They should fall asleep any moment now.”

“Medicine? Which medicine?”, you asked, hanging in Ran Mao’s arms like a sleepy little kitten. “The one I put in your tea, dear. It’s the reason your tea tasted so bitter before. You won’t leave London after all. Or us. It is funny that you think you can actually leave us.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind you started panicking when you heard him saying these things. He had drugged you! You had to run! But your mind was too foggy to let this information sink in by now and you also felt too tired to care. Ran Mao had additionally to that started to caress your head, the small soothing gesture only making your eyes feel even more heavy.

“How are you feeling?” You barely heard Lau asking you this question. “Tired.”, you mumbled out, having by now totally loosened up in Ran Mao’s hold, who was still holding you. “Then sleep. We’ve already prepared a room for you to stay in.”

You felt his gentle fingers brushing along your jawline and you unconsciously even leaned a bit closer to him, liking the feeling of it.

“Don’t worry, Ran Mao and me will take great care of you. You won’t have to work anymore, won’t have to endure anyone bossing you around anymore or about earning money. We’ll take care of anything for you. Right, Ran Mao?” She seemed to press you closer against her chest, but you were only one point of a knife away from falling asleep so you might as well have mistaken this. But you still heard her muttering her answer out. “Yes.” That was the last thing you heard before you just finally allowed yourself to slide away in your temporary dreamland, though somewhere in the back of your mind you knew you would wake up to discover a bad surprise.

[softomi]

i like you so matcha

prompt: is it really a rivals to lovers if one likes the other?

pairing: osamu x reader

word count: 3.2k

general taglist: @graykageyama @tsumue @thesorebae @micasaessakusa @alouphen

Osamu wasn’t one to worry about competition; he had heard of the new café just a few stores down from his own restaurant and while he believed that the grand opening was nothing more than large interest, the hype reached his own workers. While he prides himself on providing a menu that is cost efficient and perfect for anyone; his workers seem to think that the new café combined low cost with high quality and aesthetics.

Again, Osamu wasn’t that interested in the new place until through the grapevine he heard they were selling onigiri. It wasn’t just any onigiri, apparently their take involved changing the color of the rice to add an artistic component. They were even going as far as shaping the onigiri into novelty orientations, one of his workers showcased the hello kitty onigiri.

Once more, Osamu tried to reason that it wasn’t interesting but he can’t help the sudden tick of his forehead when his brother walks right passed the windows of his restaurant only to emerge thirty minutes later with a to-go box of rainbow colored onigiri. It irked him even more when Atsumu had the audacity to sit at the counter and eat the onigiris with such happiness.

“Hey Samu, you think you could make some of these.” Osamu takes the box, promptly throwing it into the trash, eliciting a whine from Atsumu who declares that now he must wait another twenty minutes in line for more.

Osamu finds himself waiting in line with his brother. Atsumu cries that his stomach is hungry, but Osamu keeps his attention to how long the line is; it didn’t wrap around the block but it was fairly long enough to understand that the place was popular. The glow of the neon blue sign is just barely evident under the sun, but it must appear better under night conditions.

When he looks inside, he sees pristine white tables that balance with the brightly colored food; the chairs looked to have comfortable padding, some decorated with different colored pillows. There were mirrors displayed along the walls, one moon shaped, one stars, one of the sun, he takes it to understand that this was probably a theme of the café.

“We’re almost to the front!” Atsumu’s stomach growls the closer they get.

Osamu notices there’s decorative fairy lights along the window looking out into the street, the windowsill is large and he thinks it’s a good idea when he sees some customers using the space as a seating area. There’s a chalkboard used to display the menu behind the workers at the counter and even a small one at the cash register that lists the specials of the day.

Even as they find a seat, Osamu’s eyes are staring at the ceiling, how aesthetic, he thinks, there’s even a mirror above where they sat. He observes the customers, most are women but here and there are a few men; some with their lovers, some just here for the food. He can conclude that most of the hype of the place is from the aesthetic alone. It’s the perfect place for a photo opportunity with how decorated everything is.

“Order for Miya!”

Atsumu practically sprints to the counter and back. When Osamu tries to touch the food, Atsumu slaps his hand, “Wait! Let me take a picture!”

Osamu rolls his eyes; his brother has fallen into the trap that is the café. Atsumu takes five minutes to capture every angle that he can, even utilizing the ceiling mirror to get a picture of him and his brother with the food. Osamu takes note of Atsumu’s drink, clear plastic with a secure top; it allows you to see the different layers of the coffee but he knows once Atsumu mixes the drink it’ll turn green for the matcha flavor.

“Look!” Atsumu is shoving the cup in Osamu’s face, “There’s a design on the cup!” Atsumu’s eyes sparkle at the cute print of a Pokémon character, “That means I was one of the first hundred customers of the day.”

At this point, Osamu wants to applaud the aesthetic of the restaurant. Even taking the time to print on designs for customers as a novelty item to which they could boost about on social media, Osamu is impressed. But he reasons that the aesthetic of the place must hold to a high standard with the food.

So when he takes one of the onigiri’s, he’s ready to critique the flavor.

“Are you enjoying your meal?”

When Osamu looks up after taking a bite, the rice flows down the wrong pipe; he coughs loudly, wheezing at the way the salted salmon is a lump in his throat. Atsumu gives up his drink for his brother and Osamu nearly falls in love with the sweet taste of the matcha coffee.

“Are you alright?” Your hand is pressed on his shoulder, it moved from when you had been lightly hitting his back to help.

Osamu’s cough dies down as he watched you move to the counter; the workers listening intently to your words before nodding off.

“I’m sorry.” Osamu coughs for a last time as you approach the table.

Your hands are on your hips, a grin pressed neatly on your lips as you hold out a hand, “It’s my fault, I must have surprised you coming over all of a sudden. I’m the owner and you run Onigiri Miya don’t you?” Osamu feels sweat beat down the side of his face when he reaches out to grasp your hands, “I’m a big fan, you have great flavors, I can only hope that ours matches yours.”

Your attention turns to his twin, Atsumu gladly takes your attention, this gives Osamu time to collect himself. Osamu discoveries himself staring at you, you radiated a type of energy, one that he feels matches his own when it comes to running a business. The smile on your face makes him flush slightly and his palms remain sweaty from when he held your hand.

“It’s an honor to have a professional volleyball player eat at our establishment. We hope to see us on your social media page. One of my workers will bring over a free drink for the inconvenience.” Your head lowers in courtesy, waving to the men to continue their dining experience, “Oh and Mister Onigiri Miya, I’d love to bounce some ideas off you, I think we’d work great as partners for a few projects.”

Business partners was the last thing Osamu was going to agree to now that he had been up and close with the café; it’s been deemed a threat. It irked him when he saw you, a smile on your face as you wave to him early in the morning. His business seemed to always open and end with you, that’s how he discovered that even your hours of operation were the same as his.

It annoyed him when you visited, a large cup of matcha coffee in your hand as you offer it to him during the middle of lunch rush. It’s sweet when he drinks it, but he tries not to like it too much and he even tries to repress the craving for it on days when you don’t visit his shop. He even holds back the urge to visit the café when he really wants some matcha coffee.

He also finds it absolutely annoying how the parking spaces in front of his restaurant are always blocked by your customers. One time he stormed into your café, the workers were no stranger to his complaints. He’s automatically walking to your office in the back. When he can’t find you, he discovers you in a hidden kitchen meant for creative purposes.

“Oh, Miya Osamu. What can I do for you?” There’s rice on your cheek, your apron dirtied with minced ingredients, you wipe your hands on the ends of your apron to leave streaks of flour.

Osamu pushes aside the thought that he finds your hair pulled up cute, his hands on his waist as he puffs out his chest, “You need to do something about the parking situation! Your customers are parking in spots specifically meant for Onigiri Miya!”

You laugh, the back of your hand wiping against your cheek to remove the rice, “No problem! I’ll just put up signs on parking. Good?”

Osamu’s eyes twitch, the rice on your cheek is still stuck there and you can’t seem to find just where it is. He takes a step forward, fingers reaching out to graze the speck of rice and flick it off into another direction. You’re grinning.

“Thanks, did you want some coffee?” Your hand is already preparing a cup, pushing buttons on a machine as it spews out coffee, “I’m trying out some matcha and chocolate fusion drinks. I think I just figured out the perfect balance. Taste test?” You hold out the cup to him.

It’s sweet, just a perfect blend; absolutely beautiful. Osamu ends up taking the drink back to his restaurant, eyes staring at the cup with doodles of hearts and stars.

The next day, Osamu barges into your office stating that the music from your café is too loud, even though he’s three stores down, and none of his workers could hear anything but he’s insisted that the music is too distracting. He returns once more with a complimentary drink and a lighter mood than before.

“Isn’t he being too demanding?” One of your workers watches Osamu peer into the shop.

You’re smiling, already prepping the matcha drink, “I think it’s cute.”

“He’s acting like he’s part of the neighborhood watch committee.” Your worker stands straight up, “Good morning mister Miya, another complaint today?”

Osamu crosses his arms, lips in a thin line, “If you’re going to have your workers hand out flyers, I would prefer it if it wasn’t done in front of my restaurant.”

“Here’s your order.” The cup in your hand is stretched out to him.

“I didn’t.” Osamu frowns but his finger brush against yours when he reaches for the cup.

“I’ll be sure to tell them to stay closer to our café.” Despite him turning away, he flushes, “Have a great day Miya Osamu!” Your voice makes his ears go red.

The workers giggle when he turns around to thank you. It was painfully obvious that he had a crush on you. Excuses upon excuses as a way to step into your café and have brief moments with you. His eyes distracted by the cup, he runs into the door, giggles follow him as he leaves.

Osamu has himself crouched behind the counter, hands in his hair, hiding from the world. He remains a roadblock to his workers but they all move around him; he can’t possibly step back into your café after that embarrassing moment.

“It probably wasn’t that bad sir.” The worker has been waiting for five minutes trying to get one of the rice bags from behind Osamu.

Osamu digs his hands into his hair, “I basically face planted into the door.”

“Can I just get the rice please? We have orders.”

When Osamu stands to his feet, the wind gets knocked out of him. You wave from behind the counter and Osamu coughs as though he was busily trying to do something from under.

“Can I help you with something?”

You lean on your toes, it makes him want to delve just a little closer to you, “Yeah, there’s a car blocking one of our carry out spots, it has an Onigiri Miya sticker on the bumper so we thought maybe it was yours?”

Osamu facepalms, he had forgotten to move his car. He’s quick to round the counter, making his way to you until he feels it. He’s suddenly thrusted forward, unable to comprehend the wet floor sign before he’s tumbling right into you. Your hands steady his arms, Osamu’s find themselves clutching your waist. He was blushing madly, nose brushing against yours; customers and workers alike stare at the rather intimate hold.

“Are you alright?”

Osamu lets go but the step he takes back makes him slip, your arm stretches out to grasp him but it only sends you forward. Everyone gasps. Osamu lands on his ass, your body hovering over him and he’s blushing even harder now with your breath against his skin.

“I’m so sorry.” You pull away from him.

“It’s my fault.” Osamu dusts himself off, helping you to your feet, even holding your hand to try and balance the both of you, “Are you okay?”

Besides minor embarrassment, you grin to him, “Nothing I haven’t experienced before. Have you ever slipped and spilled rice in the middle of lunch rush, effectively getting grains of rice in everything?” Osamu laughs, “Truly one of my more embarrassing moments.”

He feels his heart suddenly more at ease, the restaurant goes back to their bustling conversations and the two of you walk out together. Osamu thinks to himself that the term rivals didn’t fit the category that he has you under in his head.

“It’s called love.” Atsumu draws the word out and Osamu smacks his arm, effectively making Atsumu bang his head against the table, “Dammit Samu! Stop doing that!”

“Stop being stupid then.”

Atsumu begins a snarky outcry of obscenities at his brother. He doesn’t mind it as he sees you walking past his restaurant. The sun makes it hard for you to notice him through the windows but he has a perfect view of you carrying boxes towards your café. Your steps halt as the top box begins to tilt, leaning the rest of the boxes in the same directions.

“I got you.” Osamu pushes the boxes, he takes the top half to balance in his hands, “I’ll help you.”

“Thanks.” You beam, “I see your brother is visiting.”

When Osamu looks at the window, Atsumu has his face pressed against the glass. His heavy breathing creating fog, “Samu!” It amuses you when Osamu knocks against the glass, sending Atsumu to jolt back, “Samu! Get me some onigiri from the café.”

“You’re literally in an Onigiri restaurant!” Osamu barks.

Your giggle pulls him along and as if cupid had struck him with fifty arrows, he follows you happily.

It came to no surprise for literally everyone when Osamu finally mustered up the courage to ask you out. In the after hours of work, he discovers you flipping chairs all by your lonesome; his hand knocks against the glass, it causes you to jump in surprise but it quickly fades when you see him motioning for the locked door.

“Where are all of your workers?” Osamu has begun to help turn the chairs onto the tables, something he’s accustomed to doing at his restaurant.

“I sent them home. I don’t like making them stay too late.”

Osamu thinks about how his workers are cleaning up at the moment; he follows you to the back, eyes trailing themselves over your body, he finds the way your hair is tied with ribbons to be cute and he wonders if you look just as cute with your hair down.

“Osamu?”

He blushes when you bring him back to reality, “Sorry, I was thinking about something.”

“I’m just finishing up some prep for tomorrow, you don’t have to stay.” Your hands dust flour onto the table, your fingers forming bagels for tomorrow’s breakfast rush.

Osamu stands next to you, he curiously takes a piece of dough, following your hand movements to form the bagel shape, “This is the first time I’ve formed bagels.”

“Really?” You glance at him, “You’re a natural, I’d definitely hire you as a chef.” Unexpectedly, Osamu feels your hand hold over his, “You just need to make sure it’s all uniform. I don’t think my customers would enjoy bagels that are one size five times bigger than another.”

It’s another two hours before you two finish forming and proofing the bagels for the next day. He waits outside the doors of your café, he can clearly see his workers are just about to leave too, they snicker seeing him waiting outside. He quickly motions for them to go away, when the door chimes, he pretends as though he was just about to scratch his head.

“Thanks for the help.” Your hair falls past your shoulders, Osamu wishes time would stop for a second so he could run his fingers through them. It’s just the two of you standing on the empty street, the lamps barely doing you justice, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Wait.” Osamu tugs on your sleeve, “Do you want to have dinner with me? Or will you? I mean, you don’t have to but if you want to.”

“Are you asking me out?”

Osamu gulps, “Are willing to go out with me?”

He may have reached another level of joy when you clasp onto his arm, “Duh! You’re a little slow but you got there eventually.” 

Osamu lets you drag him along the sidewalk, opting for a place nearby rather than driving elsewhere. He can’t help the smile of content on his face watching you stuff your mouth with food. The meal is comfortable and nice; but the date is absolutely, blissfully, perfect. At the end of the night, he walks you to your car, hands dug deep into his pockets and he isn’t sure if he should shamelessly kiss you or do the awkward hug and goodbye.

“Are you thinking if you should kiss me or hug me?” You laugh when he looks at you bewildered.

“Are you reading my mind?”

You lean forward, a whisper on you, “It’s a secret superpower I have.” The both of you chuckle and before he can register it, you stand on your toes, pressing a quick kiss onto his cheek. You open the door to your car as he blushes profoundly, “Normally I don’t kiss on the first date, the one on the cheek is just a guilty pleasure, because you’re cute.”

Osamu knew from the beginning that the competition shouldn’t have been one to worry about. What he should have been worried about was how cute the owner was.

“Uh-oh, here comes leader of the neighborhood watch committee.” Your workers snicker seeing him strut into the café, “Good morning mister Miya.”

“I have a complaint.” Osamu crosses his arms, eyes staring at you. He leans forward, “I’d prefer it if you kept your hair down.” His fingers pull on the ribbon in your hair, your strands fall to your shoulders.

On your toes, your lips meet his from over the counter; there’s a hum in him, “We take complaints here very seriously.” You steal the ribbon from his fingers, “But you know I can’t be walking around with my hair down.”

“I have a solution.” He situates a hat that he’s made appear out of no where onto your head. He pushes strands of your hair behind your ears and fixes the hat’s strap to fit nicely onto your head, “Perfect.”

You roll your eyes to your boyfriend, “It says Onigiri Miya on the hat doesn’t it.”

Osamu happily claps his hands, “Product placement.”

“You’re so shameless!” You set the drink in front of him, “Cash or card?”

Osamu scoffs, “You’re making me pay now?”

“Yup.” You wink to him, “It’s what boyfriends do.”

“You boyfriend trapped me with free matcha coffee.” Osamu takes the drink, pressing a kiss on your lips quickly, “Put it on my tab.”

“You literally don’t have a tab, Samu!” He’s laughing as he runs away with the drink, turning around to blow you a kiss before running off to his restaurant to prepare for the lunch rush.

[xo-cuteplosion-xo]

I’m going through a rough time atm and I was wondering if you’re okay if I request some characters with a s/o who is just tired a lot, can’t concentrate and don’t really have energy to do stuff.

I wish I knew what characters were your comfort characters, so I could make this even better for you! I hope you feel better and the little quick drabbles help you a bit. I went with my 3 most requested, as they tend to be more often than not comfort characters. I hope that’s alright with you! Feel free to drop another request for a character that I didn’t include here.

For hard times |Dazai, Chuuya, Atsushi x Reader|

Warnings: implied depression, symptoms of depression.

Genre: comfort-

Total words- 1504

Dazai:

417 words

From the start of this, he had suspicions you were feeling a little down. Watching you sit alone and look less cheery with the passing hours, days, maybe it had been a few weeks. He wanted to make you feel better, but he didn’t know how to. He was after all in your position most of the time. Unmotivated and too tired to do anything, let alone want to move about. He wanted to know what was pushing your mood down. This need grew stronger the longer he watched your tired expression. There was nothing this man wanted more than to make you feel better. Even if he didn’t understand what it was, that was pulling you under.

With careful steps, he walked over to you with a soft blanket, woven with soft strands of silky yarn. He set it over your shoulders, wrapping it around you. Watching your half-lidded eyes look over to him from the unexpected gesture he simply shook his head. Pressing his hand to your cheek, he softly smiled. The slight lift to his lips was only ever revealed to you. This kind, gentle, serious expression was his vulnerability. He hoped you would open up your woes to him. Let you rant and pour whatever feelings were bottling up and slowly dragging you down. He didn’t care what it was, a co-worker, a friend, a relationship of some kind, an ex, your family life, he just needed to help you. So as he watched you with honest worry, he pulled you close, so your head rested on his chest. “When you're ready, I’ll be here for you to drop your pain.” His voice was softer, lacking his signature playful teasing. There was nothing but an oddly comforting smoothness to his voice. Low and slightly choked as he held you. He was unsure if this little reassurance; this little contact comforted you. 

He’d hold you until you could no longer cry, or until you were peacefully asleep. Even then, he’d keep your body close to his. If he were to fall asleep, he would not let you go. He would never let you go, not until you felt safe and slightly better. Even if it was only half a percent of a change, he would be happy to have helped your mood lift. He’s never going to push you to tell him what’s bothering you. He won’t ask you to do anything you don’t want to. Well, except eat, he can’t have you starving. 

Chuuya:

474 words

He’d be too caught up with work to notice it immediately, the changes in your mood and behavior. That doesn't mean he never does though. Out of everybody in the mafia, you were the most important to him. He was willing to take any risk to keep you safe. If he finds out because you don’t show up and refuse to drag yourself from bed, he shakes his head, refuse wouldn’t be the right word here. It’s more like he understands you can’t. Something is crushing you like a weight, and he becomes determined to fix that issue. He hardly ever talks softly, but around your tired, nearly life-less form he’s soft. His steps aren't loud stomps, but instead a soft pattern of clicks. The heels of his shoes provide you a perfect rhythm. He’ll buy you chocolate because of the serotonin that they’re proven to induce. He never asks for details, he knows you would tell him if you needed to. However, just in case you are staying silent about the weight that’s causing this pain, due to the fear he’ll think you are weak. He hints that he would never see you in such a dull fashion. “Hey, you know you can always tell me if something is wrong, right? You know I keep my word, I won't judge or tell anybody else.” There was more he wanted to say. Part of that was an expression of how much he cared about you. He stayed silent in fear he would be selfish in doing so. If those words are the trigger for you to slip from holding it all in, he wraps you in his arms and lets you do what you need to. 

He doesn't care if you shout, pound your fists against his chest, cry, or do a mix of all of that. He wants you to get it all out until that weight can start to loosen, and you can start to feel free from the troubles holding down your smile. He’ll hold you after your meltdown. He will not let anybody else see you. They will not get a chance to lay a finger on you. If a specific person was the cause, like an ex, a bully, a sibling, he’ll wait till you're peacefully asleep, then have a… talk with them. He warns them that if you’re ever hurt again, they won’t get off with simply being terrified for their life. He’s insanely protective of the people close to him. You get the front of that protective nature, you’re the one he cares for the most. Whether you return such feelings or not, it won’t change anything. He hates seeing your tears, so he’ll always be there for you to cling to in such times. You are never alone, he will always be there to support you.

Atsushi:

613 words

When he first noticed you were down, he was working; doing the work Dazai had shoved at him. He liked to think you were a hard worker, so seeing you so… tired was a slight abnormality to him. He noticed how you were struggling to stay concentrated. Every so often he’d look over and find you blankly staring off, eyes glossed over. When everybody else was gone, he walked to your desk whilst fidgeting with the hem of his gloves. Taking deep breaths, he was upfront about what he’d noticed. “Are you feeling alright?” "I-I could uh take you somewhere if you want.” If you tell him you're fine, he’ll hang his head before gathering the courage to confront the lie. Even your tone was different; it sounded almost as if you had given up on everything. He knew that low, depressed tone. He used to have such a pitch to his own voice before he found his place here. He remembered how much pain he had gone through. The mental baggage of the past, the fear of what he found out was his own ability. He didn’t want that to be the pain rising in your mind. He’d pull over a chair and swipe away the pile of unfinished requests. “You’re not though. I-I don’t want to intrude, but maybe… maybe you should take some time? You seem tired, I could get you some sweets and other things if you want.” He would mutter the words under his breath until you shrugged.

When he returned, he found you on the agency sofa doing nothing but holding yourself; too exhausted to attempt to do anything. You couldn’t, not with how you felt. The thoughts racing in your head were too much to hold on to on your own. You wondered how people got this far with such a mindset. So trapped in your thoughts, you never noticed Atsushi take a seat at the other end. Sliding down bags of candy and flavored sweet drinks. He knew sugar induced serotonin, but wasn’t sure if that worked with everybody. The next thing he decided to do was look to the side and speak to you again. “If you’re going through something, I'm… we’re all here for you. The entire agency, you know, we're kind of like our own family? If you're hurting or holding something all on your own, you can tell us.” Turning back to you, he inched closer and reached for your hand. With a slow movement, he rubbed the back of your hand. “I… really am here. I’ve felt like this before… I know how hard it can be to tell others what’s bothering you, but please… can you promise me you’ll fight?” When he noticed your confused face, he decided to say it. “You’re important to every single one of us. So please, if it gets too much and you want to take it to an extreme, please… please come to one of us.” His eyes sparkled with a plea. He wouldn’t know what to do if you did something to yourself out of this pain. 

If those words cause you to rush in for a hug, he’ll return the embrace. Running his hand over your back in an attempt to comfort you. He’s not the best at comfort, but he does whatever he can to help. Whether you want to hear more reassurance or just have somebody to cling to while you're unmotivated. 

These things will eventually get better, with the right people, the right comfort, the right hobbies. These moments pass and light will shine. He hopes you’ll be able to see the light peek from the clouds soon.

[blueknightdg]

Consideration and Generosity

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

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug and Chat Noire, DCU

Characters: Marinette, Damian

----------

She sat on a park bench that day; the weather was hot yet, cloudy.

Despite the uncomfortable sweat clinging to her being and the buzzing noise of her surroundings, she smiled happily. She would do anything for inspiration, even endure the blistering feeling of the sun.

Soon enough it has been hours since she began to sketch and draw designs for clothing she wishes to make true.

She feels her head is off, so she takes a break to answer a text from her mother.

----------

(Mom) Marinette, are you still at the park? It's been five hours.

(Me) Yep! Just taking a break.

(Mom) Just now? It's really hot outside, have you eaten? What about water?

(Me) Don't worry! I'm fine! I stayed in the shade the whole time.

(Mom) Okay, but I want a picture of you eating.

(Me) Okay, I will. I love you!

(Mom) I love you too.

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

Marinette, packs her sketch books and other materials a way in her bag. She stands up, only to tip over onto someone walking past her.

"Hey, you-"

The person stops to keep her from falling all the way down.

"Uh... I'm sorry, I guess I should have taken a break earlier."

She tries to break a way from the strangers grip. They let her go easily. They began to walk a little further a way with a eye in her direction. She sits down again to collect herself. She takes a few breaths and thinks about how to get up without falling and embarrassing herself.

"I wish I packed a water bottle or something, I knew it was hot but I thought I would be fine....", she thought to herself.

She checked her bag in case she just forgot. Lo and behold there was a water bottle in one of the outside pockets.

"Huh....? That's strange, I was sure I......oh well.", she shrugged it off as her forgetting.

Feeling a little better, she carefully stood up. Having not fallen, she smiled and picked up her full bag. She walks in the direction of a small restaurant to eat, since she wouldn't make it home before hunger got to her.

She walked like she wasn't being followed. Casual and slow, she took in the buildings a round her. The same as her memories told her, but still just as beautiful.

Once she got to an empty table, she sat her bag down in front of her. The waitress walks up to her with a smile.

"Hello! Here is the menu, please take your time. Though I do suggest today's special! Mushroom soup with broccoli, carrots, and rice."

"Thank you."

"No problem!"

The waitress leaves her be and she focuses on the menu. It seems that this restaurant is all about healthy living.

She hums to herself as she thinks of her order. However, everything sounded wonderful and she couldn't decide. Then she heard a waitress bring someone's order of a tofu and veggie stuffed bell peppers with a side salad. So she looked over to see the meal and found that it looked delicious. She also saw they ordered tomato juice.

Looking at the menu one more time, she located the meal, drink and picked out a dessert on her own.

As soon as she put her menu down, the waitress came up to her with her pen and notepad out.

"Ready to order?"

"Yes, I would like the Tofu and Veggie stuffed Bell peppers with a side salad, tomato juice, and the vanilla, soy bean ice cream."

"Would you like a topping?"

"Yes, let's see....oh! The coconut sprinkles and strawberry drizzle."

"To repeat: Tofu, veggie stuff bell peppers, side salad, tomato juice, vanilla soy bean ice cream with coconut sprinkles and strawberry drizzle?"

"Yes."

"Okay, we will right on it!"

Marinette took out her phone as she waited. She texted her mom, that she was at a restaurant nearby. Her mom reminded her to send a picture of her eating.

A few minutes later and her food was brought to her.

"Thank you so much!"

"It's no problem, dear, tell me if you need anything!"

The waitress leaves to let her eat. She sends a picture of her food to her mom, who responded with the words 'smile and heart'.

--------

Change perspective

--------

His day was normal. He woke up and dealt with the hooligans that plagued his life. He was currently in Paris as a part of a stake out group. His family dispersed during day to do individual actives. His father wanted him near by, but he argued that he didn't need to be monitored.

His father conceded by saying he must practice being considerate of other people and to update him on how it is going and if he needs help. He was more than reluctant to agree. Regardless, he did.

He didn't like the loose nature of his apparel for the day, but had no chouce due to the heat.

Though by no means is his clothing loose in comparison to others definition. He prefers to be dignified at all times.

Most of the day, he had nothing report to his father that was particularly considerate until he notice the ragged look of a girl a round his age. She looked dehydrated and ill. He scoffs at her lack of self preservation until he notice she was immersed in some kind of sketching. He also remembered his has to be 'considerate' today so he will say she was lost to passion. After all, this is Paris, the city known for passion.

He watches her as she unconsciously squints and makes a grim expression at times. She sways ever so slightly.

In his observations, she stopped her work to look at her phone. Her condition is not well. He walks a little closer with a water bottle he bought. The moment he walked next to her and she stood, he stabilized her and slipped the water bottle in her bag as she spoke, trying to clear her head. She was drenched in sweat.

"Father better be grateful, I am being more than generous with being 'considerate', disgusting.", he thought with distain.

He hurried a way from her only to stop a short distance a way to watch her more and to sanitize his hands; to rid himself of the horrid feeling of her sweat.

The girl swayed less than before, but after updating his father of what happened, he was ordered to tail her. What if she collapsed? His efforts would have been in vain if that was so.

He was slightly frustrated and her slow pace did nothing to help. He only felt a bit better at her choice of eatery. He saw that she was heading for a Healthy Living Restaurant and went a head of her to sit down. He typed to his father that the girl was trying to decide what to eat. He was instructed to do what he thought best if he were to interfere at all. So he picked the most sensible option for her condition, in return, she followed and added something to her order.

He ate quietly and finished before her. He then left a large tip; the service was quick, the food palatable, atmosphere was pleasant and he doubted the girl had much on her. Enough to pay perhaps, but she would then be left with nothing else.

She seemed to be middle class, and the middle class does not make much little wealth, to him at least. Sure, her clothing was quite good with quality, but her manners weren't all that remarkable and nothing else about her was either.

Polite, is what she was. Quiet, unnoticeable, and polite.

To him, she was a foolish girl that dreamed too much and did little for her own well-being. Truly the epitome of moronic whelps.

After he left the restaurant, he watched from a distance. Through the window, he saw her tempt to pay, only to be denied. He smirked, perhaps he should visit this particular restaurant again and maybe even invest a bit?

He felt his phone buzz, his father typed, wanting to be updating on the status of the girl. It became apparent that some of the hooligans are now aware of his sudden punish- mission. Yes, this is a mission.

Protecting such weak plebeians is the duty of his father and him, also the unsightly hooligans- not well in his opinion- but he shall add them this once.

"Father is surely proud of how 'considerate' and 'generous' I am.", he believes, "Excessively so."

------

The day ends with Marinette safely returning home and the still mysterious young man facing his mismatched family.

The young man remained considerate as he ignored the jeers of the hooligans until he realized, he didn't have to any more and retorted as though his words came from the high heavens.

---------

The next time he checked in on the young lady, he had some knowledge of her background he shouldn't and decided to continue to see to it that she is well taken care.

"It's called being an arrogant, egotistical xsshxle with a God complex. She doesn't need your 'consideration', she is not a charity case!"

One loud problem claimed as he tuned him out.

---------

The young man did visit the restaurant once more and she was there. She would visit often and order the same thing as he had the first time. There were times she ordered something else and he would try things she experimented with, minus the meat.

She ordered meat less and less the more she came to the restaurant, he noticed. He had no clue why, since she obviously had no problem eating it.

He didn't order sweets as often as she did, but he would on occasion, get something with a little bit of sweetness to it; like the dried fruit sandwich with any type of sauce it can come with. The sandwich had fresh, and air dried fruit. There would be other ingredients and such to change the flavor of the sandwich, making it a popular item on the menu.

------

Change Perspective

--------

She felt like she has seen the same guy a lot over the past two months and is slightly worried. After some thought to it and the more she believed she was over thinking it and that it was pure coincidence. She did know, however, he had good taste in food and art. Plus that animals are so cute!! He couldn't be all bad if animals liked him.

She would walk a little closer and sometimes walk a little farther from him and since he never moved, she felt better. It really was a coincidence to her knowledge.

Eventually, she would would stop seeing him. He was a tourist, so of course he would leave at some point. Still, she was a little sad.

Oh well, school is starting soon, maybe she'll make friends to fill the loneliness her pretend friend left her.

She liked to pretend this stranger was her friends and that they hung out, since she saw him in most places that she was. She saw him at the restaurant and sometimes the park and rarely he would be at the museum. Technically he wasn't everywhere and not as frequent as she made it seem like he was, but if was often enough to remember him.

"You should have talked to him, get his number."

"But then he might have thought I was hitting on him! I just wanted a friend..."

"Sweetie, look on bright side! Either you can cherish memories that made you happy or you can forget him and move on. You don't know what life has in-store for you, it could be fun!"

"Thank you, mom. You too dad, I will see what happens."

"On that note, want help me frost some cakes?"

"Yes!!!"

-----

The end.

[evertriedsoywithyourpopcorn]

5 Reasons Roman Is Infuriating (And Why I DO NOT have a crush on him)

(Logince with a bit of denying and pining) Read on AO3

My first fic, based on my Logince drawing (If someone ever wants to make anything based on my art, feel free to ask. Making content is hard and people fleshing out concepts is always fun.) Word count: 3641

Tw: Cursing, Food mention, Balloon popping, Remus being his authentic self

Character’s: Remus, Virgil, Janus, Logan, Roman (At the end), Patton (Mainly implied)

~~~

He had everything ready.

"Ahem."

Three heads turn to look at him.

"Logan, I really don't understand why you're doing this. You know I'm literally the Lord of the Lies, right? I can tell when you're lying."

"Falsehood. I am here specifically to prove to you three, the ones that have doubted me the most, what I think of Roman, so that you'll stop teasing me about emotions that aren't even there." Logan says, standing in front of a long classroom table. Virgil, Janus and Remus sit there, each maintaining their own postures and looking at him with disbelieving expressions.

"Logan, we can see your heart boner from here. You really think you can convince us with a slideshow presentation?" Remus picks his teeth, seemingly bored of the idea.

"That's exactly what I'm doing- What? Why would my heart have a boner? It doesn't have the proper parts to do that-" Logan looks lost, clutching the presentation button in his hand.

"It's an expression, Pocket Protector. It means you've got feelings for him." Virgil sighs.

Logan squints at him. "Of course I have feelings for him." Logan looks behind him, to the SmartBoard behind him. The board turns on, displaying the presentation title. "And those feelings are feelings of irritation. My name is Logan Sanders, and welcome to my Ted Talk."

There is a collective sigh from the others.

Logan takes a pointer stick (the one with the little hand on one side) from a holder on the wall, and points at the words on the screen. "This is 5 reasons why Roman is infuriating. And unlike your cognitive distortions may suggest, I DO NOT have a crush on him." He gestures with the stick where the same thing is written. "So, let's begin."

~~~

1. He likes to insist that he's the most handsome side, despite us all looking like Thomas.

It's ridiculous. All of their traits are reminiscent of Thomas's.

There are some mild changes they go through when they aren't summoned, but they are just slight shifts. For example, Janus and Remus both have different long hairstyles, and they all have a bit of a hair color change. Their features do shift too, emulating ones Thomas has seen over his lifetime that he'd associate with their personalities.

However, in person and in the mindscape, Roman really thinks 'he's the sh*t' (Virgil taught him that expression). He flaunts his beauty over everyone else's, strutting like the prettiest peacock in the flock. Sure, he's good looking, but the same level of good looking as all the other sides.

"You're all so handsome. But not as handsome as me." Logan recalls him saying in an episode.

He tries to use it to one-up the other's, even though they all know they look the same. He also enjoys flaunting his ego, attempting to emulate a lifestyle of the rich and famous when he feels like it.

It's rather ridiculous.

"You think he's good-looking?" Remus coos.

Logan glares, and changes the slide of the presentation.

2. He fights everyone all the time. (Except for Patton)

It seems that Roman has made the most rivals out of everyone.

He's rivals with his brother, he's got a rivalry with Janus but with more betrayal behind it, he's got his past rivalry with Virgil, even though now they're the closest friends, and despite making up several times, Logan is also his rival. Patton seems to be fine, despite their post-wedding event. Logan believes Roman is too worried of defending what he believes in against the literal embodiment of Thomas's morality.

"So, you two have tried making up, but have you considered... Making out???" Remus pitches, his smile all teeth.

Logan sputters a bit. "Puh- Wha- I don't think that would work."

Logan has in fact not thought of making out with Roman, thank you very much. Not even when they're so close, passionately arguing about who-knows-what in the spur of the moment, where it would be so easy to move just a little bit closer and connect his lips to the soft pink ones of the prince.

He has not thought about making out with Roman, because he does not have a crush on him. Period. End of story.

The two of them argue a lot. Whether it's how Thomas should spend his day, to the Chicken or the Egg dilemma (Logan knows he's right, by the way, Roman just won't see that the egg came first), to the ideal temperature for a heating pillow, to the best Crofter's flavor. They can range from productive, to stupid, and by the end of it they may just be fighting about nothing at all.

They jab at each other, come up with clever arguments, and although they're technically fighting, it sometimes feels more like a duel.

"Or a mating ritual." Virgil says under his breath.

"These points don't sound very negative." Janus adds, twirling some of his hair with his finger.

"It is negative. We fight a lot. He fights people a lot. Every issue seems to be a battle to him that he can outmatch, despite being better suited as a civil discussion." Logan stands taller, trying to defend his point.

"Well, that makes sense. I understand this point now. Go on." Janus waves his gloved hand in a dismissive gesture.

"Alright." Logan clicks his presenter button, and the slide changes.

3. He's loud. Super loud. All the time.

From singing to dancing to bantering, there never does seem to be a dull moment when Roman is around. Some may call it nice, but Logan would say that's a very polite description. It certainly isn't nice when Logan's trying to get work done, or watch a movie, or enjoy a peaceful breakfast, or most of the time really.

Logan has stopped working outside when he's trying to be productive because Roman will, without fail, come in singing, and then start a little fight with Logan that distracts him from his work and renders him unproductive for a long time because all he can think about is Roman.

"Hm... Wonder why that is." Janus interrupts, rolling his eyes.

"Well, you don't need to wonder. I said it was because of our fighting." Logan nervously adjusts his already immaculately placed glasses, resuming his point to his slide presentation.

It's odd, because sometimes even without leaving his room, he can still hear the sounds of Roman's voice in his head. He theorizes the absence of all that noise is making him subconsciously fill it in ( even though his mind also provides him with clear images of Roman's smile).

He can't escape the noise on movie nights. Roman will sing along to any song, scream at the most poorly-timed jumpscares, and no matter what, criticize the movie. Logan does participate in that last step from time to time.

During dinners, it depends. Sometimes, Roman will come in and do his thing, sometimes he'll make a dramatic entrance, grab a plate and then go off to work on something, and sometimes he won't show up at all, off on a quest in the imagination. Those particular meals are peaceful. Sometimes they feel empty, but so far, no one else has complained. Especially considering with Remus' and Janus' seats added to the table, dinner can be a wild event.

Sometimes, when Logan gets lonely, he'll bring his work outside. Every time, he can guarantee that Roman will be there eventually. He provides a healthy distraction, and he always feels much lighter after a bantering session.

But most of the time, he just can't stand it. How can one be so flamboyant for so many hours of the day? Logan had theorized it had something to do with overcompensation, his need for validation and attention, but then thought it was strange theorizing about his friends and went back to work.

Overall, not the worst trait, but it being applied to every scenario adds to the fact that he is infuriating.

"Hold on, can we circle back to the part where you said you thought of him smiling-" Virgil begins, only to be interrupted by Logan pointing his pointer at him.

"No, we will not. Next point."

4. He makes up stupid nicknames.

And he makes a lot of them. Even during serious talks, you'd think he had forgotten your name and was too scared to ask, so he supplies an abundance of back-ups to make you feel special. And they are quite varied, though all slightly jabbing. There are play-on-words, references thrown about... It would have impressed Logan, had all of his designated nicknames not revolved around him being a nerd.

"Hey Microsoft Turd."

"I need your help, Egghead."

"Listen here, Erlenmeyer Trash-"

"Calculator Watch."

"Oh Book Geeeerm~"

"Sure thing Specs."

Logan actually didn't mind specs, but his point still stands. All insulting, clever, but still stupid nicknames. Sometimes, he wonders if Roman keeps a book of them around. Somewhere in his room, filled with all the names he'll unleash onto his unsuspecting companions. Logan may have tried to come up with a list of his own in retaliation, but he couldn't think of anything Roman would think was clever. He spent almost a full night on it, hair a mess, glasses askew, head resting on his desk as he tried to come up with something at least remotely good enough. It interrupted his perfect circadian rhythm. Never again.

Except for the next night, where he tried the exact same stunt again, but that doesn't matter.

What does, is that all of those factors cause aggravation. He always feels weird when Roman gives him a nickname, varying from annoyance to a strange tingling.

"Are you saying he should stop?" Virgil interrupts, frustrated. "This point is going nowhere."

"I-" He's not sure. Although some of the insults are quite jabbing, Logan does want to support Roman's creative process. Not to mention, the nickname ‘specs’ oddly does hold a place in his heart.

"OoOoOoohhh, I have an idea!" Remus cackles. Although Logan is hesitant, he gestures to continue. "Okay, so pinky swear I won't try anything on you, but just close your eyes, and imagine how this nickname would make you feel if Roman said it."

Logan apprehensively closes his eyes, and Remus does nothing but lean slightly forward in his seat, and puts on his best Roman impression. Which is pretty good, considering they're twin brothers.

"How are you today, my love?"

Immediately, Logan flushes bright red from head to toe, covering his face in his hands and squirms. Remus's cackling intensifies by a tenfold, and the other two are poorly failing to contain their laughter.

"That's- That's- That's... N-not a nickname. Th-That's a p-pet name."

"Awww, but you're blushiiiing!" Remus squeals in amusement.

"Falsehood. N-no." Logan says, not enough bite in it to hold value. "We are going to move on now. That just... caught me off guard." He says, adjusting his tie several times, trying to compose himself. "The point is, his nicknames are stupid, and I don't like them- No, don't look at me like that Remus even that one- so it adds to his infuriating nature." Logan grabs the presentation button and clicks it aggressively to the next slide.

"And now, for my concluding point."

5. He is incredibly and willingly dumb.

Sometimes Logan thinks he wouldn't be surprised by the illogical things Roman would say. And then he gets proven incredibly wrong.

"Much like your... 'illogical feelings', mayhaps?" Janus drawls.

Shush, Logan is talking.

Granted, both Creativity twins have proven to be rather illogical, as they are embodiments of creativity, a force that knows only slight bounds to logic. Only with a defying mind can people push boundaries in the advancement of society. That doesn't mean however that those defying minds need to be intelligent.

"I believe Virgil specifically had called Roman a.." He takes out his special cards, flipping through them. " 'A Himbo'. Judging from his past and present behaviors and from the definition itself, it is safe to assume that yes, he is in fact a Himbo."

One instance he can remember is during a picnic in the imagination. It was Patton's birthday, and Roman wanted to do something special, so he set up a picnic for them all to attend. Logan doesn't enjoy visiting the imagination as much, as when he's there, things become more realistic and that makes him feel like a burden. Regardless, it was for Patton's birthday, and so he decided it would be polite to come along.

Everyone was guided by a trail of flowers to an opening in the forest, where a giant picnic blanket was laid out, pillows thrown around, and a large picnic basket stood in the center. There were many balloons of pastel pink and blue tied around, and the birds were chirping in a joint melody. It sounds almost like Happy Birthday.

Logan, as he approaches, hopes that his influence won't cause ants to emerge, because although that would be realistic, it would also be quite the nuisance.

He and the other's are just dressed in their usual attire, but as Roman emerges from the trees, he is wearing a shiny red party hat to go along with his prince outfit.

Roman immediately goes to serenading Patton and placing a party hat on top of his head, light blue with a little pompom on the top. He ushers him to sit on one of the largest pillows, and then goes around giving everyone else party hats. Logan stills when Roman gets to him last, a dark blue party hat with little stars in his hand.

"Do I have to wear that?" He asks. Although, sure, it does look nice, he doesn't want to seem ridiculous.

"Come on, you're in good company. Please? For Patton?" Roman bats his eyelashes at Logan, who sighs and lets him put the party hat onto his head.

Roman runs off to the birthday boy, and they all sit down. The time passes peacefully, songs being sung and Roman releasing a horde of puppies to the joy of the guests. By the time the food is out, everything seems to be going well, until they're all eating, and Roman pulls out an orange. As he's about to peel it, Logan speaks up.

"Roman, I would advise against that." Which may sound ridiculous to most people, but Logan is an expert on many logical things. ( Orange peels have a flammable liquid in them called limonene, and as both it and a balloon, made of latex, are non-polar, the liquid can dissolve the balloon, thus causing it to explode.)

"Against what?" Roman asks, but he does stop his attempt.

Logan adjusts his glasses, ready to explain. "Eating an orange near a balloon. As I cause the imagination to become more logical, doing so will most likely cause-"

"Oh puh-lease! I'm sure whatever wacky science things you're going to say don't actually work here! I mean, there is plenty of influence to go arou-" Roman, the spiteful side he is, gets even closer to the balloon, starting to peel it. Lo-and-behold, he can't finish his denying before the balloon right beside him explodes with a loud POP. The sound sends him jumping back in fear, screeching to the nine hells, and then falling backwards onto another balloon, scaring him again. Several sides laughed out loud at his pain, while Patton watched him, worried. Logan smiled internally at the karma, before getting up and making sure he was okay.

Roman did spend the rest of the party in a sulky mood, but the party was still a huge success. They had some good food, and while Logan made Patton a flower crown, he fed him forfulls of cake. It was a nice bonding moment. When everyone separated to return to the mindscape, Roman waved them all off from the imagination door. Logan turns back to look at him, but Roman makes no move to follow them all out.

"You're not coming back yet?" Logan asks, adjusting his glasses.

Roman sighs. "No, not yet. I'm afraid this dashing prince has a little bit of cleaning to do. And perhaps an adventure. You never know." He leans on the doorframe, smiling.

"Well, that is correct. I in fact do not know what you'll be doing." Logan nods to himself. "Do you need any help cleaning? I doubt I'll be much help with the adventure, but I do have hands." He gestures to his hands.

Roman looks quite surprised. "Oh, thanks for the offer, specs. I think I've got it all covered though."

Logan offers a hesitant smile. "Alright then. Let me know if that changes."

Roman quickly smiles back, a faint pink dusting his cheeks, and turns back into the imagination and shutting the door. Logan stands there for a moment, but not sure why. It's clear that Roman was not feeling all that great from the balloon moment. Even Logan, terrible at deciphering emotions, can tell that much. Perhaps he needs to let off some steam.

He just can't understand Roman most of the time. They do have so many similarities, being too proud for their own good, but it's almost like they're in two separate worlds. Logan, the learner he is, wishes he could explore Roman's own. Understand it. Understand him, and his way of thinking. Even though Roman is mostly dumb, he does make good points, and Logan tries to prioritize his input, as it's usually what Thomas is hoping and dreaming for as well.

~~~

The last slide shines back at them all. A concluding statement that makes the three watching sides snicker a little bit.

"And I believe he just doesn't understand how much we all think he's great. I swear, he's just so dense! It's so aggravating! How can he not tell that he's worth everything? Why doesn't he understand that we all care for him? That I care for him? He's wonderful, for god's sake! And that I don't mean to hurt him with my critiques. I want him to thrive! I-"

Everything stops. Logan takes a moment of silence. The three sides look at him, each with different degrees of anticipation. One looks pretty much ready to pounce out of his seat.

"...Oh."

And all at once, everything gets strung back into motion. Confetti literally falls from the ceiling as Remus jumps for joy, circling a very mortified looking Logan. Janus, the tired soul, rolls his eyes and lets out a slow, long clap. Virgil just rests his head in his arms.

"I can't believe this. You sit us all down for a presentation you probably double-checked and proofread, like a nerd, and only NOW you realize you were wrong all along? Why didn't you say anything, snake-face?" Virgil complains, sitting up just to glare at him.

"Wo-ow, it isn't as if I was saying that this whole time? No, it couldn't be." Janus deadpans, sarcasm spilling from his mouth like an old, worn, broken dam.

Logan doesn't move from his stand-still spot beside the projector, but Remus manages to bounce in circles around him, cooing. "Lo-lo's got a cruuuush! A crushy crush! A crushed crust of a crush! A crevice cracking ‘cause of the crushed crust-" He was going to continue, throwing expired banana peels around to substitute rose petals, until the sound of the door opening catches everyone's attention.

"Hey losers, Patton wanted to know if you-" Lo and behold, Roman walks in, regal as ever, smiling until he takes in the sight before him. The boring classroom look, contrasted by the amount of confetti that stopped falling as soon as he walked in. Janus and Virgil, wide-eyed and looking at him, completely still. Remus, caught mid dance, frozen in place with a smile. Logan, looking at him in the way one may look milliseconds after being caught stealing government secrets. Roman's eyes flicker to each of them, before settling on the projector.

"Roman. I-I can explain-" Logan starts, but Roman is already reading the words on the screen.

"... 'In short, he saddles me with unnecessary... feelings'? 'Unease, and uncertainty'? Who... Oh my god! Logan!" Roman looks at him, smiling in disbelief and amazement. "I know what this meanssss!" Filled with giddy delight, he sidesteps the table.

Logan gulps as Roman approaches, turning beet red as Roman takes his hands in his two own. "Y-Yes?" He practically squeaks as Roman looks him right in the eyes.

"Yes! Ohhh, this is so exciting!" The three bystanders watch, once again in anticipation, as Roman swings their interlocked hands.

"Yes?" Logan offers a small, tentative smile.

"You have a crush on someoooone! Oh Logan, you should've told me!" Roman smiles, completely oblivious to the internal facepalm of several present members.

"I-I'm sorry..." Logan looks down, slightly disappointed but still too flustered to say anything.

"God save the dense." Janus mutters, inspecting his gloves fingers.

"Don't be sorry! Come, we must make plans! I shall be your matchmaker! This is going to be perfeeeect!" Roman, sings, dancing out of the room and dragging Logan along by their still intertwined hands. The other sides watch them go.

After a moment of processing, Virgil sighs. "Well, I thought that was going to be resolved. Turns out they're both as dense as... dense people." He can't seem to think of any other similes.

"Welp, I'm just happy that they're one step closer to getting. it. on. romantically." Remus punctuates every word with some rather immature hand gestures. “And that they stop dancing around each other.”

"Who do you think Roman thinks Logan has a crush on?" Virgil asks, cogs turning in his brain.

Janus lounges backwards. "Well, let's see... Soooo many options. Either he thinks it's someone outside of Thomas's head, or the simple answer..."

Remus and Virgil both look at him, both with looks of realization.

"Patton."

~~~

[jayeray-hq]

How He Shows You Affection: Miya Osamu

Hey guys, this one also really hurts to re-post, but I’m really hopeful that since the Kuroo one did so well, this one will too. It was my first request and from the amazing rice-hime too, which is probably the only reason it did so well, so big shout out to her for being amazing! Notes: 84

If you want to know why I’m re-posting check here

Post Time Skip/Manga Ending Spoilers!

Warnings: None all fluff!

How He Shows You Affection Masterlist - Character Masterlist

He Makes Time for You

            You waited patiently at your table, quietly sipping your drink as you waited for the store to close. It was date night, so you’d dressed up in one of your cutest outfits and while you could’ve waited patiently at home for Osamu to come get you you’d decided to surprise him at work instead. The way his whole face had lit up when he spotted you and the appreciative look in his eyes as he spotted what you were wearing made it more than worth it.

You didn’t get to talk to him for long, the restaurant was too busy for that, only managing to exchange quick greetings, and affectionate brush of the hands before he was forced to move on to the next customer but it was more than enough to tide you over. After all in just a short while you’d be able to have him all to yourself, so it was more than enough.

            More than one patron had wondered why Onigiri Miya closed early on Tuesdays. It was a strange day for such a thing after all. Most people thought it was a restocking thing, or a cleaning day, only those closest to you knew it was because your boyfriend had decided early on when he’d started his business that no matter how busy he got he was always going to set aside one evening a week that he could devote wholly to you. Thus the shop closed at four o’clock on Tuesdays and anyone who wanted to have their Onigiri had to come early or miss out.

            He’d had more than a few complaints about it too, but he’d never cared about that at all, waving them off and telling anyone who complained that it was their own fault if they missed out. After all the store was open regular hours all the other days of the week, and even stayed open late on Fridays and Saturdays, so there was no point in whining about one day.

            Once you’d tried to suggest that it might be okay if he didn’t, that you would be okay with him putting his restaurant first, as you knew it was his dream job, but he’d been very quick to shut that down. He’d insisted that yes, the restaurant was his dream, but you were part of his dream too, and part of his future and having time with you, just for you was important to him. You hadn’t been able to argue with him after that, and just gratefully accepted what he’d offered your heart full to the bursting for the incredibly man who had somehow fallen in love with you.

           A few years in and most of the patrons were used to the Tuesday closures, and knew to come early, but there was still the occasional late comer, who refused to be budged, and it seemed tonight was one of those nights.           He’d come in at four on the dot, pushing his way through the door and nearly knocking over the poor employee who’d been trying to shut and lock it, the open sign already flipped to closed, and hadn’t even apologized. Instead he’d marched right up to the counter and rattled off his order right into your boyfriend’s extremely unimpressed face.

            “We’re closed,” Osamu informed the clearly self-important business man in a bored drawl.           “The door says you close at four!” the man blustered clearly angry.

           “And by my count it’s now exactly,” he paused for a minute to check the watch you’d given him for your last anniversary that he wore faithfully every day, “4:01 sir, which means we’re closed.”

           “Well that’s a ridiculous hour to close anyway,” he informed your boyfriend flushed but not backing down, “Not even dinner time! Besides I came all the way here, the least you can do is give me my meal. I’m a paying customer.”

            “We’re closed,” Osamu repeated slowly for the man as if he were a petulant toddler than needed things explained very slowly and in small words, his tone making you hide a smile behind your drink, “That means everythin’ is turned off, and we’re all packin’ up to leave. I couldn’t make yer order even if I wanted to.”           “Well then what is she doing here huh?” the man demanded pointing an accusing finger in your direction, startling you enough you nearly spilled your drink, “I demand to be served too!”

            “She ain’t a customer,” your boyfriend informed the man, a clearly warning edge to his voice, “That’s my girlfriend, and she’s waitin’ there fer me ta be finished so if ya could please vacate the premises so we can get goin’ I’d appreciate it.”           “How unprofessional,” the man scoffed derisively, “Having your girlfriend here. I demand to speak to your manager.”

           “Yer lookin’ at the manager,” Osamu countered with a bored sigh, “And he’s tellin’ you to please leave so we can close.”

           The man blustered a bit more, but in the end he did concede, stomping out of the door and shouting how he was going to be in contact with the owner, and would be leaving a very poor review, which made you frown turning to look at your boyfriend in concern, though as per usual with him he looked completely unruffled by the whole thing.

           “’Spose it’s a bit too late to tell him I’m the owner too huh?” he asked when he saw you looking at him, his mouth curling into a smile.

           “Is it really okay?” you asked hesitantly, “I could’ve waited a little longer for you to make his food. I wouldn’t have minded.”

            “Well I woulda minded,” he countered casually pulling his hat off and ruffling a hand through his dark hair, making it fall across his forehead rather appealingly, “Sides, even if I wanted too, everythin’s pretty much put away anyway. I wouldn’t have had the ingredients.”

          “But what if he does leave a bad review?” you asked with a frown, concerned for his business.

           “It’s just one review sweets,” he assured you, “An if he does I’ll be sure to respond to it, if it’ll make ya feel better and explain the situation, though I don’t think it’ll matter much.”

            “Alright,” you agreed, feeling a bit better at his reassurance, “If you’re sure.”

           “I’m sure,” he told you firmly, “Besides I wouldn’t have wanted to keep my favorite girl waitin’ any longer than she has ta be, just let me wipe everythin’ down, do one final check and get changed and we can get goin’ on our date.”

            “Let me help,” you told him, quickly finishing your drink and tossing the disposable cup away moving toward the counter to grab one of the rags he kept there to help wipe down the tables.

            “Ya don’t have ta sweets, me n the rest can handle it,” he told you grabbing hold of the other end of the rag to hold you in place.

            “I know,” you told him with a smile, giving a quick glance around the shop to ensure no one could see before leaning over the counter to give him a light peck on the lips and explaining, “But we’ll finish faster if I help, and the sooner we finish the sooner I get you all to myself.”

            “Alright,” he agreed a playful smile on his lips, and a soft look on his face that he only ever shared with you, “Have it your way then.”

           “I will,” you told him with a grin, before bouncing off to do as you’d said you would a cheerful spring in your step as you contemplated how very lucky you were to have your man who loved you enough to set aside the time for you even if it meant dealing with angry customers just to spend a little extra time with you.

He Tugs at Your Ear

You stared out the window contemplatively watching the rain hit the glass. It was kind of a dreary day today and while you could sometimes enjoy the rain today it was making you feel a bit out of it. Frankly you had a lot to get done, but you couldn’t seem to drum up the motivation to do it.

You were so spaced out you didn’t even notice your boyfriend sliding a plate of food in front of you, and gently nudging your laptop away too distracted by watching the path the raindrops carved down the shop window. You probably would’ve continued with your daze, not even noticing the delicious smelling food just waiting to be consumed if not for the gentle tug at your ear.

The touch was a familiar one but even so you jerked slightly in surprise, your eyes turning to your boyfriend who had the lobe of your ear caught gently between his thumb and forefinger. It was a gesture he used a lot when he wanted to get your attention, a leftover remnant from his childhood with his twin, where Osamu would be forced to grab hold of him somehow to get him to shut up and pay attention.

Though you had to admit he was a lot sweeter with you than he was with Atsumu, probably because unlike his brother he had no particular desire to cause you pain when he was trying to catch your attention. He never twisted or yanked, just gently tugged on you, a disparity the blonde twin had noticed and liked to complain about loudly to anyone who would listen.

It was a rather sweet gesture honestly and an intimate touch you’d gotten used to after dating him for so long, even if it did still make you jump a bit from time to time, when he startled you, like he had just then.

“Looks like yer thinkin’ some pretty hefty thoughts there sweets,” he pointed out, his voice gentle with concern as he released your ear to gently cup your jaw running his thumb affectionately over your cheekbone, “Somethin’ botherin’ ya?”

“Nothing in particular,” you admitted with a wry smile, “Just feeling a little down I guess.”

“Well maybe this will cheer ya up,” he urged, nudging the plate of onigiri toward you, “Or at the very least fill yer belly.”

You couldn’t help the slight smile that crept over your face as you looked at the food he’d brought you. He’d shaped them into cute little pandas, no doubt especially for you and you didn’t doubt they were full of your favorite flavored fillings too.

Honestly you were pretty sure Osamu thought food was the answer for everything, and in some cases he was right, but this time just the gentle tug of his fingers on your ear had already lifted your mood a bit. The gesture more than enough to remind you just how much he cared about you.

He Cooks for You

The sound of your alarm woke you from a deep sleep, and you groaned quietly to yourself. It was morning again, and you really didn’t want to get up, but you had to work, so you slowly forced yourself to sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and heaving a tired sigh.

You couldn’t help the sad glance you cast at the other side of the bed, which was already empty, the sheets cold, the owner gone a long time ago, no doubt already hard at work at his store. These days you didn’t get to wake up with Osamu in your arms or him in yours very often the way you had when you were in college. Not when he had a store to run, food prep to do, and employees to supervise.

You understood even if it did suck somedays to not find him beside you when you woke. Especially the mornings when you woke up and would’ve given almost anything to hold and be held by him just for a little while. Still needs must, and you were sure if you asked he’d be more than happy to cuddle you all evening if you asked it of him. He was incredibly accommodating that way.

With a tired sigh you pulled yourself from the bed and got ready for the day, doing your morning ablutions, picking out the clothes you’d need to wear, and trudging to the kitchen. You yawned as you glanced blearily around the room only to have the whiteboard on the fridge catch your eye.

You and Osamu had agreed to get the thing so the two of you could let one another know if you ran out of things and start a grocery list, since your boyfriend got a little cranky sometimes when he didn’t have the ingredients he needed. However you also used it to pass notes to one another, and it seemed he’d left one for you.

His handwriting was fairly neat though judging from the way it was a little sloppier than usual he’d either been in a hurry or too tired to really concentrate on what he was doing when he wrote it. However, you couldn’t help the fond smile that touched your lips when you read it.

Mornin’ Sweets,

            Made yer favorite fer ya. It’s in the oven. Don’t forget to turn it off when ya take it out. Have a good day. Love ya.

-Samu

           Curious you turned to the oven, which was indeed on, though set at a very low temperature, just enough to keep the food inside warm without cooking it further. You followed his instruction and turned the oven off before pulling the foil covered plate out, peeling the wrap back to see what he’d left you.

            You weren’t able to stop the tender grin that spread across your face as you saw what he’d left you. He had actually made you your favorite breakfast, along with a couple side dishes he no doubt thought you’d like, including little sausages cut like octopi. It must’ve taken him forever, and no doubt forced him to wake up even earlier than he needed to be.

           Your lip trembled slightly your heart feeling so full it almost hurt, touched at the clear care and thought your boyfriend had put into this for you. You honestly couldn’t help tearing up slightly even as you smiled so wide your cheeks hurt. Eventually you managed to get your emotions under control and eat your breakfast feeling like you could almost taste how very much he loved you with each bite.

           Before you left for work you made sure to leave him a voicemail, knowing he wouldn’t see it until later, but wanting to express your appreciation all the same in the best way you could for the moment.

           It seemed he liked being able to hear your voice and your enjoyed your messages because it was the start of a new tradition. One where he cooked you breakfast every morning and you messaged him in some way in return to express your love and appreciation for your wonderful boyfriend.

[the-ghost-of-jason-todd]

i’ve been trying to put my thoughts into words for a while and i think i might have something.  this is based on nothing but my own experience, and invokes pretty much nothing but my own emotions, so read it or ignore it i don’t care whatever.

because truly... honestly.... if there is a canonically queer character and people are taking it and using it to explore different QUEER identities i just straight up don’t feel the need to care.  like it does not matter to me if you 100% retain the make-up of it’s canonical identity or not.  when people say that rep HAS to remain static and ONLY one tiny subset of queer people can write their own experience into the character and anyone who doesn’t do it exactly as it’s written is “stealing” that representation... it’s splitting hairs, man. 

i've said before that i can’t change canon.  because it’s... true.  that’s why it’s a transformative work, that’s why it’s FANon.  the fact that i can see myself in a character that isn’t 100% like me and i then use my own ‘bias’ for lack of a better word--it isn’t a bad thing.  i think it’s actually healthier to see more similarities than differences, because we’re stronger when we’re working together.  the queer community is so divisive these days and i just... don’t care for it.  i spent so long fighting truscum and transmeds and exclusionists and radfems and terfs and it’s exhausting.  so if someone is using different pronouns for a character, idgaf.  they have their reasons.  if it really rankles me i’ll curate my own experience. 

the real meat of this whole thing, i feel, is the fact that people contextualize canonical queer representation as “ownership”.  when a gay character appears in media, the gay community ‘claims’ them.  the problem, then, is that while you can claim a character in canon, you can’t really claim ownership over the way someone else experiences that character.  you can’t take an experience away from someone just because you don’t vibe with it.  not in a “oh i’m gatekeeping you’re not ALLOWED to do that” way--more in that you literally can’t scoop out someone’s memories.  so you may see yourself in canon, and that’s fine, we all understand that part, that’s not the problem.  but if someone who is different from you ALSO sees themself in canon, but maybe in a different way or through a different lens... well, you can’t really say they’re wrong, because you have no control over how they are experiencing something and also no idea what it is they DO see.

which sounds like a whole lot of meta nonsense, really, but it’s something that a lot of people talk about.  the whole “if a book has been read by a hundred people then there are a hundred versions of that book” idea comes to mind.  and also... fandom is SO varied.  people use it for SO many different reasons.  if i’m over here writing found family fics and someone else is writing PWP they aren’t “stealing” the found family from me.  two things can exist simultaneously.  and if, for instance, it’s hard to find canon stories that scratch EITHER of those itches i’m not going to get mad at the PWP writer for taking a canon about found family and using it to write smut.  because the found family still exists.  it isn’t an override.  existing in a different way does not automatically disrespect someone else.  ESPECIALLY when, after we peel off the metaphor, we’re talking about two people who are using two slightly different flavors of genderqueer non-gendered pronouns.  we REALLY have more in common than we do different, and i would be proud to share a character that could fulfill both of our needs at once in slightly different ways.  like... forget for a moment that i’m talking about murderbot, and imagine i’m talking about uhhhh *spins wheel* *spins wheel again* *spins wheel a third time* i’m actually seriously blanking on any they/them characters not in tmd right now.  i thought that one character in oitnb was non-binary but the wiki just uses she/her and i’m not going to keep digging. 

has a minor crisis about the fact that the only they/them i can currently think of is davepeta from homestuck  ah nuts and now maybe stevonie from SU ANYWAY the point is that i think it’s powerful when people use different pronouns for characters based on their own experience.  i think it shows the breadth of the human experience, and lets us rally behind what little queer rep we get.  it reminds me that human experience can be fluid and varied, and that we should all be able to see a little bit of ourselves reflected back when we look at others.  it doesn’t feel bad to me when people change a they/them characters pronouns to something else, because for the most part, i can still see part of myself and my own experience in that iteration/headcanon/experience, and i’m glad another person is able to find something to relate to in a character i love.

and THAT is what i’m talking about when i’m talking about sharing crumbs.

[ggukkiedae]

Dream VS Dream | JENO VS HANNAH

italics are spoken in english :3 purple questions are hannah’s for jeno to answer, orange questions are jeno’s for hannah to answer

“it’s a little hard considering the fact that jeno and i tell each other everything”

jeno, on the other hand, had quickly finished and sat down in their filming area

jeno, on the other hand, had quickly finished and sat down in their filming area

“hannah!” “what?” “hurry uuuup”

jeno bounced his leg while watching her write her questions down. he had a fond smile on his face

“she’s always like this. you should see her when it’s her turn to mc a question and answer portion”

a pen cap came flying towards him which he quickly dodged

“i can hear you, you oversized puppy”

eventually she sat in front of him and they stared at each other for a while in silence before speaking at the same time

“what?”

cue laughter from them before the scene cuts

“hello everyone, this is dream vs dream, jeno vs hannah edition” “yes, watch our friendship fall apart over questions like this is uno” “no english allowed here” “...”

the two played rock paper scissors to decide who’d answer questions first. she puts out scissors while he puts out rock. she groaned

“i hate this, you always win” “that’s because you always put scissors out first! because i won, you have to answer my first question”

the two exchanged their sets of questions and burst into laughter once they both saw the papers on the top of the pack

“yah! this is destiny, lee jeno” “lee haeeun, you are a copycat! we wrote the same question for the first round!”

the two showed off their slips of paper which, sure enough, held the same question. they high fived before hannah calmed herself and answered

“what does jeno mean in chinese characters?”

“what does hannah mean in chinese characters?”

“your name’s meaning in hanja? easy. je for king and no meaning to work hard” “huanuo’s just as easy. lucas hyung wouldn’t stop talking about it back in 2018. hua for flower and nuo meaning to be graceful”

she laughs at jeno doinh and impression if lucas’s voice and face, both quite accurate

they confirmed that their answers were both correct before movin on

how many rings am i wearing?

jeno hid his hands behind his bacm while hannah tried to catch a glimpse. then she smirked

“4. i helped you pick them out when we got here”

jeno’s jaw dropped and eyes widened at the realization which made hannah burst into laughter

“i completely forgot you helped me pick!” “it was pretty easy. our tradition ring, the friendship ring, the one that looks kinda like a rope, and the big one”

jeno face palms, chuckling to himself

“i can’t believe i forgot about that. anyway…”

what’s my favorite song from the hot sauce album?

jeno threw himself back on his chair with a scff

“my youth! the moment yoonmi accidentally played that instead of rainbow when we met with her and our team you would not leave it be until we added it to the album”

he looked at her accusingly meanwhile she was just throwing her head back and laughing

jeno nudged her leg with his foot to bring her attention back to the camera then pointed at the questions she was holding

what time did i set my alarm for?

“is this even a question jeno? 5:20! you always have it for ten minutes before actual wake up time!”

he looked at her approvingly and slightly in shock

“i thought you forgot!” “we room together during dream promotions!” “promotions haven’t started yet!”

she shook her head disapprovingly while jeno laughed at her

“if you get my next question wrong then i’m rooming with jisung when promotions start”

you can hear jisung in the background give a shout of approval making the two 00 liners look at each other and laugh

what time do i sleep recently?

upon jeno’s silence and thinking look, hannah reached forward and hit his arm making him yell out and hold the area she hit

“you know this!” “it’s been a year since we last roomed together! don’t hit me, it’s my birthday” “ever heard of birthday punches?”

she gave him a teasing tight lipped smile jeno reached forward and squished her cheeks in one hand

“stop that. 2. you never sleep later than 2 when there’s promotions”

she nodded at him proudly before swatting his hand away and reading the next question

what’s my favorite ice cream flavor?

“wait, i know this. i bought you this with other ice creams last night” “you better get this right or else all our late night talks while eating ice cream mean nothing” “how am i supposed to know which ice cream you eat?”

he was playfully staring her down while she thought back. she snapped and jumped a bit in her seat

“it’s a haagen-dazs one!” “which one?” “vanil— no, it’s a green one”

jeno clapped his hands excitedly an leaned forward in anticipation

“is it matcha? the green tea?” “took you long enough” “it’s not like you can guess my favorite ice cream flavor”

she rolled her eyes at him but he smirked

“baskin robins’ my mom is an alien. you and haechan get the same flavor every time. this or puss in boots” “...” “i know you, hannah” “damn it, jeno, read the next question”

how much was our tradition ring?

he laughed and gave her a look

“seriously? i paid for them” “but did you look at the price while you paid?” “good point”

he looked at his pinkie then took her pinkie and looked at the two rings side by side

“would you round it to the nearest tens?” “maybe?” “around $140 soooo around ₩155,000”

she patted his head

“nice job. $137, actually” “oh for real? i was guessing?”

they laughed and compared their rings again

“i’ve only taken this off once, you know?” “don’t remind me. i still haven’t recovered from that” “neither have i, jen. neither have i”

what’s something i wish i could go back and change in our friendship?

“honestly, it’s the same for you and me. november 30, right, jen?” “yeah. if i could have talked to you about that sooner then maybe we wouldn’t have fought back then” “i mean, you—”

her voice was bleeped out, and so was jeno’s for the next few exchanges. captions appeared on screen saying “mute for now to keep their privacy”

“glad we think the same thing”

she smiled at him and reached out with one hand, which he took while speaking

“no more secrets, right hannah?” “no more. now read my last question”

what’s my favorite thing about our friendship?

“you utilize my strength” “jeno!” “ow! i was joking!”

she hit his arm which made him laugh and rub it once again

“you like how comfortable we are. if we’re talking about specifics, you like how we can talk to each other” “correct”

she smiled at him and held her hand up for a high five which he gave

“the one person i tell everything” “no, you tell haechan everything” “i don’t technically tell him, he always just knows” “that’s so strange” “it’s the same with you and nana!”

they laughed before counting their questions

“good one, hannah, everything was correct” “looks like we care for each other equally then”

they stood up and dusted their hands off

“happy birthday, jeno. i’ll be sure to reserve yoh the green tea ice cream when we get back to the dorms” “no birthday hug?”

she rolled her eyes but hugged him anyway, kissing the tips of her fingers then patting his cheek with them

“happy, birthday boy?” “yeah”

they turned to the camera, jeno draping an arm around her shoulder

“we don’t have a winner for this round, i guess” “stay tuned for more dream vs dream. next time we do this, i’ll make harder questions that hannah can’t answer”

-end-

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #163

Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re making the Alter Ego of Pleasure, Meltryllis! This one’s easy, all we gotta do is make a vampiric ballerina A.I. out of water and strap knives to her feet. In vaguely medieval times.

Yep, real easy.

Nothing to it, really.

Won’t even break a sweat on this one.

Tootally not stalling here.

Fine, we’ll really do it. Build breakdown below the cut, character sheet over here.

Next up: She’s got huge... tracts of hand.

Race and Background

So, uh... tackling the big questions first, I guess. The obvious answer here is just Custom Lineage, but we’re trying to make someone made of acid here, and slightly reflavored human just isn’t going to cut it.

Instead, we’re going with Water Genasi because let’s be honest literally nothing would actually fit here, and we already set a precedent with Arjuna and Karna. This increases your Wisdom by 1 and your Dexterity by 2. You also get resistance to acid damage because melting acid is dumb, you’re Amphibious, allowing you to breathe air and water, you can swim, and you can cast Shape Water for some fancy ballet visuals thanks to your Call to the Wave.

Your background is... complicated to integrate into D&D, but you do get a lot from your mother, so we’ll modify the Inheritor background and make you an A.I.nheritor, giving you proficiency with Arcana (the closest thing to tech in D&D) and Performance thanks to your obsession with pirouettes.

Ability Scores

You’re good at spinning around and stabbing people with swords while spinning around, so make sure your Dexterity is as high as possible. Bending yourself into a pretzel is only half the battle though, so keep your Charisma high too. Your Wisdom also isn’t that bad, you’re usually hooked into the universe’s admin systems whenever you pop up, so you’re pretty aware of things, even if you can’t feel them. Your Intelligence isn’t that bad, you’re literally a hyper-advanced A.I., I bet you’re good at calculus. This means your Constitution and Strength are pretty low. You’re canonically built for offense, and while I would’ve dumped Constitution instead of Strength normally I checked out how much HP you’d be left with and that’d just be cruel, even for me.

Class Levels

1. Monk 1: We’re starting off as monk right away so you can have Unarmored Defense to make your Armor Class good even in a leotard. You also get Martial Arts, giving you a bonus action attack, dexterity based attacks, and a d4 minimum for monk attacks.

Just saying here that we’re reflavoring your heels as short swords. This lets you dual-wield for two shoes (though it is kind of redundant since you already get bonus action attacks with your kicks anyway) and they’re pointy and already monk weapons.

You also get proficiency with Strength and Dexterity saves, as well as the physical skills Acrobatics and Athletics to make your dance moves flashier and your routines longer.

2. Monk 2: Second level monks get Ki which you can use to Dash, Disengage, Dodge, or attack twice as a bonus action by spending a ki point. You get Monk Level ki points per short rest.

You also get Unarmored Movement, making you a bit lighter on your feet.

3. Sorcerer 1: It’s been said that eldritch abominations are just outside context problems for the universe, and it doesn’t get more outside D&D’s context than a sentient AI. That’s why you’re an Aberrant Mind sorcerer, which gives you Psionic Spells for free (most of which we’ll be swapping out) and Telepathic Speech, giving you the ability to tap into Seraph’s chat system to speak telepathically with another creature for Sorcerer Level minutes, as long as you stay within Charisma Modifier miles of each other. I don’t know how you could get two miles away in less than a minute, but have fun figuring that out.

Also also your Call to the Wave improves, and you can cast Create or Destroy Water once per long rest.

Speaking of Spells, you can cast those now by using your Charisma modifier. You get the first steps of the Melt Virus thanks to your Acid Splash and Tasha’s Caustic Brew to soften up even the toughest of enemies. You also get Blade Ward because seriously try to cut water. Message is just another chat program, and Sword Burst lets you try spinning. It’s a good trick!

You also get Arms of Hadar, Dissonant Whispers, and Mind Sliver for free from your psionic spells, but we’re going to replace DW with Detect Magic right away. You’re jacked into the system, magic shouldn’t be hard to figure out.

4. Monk 3: Bouncing back to monk real quick to become a Drunken Master. You can Deflect Missiles by kicking them back as a reaction, reducing their damage and launching it back if they’re reduced to 0. You also get a Drunken Technique, making yourself even faster when you start hurting people. Using a flurry of blows lets you disengage for free, and your walking speed increases by another 10 feet.

5. Sorcerer 2: Second level sorcerers are a Font of Magic, giving you sorcery points that can be spent to recharge spell slots, among other things that don’t unlock til next level.

You can also cast Comprehend Languages now, and you should replace Arms of Hadar with Identify. Just stick it in your inventory and read the name, it’s not hard.

6. Sorcerer 3: Thanks to second level spells, you can now Blur the edges of your body to become harder to hit. You also get Calm Emotions and Detect Thoughts as freebies, though neither one is really justified, which is unfortunate.

Thankfully all your other spells get cooler thanks to Metamagic! Spend sorcery points to change a spells damage type with Transmuted Spell or make it harder to save against thanks to Heightened Spell!

7. Monk 4: Bouncing back to monk again gives you your first Ability Score Improvement, so bump up your Charisma for stronger spells. You can also Slow Fall as a reaction to avoid fall damage because all those heels kind of act like shocks. You also get Quickened Healing to spend ki points to heal yourself as an action. This probably isn’t canonical, but trust me, you’ll need it.

8. Sorcerer 4: Now that your spells are okay, use this ASI to get the Elemental Adept feat for Acid spells. Your spells now ignore resistance to acid damage and all your dice count as at least a 2 for damage. Considering how much Acid spells love d4s, this is a serious upgrade.

This level, you can use Green-Flame Blade (Green-Acid Blade?) and Enhance Ability to make your dance moves even better.

9. Sorcerer 5: Fifth level sorcerers can autocorrect thanks to their Magical Guidance, spending a sorcery point to re-roll a failed skill check. You also get a proper Melt Virus upgrade thanks to Vampiric Touch, dealing necrotic damage and healing yourself. Sadly you can’t turn this into acid damage, but it’s still pretty good on its own.

You also get more freebies from Psionic Spells, Hunger of Hadar makes for a pretty good Sarasvati Meltout vortex for at a low level, creating an area of difficult terrain that deals cold and acid damage on creatures that start and end their turn in it, respectively. You also get Sending, another chat client that can work even with people in other servers (planes).

10. Sorcerer 6: Your brand new Water Walk will let you stay on top of your own Meltout.

You also get Psionic Sorcery, not to be confused with Psionic Spells, that lets you cast Psionic Spells without verbal or somatic components if you spend sorcery points. You can also ignore material components if they’re not consumed by the spell.

On top of all of that, your Psychic Defenses firewall kicks in, giving you resistance to psychic damage and advantage on saves against being charmed or frightened. Lets be real, your mother is way scarier than any dumb goblin could be.

11. Monk 5: Fifth level monks get an Extra Attack each action, so now you can kick with both legs without using your bonus action! Your Stunning Strike can also be used by spending a ki point to force a constitution save on a creature you hit with a monk attack. If the target fails, they’re stunned for a round, giving you the perfect opening to torment them even more.

12. Monk 6: Sixth level monks get Ki-Empowered Strikes, making your fists magical weapons. You’re kind of a magical construct, so that just makes sense. Since you’re a drunken master, you also get your Tipsy Sway, speeding up how much speed you need to stand up and letting you turn your pleasure into another creature’s pain by redirecting attacks that miss you.

13. Sorcerer 7: For your fourth level spells, you can use Vitriolic Sphere for even more Acid, possibly even taking more damage on the next turn unless they pass their dexterity save. You also get more Psionic Spells, but I’ll save you the headache and just tell you what we’re swapping them with. Get Arcane Eye this level, and Locate Creature next level. One benefit to being an AI; access to the world map.

14. Sorcerer 8: Grab the Piercer feat to round up Dexterity, boosting your AC and attack power. You can also re-roll a piercing die once per turn. You also deal an extra die of damage on critical piercing attacks. You also get a Watery Sphere to restrain creatures within... drumroll please... a watery sphere. A great way to hold enemies in place while you pelt them with acid.

15. Sorcerer 9: Your fifth level spells include Enervation for a longer lasting Melt Virus, as well as Psionic Spells Rary’s Telepathic Bond for a whole chatroom, and Legend Lore. Tune into the BB channel to learn about your favorite subjects!

16. Sorcerer 10: Grab Quickened Spell as your third Metamagic option to add extra power to your rounds. Attack twice as an action, then Green-Acid Blade for even more pain!

You also get Skill Empowerment to give yourself expertise on skills you’re already good at for the greatest dances you’ve ever seen. We’re also pretty much set on good cantrips, so grab On/Off for the flavor. You can now turn nearby electronic devices on or off as an action. Honestly you could probably use a lot of the Modern Magic spells if your DM allows for it.

17. Sorcerer 11: Tasha’s Otherworldly Guise gives you a fancier outfit that makes you immune to fire and poison or radiant and necrotic damage depending on what role you choose to play. You’re also immune to being poisoned or Charmed, respectively. Your weapon attacks are now magical, and you get +2 to your AC. You get a flying speed for truly impressive jumps. You can also use your Charisma instead of dexterity to attack, but your dexterity’s better, so...

18. Sorcerer 12: Use your last ASI to bump up your Charisma. Stronger spells are always good.

19. Sorcerer 13: With your new seventh level spells, you can fully unleash your sadism thanks to Power Word Pain. If the target has fewer than 100 HP and it can be charmed, it becomes wracked with crippling pain. It can only move 10 feet per round, it has disadvantage on attacks, checks, and saves (aside from constitution saves). It also has to succeed on a constitution save to not waste the spell slot. At the end of each turn it has to try and make a constitution save, otherwise, the spell is indefinite.

20. Sorcerer 14: Your capstone level turns you into a Revelation in Flesh. As a bonus action, you can transform yourself for 10 minutes using 1 sorcery point for each ability you want to activate. These options include:

Truesight on invisible creatures (6/10 canonicity, might as well with all the divination spells you’ve got)

A flying speed (8/10 canonicity, can justify with sick jumps)

A swimming speed and underwater breathing (5/10 canonicity, but you already have these abilities so it doesn’t really matter)

Your body becomes basically liquid, able to squeeze through inch width gaps and escape from grapples and restraints. (10/10 canonicity, this is literally why we’re here.)

Pros:

With deflect missiles, a decent enough AC of 16/18 with Tasha’s Guise, and your Psychic Defenses, you’re decent enough at dealing with ranged attackers.

This is especially useful, as your mobility will keep you one step away from the melee fighters, letting you pick and choose your fights. You’re fast, and you can fly or run on water for extra escape options.

For most damage types, elemental adept is a nice addition, but nothing game changing. Not so with acid spells. So many acid spells use d4s, meaning the difference between 1 and 2 is greatly appreciated, as is the ignored resistances.

Cons:

If something can catch up to you, it’ll find out real fast just how squishy you are. Those sorcerer hit dice did not do you any favors, leaving you with only 75 HP. Be careful around high level casters with a good antivirus (Power Word Kill), or they might just delete you. Also literally any fighter.

While elemental adept helps, Acid Immunity is also pretty common in D&D. While Transmuting your spells (and just hitting people) will help keep you from being a sitting duck in those fights, it’s still a glaring weak point.

Outside of your spells, your physical attacks aren’t particularly powerful thanks to being stuck with short swords. So if you start running out of spell slots, retreating might be a good idea. A glass cannon without the cannon is just a bad thing to be.

[ffwriterbts]

Lunar- BTS Werewolf AU Part 4

AN: As I’ve said before, if slowburn BTS werewolf AUs that have springlings of angst, smut, and fluff, this is the story for you! Other than that, please leave a like or comment so I know you’re enjoying the story!! The sections should start getting longer as I keep updating :) 

Also! Let me know if you want to be on a tag list for this story! 

Word Count: 7.7k

Warnings: General angst; slight medical talk; mental health issues; soulmate themes if you squint

Posted: 31 Dec 2020

Masterlist

Previous Next

When YN wakes up, she is lying in what looks like a fancy hospital room. Her shoulder is on fire, there’s an IV in her hand, her leg is propped up in an almost uncomfortable way, and all the rest of her feels like she was repeatedly hit by a cement truck. 

YN tries to sit up, but only makes it a few centimeters before pain wracks her body and she stops in her tracks. Her eyes snap shut and she takes a few deep breaths, doing her best to remember what happened and where she was.

And- nothing. YN doesn’t really remember anything that happened. 

That is, until Jin walks into the room, and everything hits her all at once- how Jin and Yoongi came to cook, how she was going back to the garden to grab her phone when a mystery wolf tried to harm her, how Yoongi transformed into a giant black wolf, how he fought for her, how Jin helped her. 

“I didn’t expect you to wake up so soon. Welcome back, YN.” Jin breaks the silence, and YN’s eyes snap up to him. 

“I-” YN starts, taking a second to collect her thoughts before continuing. “What happened to me?” Her voice is gruff, hoarse. 

“You were attacked.” Jin gives a little shrug before continuing, “Your shoulder was bitten, your ankle broken, you have three cracked ribs, and deep tissue bruising on the side with the bite. Other than that, you’re covered in scratches and bruises from the dragging and the nasty fall you took.” 

“Oh.” 

“Don’t worry, you have the same blood type as Jimin, and he was more than happy to donate for you. The wolf blood will have you healed by the end of the month for pretty much all of it. The ankle will take a little longer.” Jin shrugs again, going around and checking all of the monitors, making sure everything was good before he makes small talk with YN and helps her sit up, giving her water. 

Once he is sure she is as fine as she can be, he takes a seat at the end of the bed. YN can feel her ears get hot as she realizes that he has plenty of room, seeing as her legs don’t even reach three-fourths of the way down when she’s lying, much less when she’s sitting up. She doesn’t know why she feels this embarrassment, but she does anyway, and she silently hopes that Jin doesn’t know. 

“You must have questions, so why don’t I give you the full story?” Jin lightly pats where YN’s good foot is, smiling warmly at her. “If you want me to, of course.” 

“Please, I feel like I’m going crazy.” YN’s voice is much softer now, as she looks at him with those big, innocent eyes of hers, sipping water. 

“Well, I hope you’ve figured out by now that we are all werewolves.” Jin lets out a little laugh as YN nods softly. 

“We are a hidden race among humans, almost extinct. There are a few large groups over in America, there’s a couple here, a few somewhere in Europe, and a whole bunch over in Africa. There’s also a city of only wolves and special, trusted humans in China, which is also hidden from the world. We are bigger, faster, and stronger than even the very best human. We have the ability to change into wolves whenever we want, so long as we are fully healed.” Jin takes breath, looking to YN to make sure she was following along. 

YN nods, eyes trained on Jin as she listens, and he continues. 

“In order to survive, we had to breed with humans, muddle the gene pool. The fastest, strongest, largest of the humans, they are all part wolf. Our pack is one of the purest here, genetically speaking, but we would be considered basically human by our ancestors. But, to be fair, some humans are able to be welcomed into packs.” 

“Packs?” YN asks, head tilting slightly to one side as Jin smiles. 

“Yeah, like wolf packs. There are Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, which are basically what you think they are, though there is a lot more variation than you would think. Each designation is on a sort of scale, though that scale is not something that can easily be explained.” Jin gives another half shrug, glancing up at the IV, before standing and doing something that YN didn’t understand. 

“Here, let me get this changed so your body doesn’t starve or dehydrate. And I’ll let the rest of the boys know you’re awake, they’re excited to meet you and make sure you’re okay.” Jin clearly makes the move away from the subject of werewolves, and even though YN’s mind is swirling with questions, she doesn’t question the dropping of the subject. 

YN assumes (correctly) that any and all questions she possibly has will be answered in time, because something about the way Jin putters around the room doing this or that feels like coming home. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next week, YN steadily gets better. Whatever it is about the werewolf blood that makes healing kick it up into overdrive was working better than expected, which all of the boys were grateful for. She had visitors every day, for most of the day, and she quickly got along with each of them. 

Jin, who YN found out was actually a fully licensed medical doctor and surgeon, mandated that the boys were only allowed to go and see her in pairs, so she wouldn’t be overwhelmed. 

And thus, YN met Hobi and Jimin almost as soon as Jin opened the door to let the boys know she was accepting visitors. She could see who she would later find out to be Jungkook and Taehyung peaking in the doorway, wanting to be included but not being allowed to be. 

Both Hobi and Jimin very enthusiastically introduced themselves, taking no time at all to occupy the end of the bed that YN was far too short to occupy herself. Talking to them felt like talking to people she had known for years, and they had YN almost rolling with laughter within the first five minutes. 

It was almost an hour of not-so-patient waiting on behalf of Taehyung and Jungkook before Jin came back and kicked Hobi and Jimin out, scolding them half-heartedly for not letting the other two have their time yet. 

With quick apologies, those two boys slipped out of the room as two more replaced them. Again, just as enthusiastic, the two boys introduced themselves, and had YN in stitches almost too quickly. 

Without a second thought, YN is talking with them for almost two hours, before Namjoon comes in and cuts them off. He kicks the two youngest out of the room, telling them that YN needs to rest sometime, that she has to heal. 

Namjoon in turn takes the same spot at the end of the bed, but he is bearing gifts. Namely, the gift of her electronics from her home, a nice lap desk, and some of her very favorite sour candy.

“I figured you would want these things, seeing as you’ll be here for a while.” Namjoon smiles softly as he almost sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. 

“Oh, thank you!” YN is much more animated than she was even an hour ago, snatching the sour candies from Namjoon’s hand as quickly as she dares to, trying her best to open the bag without moving her one arm very much. 

“Do you want some help YN?” Namjoon’s voice is soft but deep, and YN nods without even a second’s hesitation, holding out the offending bag with a small pout. 

Namjoon just chuckles, making small talk as he easily opens the bag, carefully handing it to YN. She lets out a grateful sigh, carefully balancing the bag in her hurt hand, and throwing candies into her mouth. 

“How’d you know I like these?” YN asks absently, paying far more attention to the wonderful flavor than to Namjoon and his response. 

She was tired, her body was sore, and honestly, she was more excited for her candy and the prospect of a nice long sleep than she was about anything Namjoon had to say. That was, at least, until she actually heard the words that came out of his mouth. 

“Oh, we can read minds. We know all sorts of things about you.” His voice was that same even calmness, to the point that YN didn’t actually register what was said for almost a whole minute. 

“You… you what?” YN pauses and looks up at Namjoon, shock and confusion written so clearly on her face that Namjoon didn’t even need to read her mind to know exactly what she was thinking. 

“Hyung was supposed to tell you, but yes. It’s an innate ability of ours, and once you present you’ll probably be able to do the same.” Namjoon gives a little sort of half shrug as YN’s face just scrunches up more as she tries to fully process what Namjoon actually said. 

“I can see you’re confused.” Namjoon speaks again and YN rolls her eyes without taking a second to think about how that might be perceived. Sure, the men she had met had all been incredibly kind to her, but that doesn’t mean that they’re comfortable enough to start with the half-bratty sass that YN was known for with her close friends. 

“Yeah, I wonder why.” YN speaks for the first time, her eyes locking up onto Namjoons in a way that seemed out of character for the girl that he had begun to get to know. “It’s not like this is a lot to process or anything.” Sarcasm seems to drip from every pore like venom, and Namjoon pauses for the first time, slightly confused. Again, this was unlike the character that he had come to know as YN.

He’s sure YN doesn’t mean any harm by what she’s saying, that much is clear to him because of her thoughts, but he was under the impression that YN was just a sweet, mild mannered woman. Silently, Namjoon chides himself for allowing himself to believe that YN, a fully functioning adult woman, was something other than a three dimensional person with multitudes to her personality. 

“May I ask some clarifying questions?” YN asks after a short silence. For the first time, she felt slightly uncomfortable in the silence, wondering if she had actually offended Namjoon inadvertently. Usually, she tried to tame the more bratty side of her personality for fear of being hurt by someone she completely offended, and it seemed to hit her all at once that these men, who were already giant in comparison to her, also held an unknown strength.

YN’s fears are assuaged when Namjoon gives her a beautiful smile, nodding his head and motioning for her to ask away. 

“How much of my head can you see?” YN tilts her head to one side, not catching how strange her phrasing is until Namjoon lifts an eyebrow. By that point, too much time has passed for YN to really change her statement, and she can feel her ears getting hot as she waits for Namjoon to actually respond. 

“Well, any of us can read basically any thought you have. We can also access memories, though it is incredibly frowned upon to do so, as it is sort of like torture for the person whose mind you look into for that one. But, we can also teach you how to make sure we can’t see inside your mind, and when the door to the room closes, we can’t see into anyone inside the room.” Namjoon answers with a sort of practiced nuance, which is comforting to YN in a strange way. 

“Do you look at my thoughts all the time?” 

“No, of course not. That wouldn’t be fair, and honestly, we don’t really look in your mind at all. You do throw off emotion, but that’s different in the first place.” Namjoon gives that same little half shrug. 

“How’s it different?” YN’s voice is much softer now. There’s something about the way Namjoon speaks that makes her feel like she’s coming home. 

She shakes the feeling, instead trying to focus on what Namjoon has to say.

“When in the pack, emotions are shared and felt by the other members of the pack, to varying degrees. When it comes to other wolves, we are sensitive to their emotions and have a large amount of completely non-verbal communication. Part of why you’re so interesting to us is the fact that we can feel your emotions, though you clearly aren’t fully wolf.” Namjoon pauses, brow furrowed. 

“What does that mean?” YN’s expression turns to match Namjoons. 

“It means you’re one of us. But also that you’re not.” Namjoon brings a hand up to rub the bridge of his nose. “I’m not sure what it means, honestly. You smell like an Omega. You act like one, mostly. But you clearly won’t be able to turn once you finish presenting, you know nothing of our world or customs, you’re absolutely tiny.” 

YN shifts uncomfortably when Namjoon looks up at her, her ears heating up again, though she has no idea why she’s embarrassed. It’s not her fault she didn’t know about a hidden society of werewolves, after all. 

Namjoon opens his mouth to say something else, but the door opens and Jin steps in. 

“Namjoon, go separate Taehyung and Yoongi. They’re at it again. Both of them are acting like children.” Jin lets out a deep, exasperated sigh. “And you need to leave YN alone, she needs to heal. Didn’t you say the same thing to Tae and Kookie just a bit ago?” 

YN can’t help but smile softly at the familiar interaction, almost laughing when Jin shoos Namjoon out of the room. 

“As for you, Miss YN, you need to actually rest. Don’t be afraid to tell any of the boys to leave, they know full well that you are here to heal.” Jin gives YN a bright smile as he reaches behind her to make sure her pillows are arranged correctly. 

YN nods, a grateful smile on her features. “I’ll do my best to heal well, thank you.”  She speaks softly, her thoughts a jumbled mess after everything Namjoon told her, her prior annoyance and attitude melting away.

“Do you need anything else? It’s getting late enough I’m going to leave you, I know Namjoon set you up with your technology and chargers.” Jin stands in the doorway, facing YN. 

“No, thank you! I’m good until tomorrow.” YN answers quickly, arranging herself so she can rest comfortably for the night. 

“I’ll leave you then. If you need anything through the night, there’s a call button on the side there. Good night, YN.” 

“Good night!” YN calls, watching as Jin flicks off the light and closes the door. She then proceeds to lay there, in the strange bed, and stare up at the ceiling. 

It was a lot to process, everything that she’d been told. 

“I’m fucking crazy.” YN groans, sighing deeply and checking her phone for the first time in what could have been weeks. 

She was unsurprised to see that the only notifications she had were from her editor, sending back things for her to work on and asking for the corrections and newest works.

YN can’t help but sigh again, throwing her phone to one side and settling in better. She was thankful to the men who had saved her, and she knew somewhere deep down that she could trust them, but it was just a lot to deal with. 

What did it mean that she smelled like an Omega? What the fuck did it mean to present? What did Namjoon mean when he said that she threw off emotions? 

YN was confused, to say the least, but as she relaxed more and ignored the aches of her body, she realized just how tired she was. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, even with her mind swirling with question after question about what everything meant.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was three weeks before YN had the use of her arm back, her shoulder only stinging slightly when she actually used her arm properly. It was another month after that before YN could walk on her ankle, which had been almost shattered from the attack. And that whole time, YN was bonding with the boys. 

She quickly found that the three youngest were incredibly physically affectionate, which YN just adored. She quickly found herself curling up beside Jimin, playing with his hair and feeling completely enveloped in his arms. Or laying across Jungkook’s lap, laughing at his facial expressions as he played his games. Or jokingly having Taehyung carry her around, lovingly calling him her “trusty steed” from her perch on his back.

She found that Jin’s love language was acts of service, which usually translated into him cooking this or that for the group. YN quickly fell into the habit of helping Jin as much as she could sitting at (or on) the counter, laughing at his dad jokes and making some of her own. She made sure that Jin didn’t forget to serve himself as well, always sneaking some of the best parts that he gave to her back into his own portion.

She found that the best way to bond with Namjoon was to just talk to him, about anything and everything, especially philosophical topics. Both YN and Namjoon loved the debate of this or that, the exchange of ideas, the passion of discussing things that others find to be boring. They would spend hours sitting in the library and reading this book or that novel, just to discuss it as soon as both of them had finished, getting off topic in that special way that isn’t really off topic, if you think about it on a deeper level. 

She found that Hoseok loved to dance, loved to explore music and feel it through the movement of  his body. While YN wasn’t able to stand and actually dance with him, even though she would have loved to, she did suggest new songs for him to try making routines to, bringing him water and snacks every so often. He would always ask her to stay and watch, which she did, always giving him the biggest applause she could at the end of the beautiful dances, talking his ear off about her love for movement like that, even if she couldn’t ever really do it herself. 

She found, however, that it was with Yoongi that she felt the most at peace. She quickly gained access to his ever-so-exclusive “genius lab,” where he made his music. Most of the time, YN would work on her writing as Yoongi worked on his music, the studio space filled with the soft sounds of YN’s typing and the sounds of whatever Yoongi was working on. They didn’t need to talk, instead the two sat in silence most of the time, just enjoying the fact that there was someone else there who understood that being together was all that was really needed.

Every so often, Yoongi would spin around in his chair and capture YN’s attention, asking her to listen to something and give her opinions on what could be improved or changed to make the song sound better. While YN didn’t have a lick of musical experience, she was sensitive to sounds and could pick out parts that didn’t quite mesh correctly with ease, which is just what Yoongi needed. 

On the flip side, when Yoongi was taking a bit of a break to stretch, YN would ask him to make certain motions or how to say certain things in different accents to help her be able to write this or that out in a way that actually made sense. Her editor was praising the way her work was coming back with less mistakes and awkward parts, and YN was absolutely loving the way she and Yoongi got along. 

And yet at other points, when neither Yoongi nor YN could seem to focus long enough to get anything done, the two would lounge side by side on the couch and just talk. They never really had something specific to talk about, but YN would find herself opening up about things that she had never told anyone else. She would find herself listening intently to whatever Yoongi decided to open up about, carefully choosing her words in a way that was meant to make him feel better, without making it feel like she was dismissing the feelings that he had in the first place. 

It was a system that worked, with YN falling into the routine of the home far quicker than any of them would have ever expected.  She found joy in helping Jin cook, she felt loved at the unashamed touchiness of Jimin and Taehyung, and again in the much more shy touchiness of Jungkook, she found quiet appreciation in sharing music and watching Hobi, she felt wanted during the long conversations and debates with Namjoon, and she felt at peace with Yoongi. 

She felt like she was home.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But nothing can last forever, can it? YN knew just as much as the rest of the boys that she would have to go back to her own home eventually. 

And so, after two and a half months of living with the seven men, YN was taken back to her own home. 

Jin’s the one who drove her, with Namjoon riding shotgun. There was an aura of sadness the entire time, like none of them really wanted to go anywhere, but it wasn’t like YN could just move into their house. 

This wasn’t a movie or some crappy romance novel, after all. It was real life, and in real life, people don’t just pack up and move into the home of people who were basically strangers. 

The whole parting was quiet. YN couldn’t bring herself to actually say the word “goodbye” to either of the men who had come to make sure she got home safe, instead throwing her arms around their necks and giving them a good squeeze, wishing that she didn’t have to leave. 

The whole thing rang the same as the way she had parted with the other boys before the drive, the ache settling into her chest like someone had ripped out her heart and thrown it under the tires of the car as it pulled away, tears falling freely as a sharp longing settled in her stomach. 

It wasn’t until Jin and Namjoon left that YN actually cried, sobs tearing out of her throat as she crumbled to the ground, knees hitting the hardwood sharply. 

She had no idea how long she stayed there, feeling like there was a hole ripped into her very being, wishing for the comfort of Yoongi’s words, or Jimin’s wonderful hugs, or of Jin’s gentle prodding to “eat well.” 

Eventually, YN drug herself to her feet, stumbling to the kitchen and chugging some water before grabbing the bag she had borrowed to take her things back to her house, deciding she needed to put things away. 

“Why did I let them pack the bag?” YN groans, finding quickly that she is wholly unable to actually pick the bag up, and instead has to drag it to her room. She’s silently thankful for the wood floors because she can actually slide the bag. 

It isn’t until she gets to the last couple sweatshirts in the bottom of the bag that YN realizes she’d picked up a few presents from the boys. Shaking her head, she realizes why they had insisted on helping her in the first place, each of them had gifted her something small and they didn’t want her to refuse them, like they knew she would. The knowledge of how kind they were being was completely bittersweet, however, because they felt like “goodbye, at least remember us” presents.

From Jin she got the knife she quickly claimed was her favorite because it was the only one that was properly sized for her. There was a small note attached tha read “For my favorite kitchen helper, since it’s too small for me, -Jin” 

YN felt the tears well up in her eyes as she carefully set the knife to the side, not wanting to accidentally hurt herself. She then reaches back into the bag, wondering what else she might find. 

Hobi’s gift was next, giving her the one black headband of his that she always stole and jokingly wore around. It was wrapped around an adorable little teddy bear, with a note saying “For my favorite dancer, even if you couldn’t really do anything. Next time, I’m sure you’ll show me up -Hobi <3” 

Tears were flowing down her face now, but YN couldn’t stop looking for what was next, no matter what kind of feelings arose from it. 

Next she found one of the small figurines from Jungkook’s games, the one she always told him was her favorite because of it’s cool jacket. The note simply read “He might be your favorite, but you’re mine.”

YN smiled at the lack of signature, getting up and placing the figure on her nightstand, carefully angling it so it could watch over the room. Taking a seat on the edge of her bed, she reaches into the bag again, pulling out a gift that couldn’t have been from anyone but Namjoon. 

It was a book that was equal parts old and beautiful, and as YN ran her finger down the spine, she took out the note that was sticking out of the book. She wiped the tears from her face before she read the note, not wanting to drip tears onto it.

“Our Miss YN, 

Please don’t take this as a goodbye, but as a promise for the future. You’re just as important to us, to me, as we are to you. Remember us, remember the good, and look to when we can be together again. 

-Joon” 

It’s with this that YN starts sobbing again. They’re so sweet, those boys, and YN couldn’t help but feel almost lost without them. Her chest hurt like someone had shot her, a strong sort of longing that seemed endless settling into the pit of her stomach. 

It takes a while this time, before she can reach into the bag again. When she does, she almost immediately has renewed cries falling from her lips. 

She had pulled out the one super soft sweater of Jimin’s that she absolutely adored. She had told him that she was going to steal it from him whenever he wore it, twisting her fingers in the material and snuggling closer to him. It was soft, it smelled nice, and she knew that it would make her both look and feel tiny. 

There’s no note with this one, but YN can feel the love and sincerity behind the action, draping the sweater over her legs for the time being. She reaches into the bag again, smiling as she pulls out one of Taehyung’s million beanies, wrapped around a small toy horse. 

There is a note with this one, which simply reads “Horse.” It’s the most Taehyung thing YN can think of, and without a second thought, she places the horse next to the figurine, pulling the beanie on. 

She doesn’t find anything else immediately, taking a minute to put the things she had gotten in safe spots and going to put away the last couple hoodies, which she knew were hers. 

It isn’t until she reaches the last thing in the bag that she finds what Yoongi left her. At first, she thought it was just one of his hoodies, which she absolutely adored, but when she took it out to lay it next to the sweater Jimin had given her, something fell out of the folding. 

Quickly, YN picks up whatever fell, and finds that it’s a CD. She shakes her head, knowing that Yoongi would be the kind of person to share music as a gift. She sets the CD carefully on the bed, gathering up her shower supplies and a towel, both because she needed to take them back to her bathroom, and because she needed to actually shower. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Once she’s freshly showered, using Hobi’s headband to keep her hair out of her face, wearing nothing but the amazingly soft sweater Jimin left her, YN settles into her bed with a CD player she found, Yoongi’s hoodie layed out beside her. Now that she had calmed down, she could smell the boys on the things they had given her. She would have been lying if she said that it wasn’t incredibly comforting to have their scent around her. It made the gaping hole in her chest feel a little less bloody, for whatever reason. 

Pressing play, YN settles in, not knowing what to expect. Neither the CD nor the CD cover had any sort of writing on it, so YN had no idea what was going to be playing, or for how long. She can’t help the small smile that graces her face as Yoongi’s voice fills her space, speaking deep and slow in that comforting way YN loved. 

“YN, my lovely secret keeper. You’re hearing this now because the day has come that you had to go back to your own home. I know none of us want you to leave, and if your actions have anything to say about it, you don't want to go.

You know as well as I do that things don’t always work the way we want them to, though.  We will be coming to visit you, as much as we can. And we will keep an eye on you. 

YN, please listen to me when I tell you I won’t let anything happen to you. It broke my heart, letting you get hurt once. And I’m not sure what I would have done if Hyung and I weren’t there when you were attacked. 

If you need me, if you need any of us, we will be there. Always.” 

YN curls up in a ball, hugging Yoongi’s hoodie to her chest, breathing in his scent deeply. She knew that he meant every word, that he truly would never let anything happen to her on purpose, but she also felt abandoned by him. By all of them. 

She had spent the last ten weeks of her life talking to Yoongi or Namjoon when she felt bad. Going to Jimin or Taehyung for cuddles when she was lonely. Gaming with Jungkook when she was bored. Laughing with Jin while prepping meals. Doing what little dancing she could with Hobi when she was restless. Laughing as Taehyung insisted on carrying her from one room to another, even once she had healed enough to walk. 

She had spent the last ten weeks evening out their teams when they played games, singing off-key on karaoke nights, fielding Taehyung’s touchiness before he got on Yoongi’s nerves (because for some reason, Tae insisted on trying to cuddle Yoongi at every opportunity), celebrating with them, helping to clean the wolves if there was a fight, stealing blankets off of every surface she could, curling into the side of whoever sat beside her in the name of stealing their boundless warmth.

She had spent ten weeks creating a space for herself in their lives, in their home. And now, it was back to living in a house that was way too big for her, with nobody to keep her accountable. 

It was because of this that she cried herself to sleep, even the sound of Yoongi���s beautiful music filled the room. She missed them, more than anything. She felt like she was crying more than she ever had, and it had only been hours since she left their home.

What YN didn’t know was that the boys were missing her just as much back at their home. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jin had decided to make a fancier meal than usual, because it would take more time and take his mind off of everything, but as he went about getting things done, he couldn’t help but miss seeing YN, perched precariously on the counter, babbling away about this or that as she carefully cut whatever needed to be chopped up. 

He internally cringed as the thought of the time YN had slipped and almost fallen on her hurt ankle, his own quick reflexes being the only thing that had saved her from weeks of extra healing. Honestly, even though it stressed him out to no end to have her cutting things balanced the way she was, it was also something that he had come to expect. Secretly, he wished she had fallen on that ankle, because that would mean she would have still been right there, trying to out-joke the dad joke master himself. 

Jungkook had holed himself away in his room, going to game, setting out a second controller without thinking about it. He had been in the middle of teaching YN how to play his favorite game, so that they could properly play together instead of having her just watch him play all the time. It felt wrong for him to have to just put away that second controller. 

The feeling was just exasperated when he went to start the game and it came up with the section that they had been working through. Fondly, Jungkook remembered the way YN would bring her bottom lip between her teeth as she concentrated on doing things correctly, bouncing in her seat when she finally figured out how something worked. Despite the fond memories, he found himself close to tears, staring at that second controller. 

Jimin and Hobi both went to the studio, deciding to dance away the hurt. Without thinking, Hobi went to ask YN what song they should freestyle to, the words dying in his throat as he turned around to talk to the girl that just wasn’t there. Jimin can see just how much pain Hobi is in, not even speaking as he brings the slightly taller man into his arms, feeling the same sense of loss. 

They sunk down to the floor, neither of them wanting to talk, which in itself was strange for the two normally boisterous men. Jimin missed the feeling of having YN curled up beside him, stealing his heat. Hobi missed being able to talk to her about the dances he was doing, getting a perspective from someone who didn’t really know anything about dance. They missed her. 

They didn’t realize until that moment, when the two were both trying to get the same sort of comfort from each other that they had begun to seek out YN for, how much of a hole there was in their group. Sure, they had been just fine before YN, and would be fine again without her, but there was a comfort with her that they didn’t know how to replace. Things just weren’t the same.

Taehyung busied himself with a book that Namjoon had been recommending to him about one artist that he recently found, but he couldn’t focus on the words or pictures in front of him. Instead, his mind was preoccupied with the fact that, for the past two months, he had spent this lazy time in the afternoon helping YN get from place to place, laughing with her as the others did this or that. He missed those moments, with YN laughing in his arms or on his back, even though it shouldn’t have been long enough for those feelings to settle in. 

He closed the book, flopping down onto the sofa he had settled on and trying not to think too hard about what he could have been doing with YN. If he was being honest with himself, he liked having someone who was so small and easily carried around, because he liked feeling big and important in comparison to her. It was an added bonus that her personality meshed so well with his own, and that she seemed to just understand  the weirder parts of his personality, instead of being put off by them like so many others. 

Sure, he was one of the largest of the pack, but that didn’t mean he felt like it. By wolf standards, he was pretty close to normal, but for whatever reason, he loved the way YN would curl into his side when they were seated next to each other, mumbling about being cold, looking absolutely tiny in comparison to his own body. 

Or how she’d sigh dramatically whenever she had to stand to do something, hopping around the room and never asking for help, despite the fact Taehyung would be the first to jump up and whisk her off her feet completely, just carrying her to wherever it was she needed to be, chiding her for not asking for the help she so clearly needed. 

Namjoon decided to go to the library, curling up in the chair that YN usually occupied in the mornings before everyone else woke up. His mind was swirling, automatically analyzing why he felt the way he did, instead of really feeling those feelings. Absently, he stroked the spine of the book that YN had been reading, a soft smile gracing his face when he realized that it was the one he had recommended when she was still completely bedridden during those first few days. 

He glanced down at the small table beside the chair, realizing for the first time that YN had left a little notebook under the book. He picks it up, flipping through it and quickly realizing that she had been taking notes over things she was eager to discuss with him, which should have made him happy, but in reality just made him feel worse because she wasn’t there to actually follow through. 

Namjoon chuckled to himself as he imagined YN, absolutely tiny in the chair, curled up in one of the fluffy blankets she always seemed to be wrapped up in, lovingly devouring the book that he had recommended to her, scribbling notes onto her notepad for later. He realized absently that he had missed one of the ways that she showed her growing love and appreciation for him was through this small action, making sure that she knew what she was going to say before their discussions. Namjoon was surprised when a drop of water fell onto the page in the notebook YN had marked, not realizing until he sniffled that it was his own tears. 

Yoongi locked himself up in his Genius Lab as soon as YN was in the car, headphones on as he did this or that to the song he had been working on. He tried to ignore the fact that he couldn’t hear the soft clicks of a keyboard behind him. He tried to ignore the sinking feeling of being lonely.

 He had never once felt lonely in his studio, not before he started letting YN hang out on the couch as he worked.

 Not until he got used to spinning around in his chair and seeing YN there, typing away on her laptop. He remembered hearing her little sighs of frustration or exasperation when something doesn’t work out quite right, her brow furrowed, her tongue sticking out slightly, with a growing fondness.

Yes, Yoongi liked being alone. He enjoyed the silence, he enjoyed his own company. He had always liked being alone, it was how he recharged. And it wasn’t until he let YN into his most private sanctum that he had ever really felt lonely. 

It wasn’t until Jin rounded all of them up for dinner that they realized that every single one of them were missing YN. 

“This is bullshit.” 

Yoongi is the one who speaks, heads turning towards him. None of them had really been in the mood for much talking, but none of them had figured Yoongi, of all people, would be the one to break the tense silence. 

“What, I know you’re all thinking it too. This is bullshit.” Yoongi glares at his plate, taking a deep breath before he looks up at the others. 

“None of us wanted YN to leave. YN didn’t want to leave. And now we are all miserable.” Yoongi stands now, not bothering to push in the chair he had been sitting on. 

“I don’t care what any of you do. I don’t care what the consequences are. I’m going to YN’s.” Yoongi’s eyes sweep the faces of the six boys he loves the most, a fiery intensity radiating off of him in a way that has them all flinching away from him. 

“Yoongi you can’t ju-” Namjoon starts, standing and going over to try to calm Yoongi down, but a sharp growl from Yoongi makes him stop in his tracks. 

“No!” Yoongi’s voice drops an octave as he steps closer to Namjoon himself, squaring up with the leader in a way that could very easily lead to a fight.

 “You know as well as I do Alpha,” Yoongi spits the word like it’s acid on his tongue. “she smells like one of us. She has our scent all over her. If they find out we let her go, that we aren’t around her all the time anymore, they’re going to kill her.” 

Namjoon opens his mouth to say something, anger bubbling up in him like a cursed well, when Jin stands, pushing himself between the two Alphas. 

“Both of you! Stop it!” Jin stands, making sure each of them are an arm’s length away from each other. “We all miss YN, but there’s a reason she’s not here. As much as it might seem like it, she isn’t one of us. She doesn’t belong with us.” 

The other boys are all standing now, helping to make sure Yoongi and Namjoon stay away from each other, trying to calm both of them down. A fight between the Alphas would not end well.

“How could you say that?” It’s Hoseok who speaks this time, his voice sounding oddly small. 

“Because it’s been almost a hundred years since there was a lost Omega! You all know how rare they are, seeing how strong the Omega gene is. We knew her uncle, and he didn’t have a lick of wolf in him, even if she managed to somehow get some wolf in her, it can’t be enough for her to be able to pack bond.” Jin flicks his eyes between the other boys, focusing his attention on keeping Namjoon behind him. 

It’s silent for what feels like hours. 

“Then why do I feel like I lost a piece of me, huh?” It’s Taehyung who speaks up this time, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, tears rising in his eyes. “Explain that, Hyung.” His voice is barely above a whisper, choked out over a growing lump in his throat. 

“I-” Jin starts, the words dying in his throat as he watches Taehyung turn into the closest person, seeking the comfort of someone else. 

For once, Yoongi opened his arms to Taehyung, glaring at Jin from over the other man’s shoulder, trying to comfort him. 

“I don’t know.” Jin finally admits, his face falling. 

Again, the room falls silent, only the soft sniffles of Taehyung breaking the deafening quiet of the room. 

“I think we all feel the way Tae does, don’t we?” Namjoon speaks for the first time in a while, the anger he had felt having finally subsided almost completely. There are nods from everyone. 

“The feeling is new, and we don’t want to make a mistake. If we report YN as being lost, she will become a target. If we don’t, we will. Let’s wait for at least a week before we approach her again.” Namjoon eyes the others in the room. “But let’s keep patrols heavy in her part of the woods.” 

Yoongi glares at Namjoon, thoughts swirling. A whole week without YN, knowing that she’s in pain being away from them? It sounded like downright torture to him. 

“Yoongi, Hyung, you know how big of a deal it is to be the pack with a lost Omega. She’ll become a target, just because she can’t handle half as much as we can. It’d be easy to not only to just kill her, but to break her spirit, to force her to tell them about our weaknesses as a pack. She’d have to be with at least one of us almost all the time, have to live with us. She’d have to give up big parts of her freedom, and the YN we know wouldn’t enjoy that at all.” Namjoon pauses, taking a deep breath. 

“We have to be sure before we approach her with this. For all we know, she won’t ever fully present and YN isn’t really one of the lost at all.” Namjoon brings a hand up to rub at his temple, a headache starting from the strong mix of emotions. 

Yoongi sighs, Taehyung finally detaching himself from the smaller man as Yoongi runs a hand through his hair. 

“You’re right Joon. I know you’re right.” He lets out another, more exasperated sigh before he continues, “It’s just hard, ya know? Waiting another week feels like torture, because I know, I know, that YN is hurting. And we caused it.” 

The other boys nod, giving murmurs of agreement as they start to dissipate, their meal forgotten as they begin to retreat again. For whatever reason, even the most other-person oriented of the pack wanted to be alone, wanted to have a minute to process everything that was going on by themselves. 

“Jin, Yoongi. Can we go talk further in the office? We need to actually figure out what to do next.” Namjoon catches Jin by the shoulder before he walks out of the room, reaching for Yoongi as well, even though he was across the room. 

Yoongi just nods, Jin letting out a short hum of approval. The trio then turn in unison, heading out towards the office space that Namjoon used so often.