#a/n — using designated instead of assigned because

[eparchclass]

Designated Female at Containment | DFAC [left]

Designated Male at Containment | DMAC [middle]

Designated Intersex at Containment | DIAC [right]

Designated Genderless at Containment | DGAC [left]

Designated Nonbinary at Containment | DNbAC [right]

[aquasoftware]

★ SOAK OPERAS!! ☆

Snippet | “Don’t go acting all shy on me now, Mrs. Geto.”

FT║ Fem!Reader ✘ househusband! Suguru.

Desc | If dealing with students who think your classroom is a WWE match wasn’t enough, now you’ve got a mountain of work waiting for you at home. Overworked and underfùcked, you finally snap ➜ so your doting, dangerously hot househusband decides it’s time to step in.

Cw║ (Proceed with caution 18+ ⚠️) Househusband!Suguru, Teacher!Reader, lots of petnames, tons of praīse, Suguru has a huge thing for legs, màssages, bėgging, bràt tàming, dīrty tàlk, soft/service dom! Suguru, bràtty sub! Reader, fīngerīng, multi big o’s, usage of good gīrl (sorryyy,) overstím, sqūīrtīng, fīnger súcking, cūm eating, spānking, prōne bōne, bréédīng, pússy drúnk! Suguru, créámpīe, lots of kisses, “love you’s,” + aftercare.

WC ➜ 3.8K ➜ ML

Estimated 17-20 minute read & Oneshot.

Preparing students for huge exams that’d determine whether or not they’d graduate, grading endless assignments, lesson planning all night, and on top of that dealing with those combative students who made you question why you ever pursued being an educator in the first place?

It was all weighing on you.

And one of these days? You were going to snap.

Nevermind, that was today.

Specifically when you came home, after breaking up a classroom fight.

You huffed, kicking your heels off at the porch, tossing your heavy bag and keys onto the bench using way more force than usual, even after stepping through the door, an absurd heftiness of the day clutched onto you. And the worst of all? You still had a shit ton of work to do.

If wishes were real, you’d have a vacation paired with Pink Whitney in your hand by now, but you intensely sighed brushing off the thought.

“When’d you get in?” Suguru drawled, raising an eyebrow, manspreading on the couch–pink apron still tied around his waist from preparing dinner.

Even through your exhaustion, one sight of your husband soothed something deep in your spirit.

“Few minutes ago…” You muttered, eyes semi-lit up from seeing him, yet your pitch cascaded with dryness.

He noticed immediately–the short reply, lack of emotion in your tone, the tension in your shoulders. He quickly felt a profound urge to fix it all for you.

“C’mere baby.” Suguru commanded, reaching for the black remote to pause the dramatic soap operas he’d been super-glued to all day.

You trudged toward the leather couch, sitting beside him as he rubbed slow, warm circles across your back.

“You okay?” He tried to check in, invested on why you were upset, maybe it was the wrong time to ask though, because you didn’t mean it, you really didn’t want to take it out on him.

But something about that question made you snap completely.

“Suguru, do I look like I’m fucking okay to you?” Scowling at him, you folded your arms, crossing your legs.

Damn. Okay, he knew that was a stupid question with an obvious answer, he hadn’t expected that though. But the stress in your voice, the way your lips poked out? He knew better than to take it personally.

Instead, your husband exhaled softly, his hand never stopping its slow strokes against your back.

“I get it, baby. It’s alright.”

His voice caressed you, low and smooth–like thick honey melting on your skin, unbothered, unshaken by your moodiness, fully consumed by so much patience you were sure he’d secretly be in the Guinness world record for it.

He spoke once more “Let me take care of you, yeah?” Taking your hands into his welcoming ones.

Your heart tremendously twitched at the offer, nodding. Allowing his warm palms to knead into your calves like dough, leisurely working out the tension that had built up from being on your feet all day.

“You work too hard, Y/n.” he angelically whispered, thumbs pressing unhurried, firm circles against your aching muscles.

“It’s not my fault, I have to.” You mumbled back, head sinking farther as you leaned into the couch cushions that were decorated among a plethora of pillows, funky designs adorning them.

His hands didn’t falter, massaging so deliberate and comforting, it felt as if he put you under some sort of spell–day’s load swiftly dissolving under his fingertips. His presence became a strong yet silent reminder that you weren’t alone in this.

The scent of dinner still lingered, mingling around faint traces of his baccarat cologne. The almost professional rhythm of his touch, it was all rapidly numbing your mind.

And if you were being honest, your panties began to get extremely sticky–slick clinging to the middle part of the fabric. You were too far gone to pray he wouldn’t notice though.

He only hummed in response, but his focus gradually started to drift as he kneaded higher up your luscious legs.

It was supposed to be an innocent little massage, but it was stupidly impossible to ignore how the red pencil skirt hugged your figure, the delicate stretch of skin-colored tights underneath had his breathing irregular.

The fabric was sheer enough that he could see the beautiful shape of your legs perfectly–the curve of your calf, and the freckles on your thigh that he was obsessed with?

Your husband found himself growing rock-hard already, except he swallowed Adam's apple bobbing as he forced himself to keep his touch controlled.

Then, you shifted, letting out a breathy moan, the movement causing your skirt to ride up a little too high for him to just keep this as an innocent stress relieving massage.

Shit, he was even able to see your pretty lace panties through the tights.

His fingers dragged up, moving to your inner thigh attempting to soothe any sore muscles there too, perhaps he squeezed too hard though, because he felt it.

The way your body shuddered as tiny goosebumps trailed all over your skin.

And the way your thighs clenched a little bit, your core pulsing faster than a marathon, even through the miniature barrier of fabric.

Suguru stilled for a moment, demeanor noticeably changing. His jaw locked while his long fingers tweaked where they rested.

“Oh? I see, work isn’t the only thing making you moody huh?” his lips purred, as he smirked amused he wasn’t the only one affected since the tent in his pants was beginning to become a nuisance.

Your face grew more heated than an oven at the observation “Suguru!” you squealed eyes widening like balloons at how promptly he caught on.

You hadn’t been fucked in months due to how much duties you had after coming home, so there was barely any time for that. And having a stressful situation on top of a stressful situation? This is all you wanted right now, to be touched by your man.

He breathlessly chuckled, pale hand squeezing your thigh tighter.

“Don’t go acting all shy on me now, Mrs. Geto.”

Unfortunately for you your pride wouldn’t let you admit you needed him that easily though…

“It’s not even like that,” you blurted, rolling your eyes, shifting your legs closed as if that could stop him from detecting how hot and bothered you were.

“Are you sure?” His hand slid further, over the curve of your thigh, stopping just short of where you needed him most. “So if I touched you here…” His fingers traced the seam of your tights, scarcely grazing over your clothed cunt—“I wouldn’t find you soaked?”

A whimper fled your lips, hips jerking instinctively toward his hand.

“What was that, sweetheart?” he murmured, voice dripping pure elation. “Didn’t sound like a no.”

“Shut up Sugu,” you grunted sheepishly, body burning anticipation.

He clicked his tongue. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, a little bratty today, huh?” His other hand came down sharply against your thigh—a warning smack that made you jolt.

His fingers hooked into your tights, pulling the fabric off and the panties aside. The moment cool air hit your slick folds making it glisten, Suguru let out a low groan.

“Shit, baby. You were gonna sit here and lie to me when you’re this messy?” your man was hardly able to contain how turned on he was.

Your body shivered when his wedding band contrasted–slender fingers sliding between your warm folds, gathering your arousal.

“Mmph, so needy. My poor wifey.” He teased, brimming friskiness not pushing in yet solely to hear you whine for him.

“S—Suguru, aah please…”

He flashed a toothy grin, long jet-black hair dangling over his shoulder as he turned his head to press a tender sensual kiss on your inner thigh. “Hm, please what? you can do better than that, love.”

You squirmed, manicured nails gripping his lean muscular arm. Shortly folding, you begged “Please, just touch me, I want your fingers, anything please, I just need you.”

That was all it took. Suguru plunged two digits inside you, his ring still on, gently stretching you out. Your mouth fell apart, followed by a lengthy drawn-out moan, sprinkling into the air—evidence of how badly you desired this.

Then you spread your legs wider, just enough to let him treat you like royalty.

“Mmm, there you go,” he crooned, nudging his palm against your clit as he curled his large fingers inside, your gummy walls inviting him in.

“That’s my good girl.”

You couldn’t help but lift your hips up to meet his hand at his words, desperate for more, your slickness smearing across his palm as your body moved on instinct—hungry, mindless, wanting him deeper.

He shook his head feigning disappointment, dimples forming as his lips curved into a crooked smile.

“You could’ve just told me this was what you needed, angel. I would’ve taken care of you the second you walked in.”

You let out a choked sob, unable to focus on anything that was said. Glasses askew, cheek smashed into one of the couch pillows, your back arched as your legs trembled from overwhelming pleasure—narrowly keeping it together.

He set a fast rhythm calculated, every stroke purposeful—dragging out euphoria until your toes curled and breathy hitches swept past your lips.

But the second he hit that spot—the one that made your body judder as you flung your forearm across your face like a shield?

That’s when he started really enjoying himself, watching your reactions intently like one of his soap operas, knowing you were close.

“Mmm, That’s it, baby… Right there!” You gasped, as your body shook under his hand, pliant, attuned to every saccharine stroke he gave you.

He zeroed in on that precious g-spot, rubbing in a “Come here” motion, unrelenting and precise.

The pressure caused your walls to flutter, clenching with each back and forth gesture.

Your moans climbed higher, melting into siren-like whimpers—loud enough to have angry neighbors complaining, not that you could bring yourself to care anyway.

That coil began to build briskly, difficult to escape. Your stomach tensed with every breath, chest rising and falling in an uneven pattern, thighs quivering as you teetered right on the edge of your orgasm.

“Oh my god, hah Sugu… t—that feels s’fucking good”

“Yeah? I know it does.��� His other hand pressed down on your stomach, firm but not rough, keeping you in place as he continued to plant more kisses on your leg. “C’mon, let me feel it princess, cum f’me.”

His fingers picked up speed, rough and unforgiving, tapping that sweet spot as his palm grinded on your aching clit with every motion stoking the fire emerging in your belly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Was all you could manage to frantically spew out, voice growing hoarse after every word.

Pleasure seized you all at once—cutting like knives, immensely electric, it stole the breath straight from your lungs.

Your cunt spasmed as a mewl freed itself out of your throat as your release burst free, gushing down Suguru’s wrist—inked with your initials in cursive—and drenching his apron in the process.

And still, he didn’t stop.

His fingers worked you through the high, prying wave after wave from you, each convulsion coaxing out more wetness as the lewd squelch of your arousal grew louder, filthier.

“Love you,” you heaved between shaky breaths.

The couch beneath you was damp. His tattooed wrist gleamed. And your husband’s lips twisted into that smug, knowing smirk—so sure of himself, so proud that he could always make his wife fall apart.

“I love you too, baby,” he mouthed, sewing a kiss to your thigh. “So much.”

You cried out, legs trembling violently, the aftershocks leaving your body in tatters. The pleasure lingered like an echo, so intense you instinctively reached down to push his hand away—sensitive, overstimulated, gasping for mercy.

But Suguru caught your wrist with ease, gently guiding it aside.

“Ah ah, ah, don’t run from it, love,” he cooed, voice like velvet dipped in sin—low, smooth, savoring your unraveling. “You’re doing so well for me.”

Then another wave slammed into you—abruptly. Your hips bucked, more wetness spilling over his palm in a stream so obscene it made his jaw drop.

“Damn,” he growled, forehead resting upon your thigh as he beamed, teeth grazing your skin. “That was a pretty one.”

You couldn’t speak. Could scantily breathe. Your body was limp, boneless, nothing more than a ruin draped across the couch, mind foggy with bliss.

Suguru only exhaled, before lifting his soaked hand into the dim light—watching the way your slick spread between his fingers, shining like a trophy.

“You made such a mess,” he mentioned in awe, voice tainted glee.

You twitched in response—body still quivering from overstimulation, thighs spasming gently as aftershocks coursed through your spent frame.

Suguru chortled, before grabbing your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

“You gonna clean up what you did, sweetheart?”

Your lashes flittered. Eyes glossy. Lips parted as you tried to draw in breath.

He smiled, going feral at your current state.

“Open up, baby.”

His thumb teased your bottom lip, coaxing it open, and the moment you did, he slid two slick fingers into your mouth, one garnished in his wedding band—soaked in your release.

The taste of yourself coated your tongue, hot and decadent. You whined around him, his fingertips greeted your tongue forcing you to slurp away your fluids.

“That’s it,” he silkily rasped, gaze pinned to your mouth. “Suck for me.”

You obeyed without question—lips stretching, tongue swirling, cheeks hollowing as you cleaned him with moderate, reverent spins.

His pupils dilated, hunger bleeding into every inch of him.

“Mmm. Good girl.” His voice dropped an octave, thick with lust. “Tastes perfect right?”

He pulled his fingers out achingly slow, dragging along your tongue so you could feel every inch, leaving your mouth empty and your core pulsing with need again.

A soft squeak escaped you, leaning into his warmth, thighs squeezing together as your body betrayed you—already aching for more.

Suguru leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips—each one reverent.

“Told you I’d take care of you, baby.”

You were still shaking, on top of the couch, but his body was taut with restraint—his cock straining beneath his apron that he untied straight away along with unbuckling his belt pulling his pants down, sure he’d die if he didn’t empty his balls.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous when you’re all wrecked for me.” His hand slithered down your jaw, tilting your face toward him again, the edge of his thumb brushing your cheekbone.

“Think you’ve got one more in you pretty girl?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, batting your lashes, thighs pressing together.

That’s all he needed. He wasted no time grabbing you by your waist flipping you onto your stomach.

Your cheek pressed into the pillow, you took your glasses off holding them to be comfortable. You felt the couch dip as he knelt behind you, palms sliding up the backs of your thighs before spreading them apart.

“So fucking wet,” he expressed to himself, dragging two fingers through your folds, watching how easily you parted for him. “God, you’re perfect.” Suguru claimed, happy he’d be the only one making you like this.

You let out a shaky exhale as he stroked the head of his cock along your entrance, catching on your clit just to hear the way your breath hitched again.

“Don’t tease,” you shot, voice muffled into the cushion.

He chuckled low, bending down to kiss the dip of your spine. “Don’t be impatient princess, I’m giving it to you.”

Then he pushed in—sluggish, all the way to the hilt.

Your mouth fell open, but no sound came out at first. The stretch had your eyes rolling, back arching faintly under him as he bottomed out.

“Oh my god—” you choked, free hand gripping the armrest like it was the only thing anchoring you to earth.

He stayed there for a moment, letting you feel his girthy eight inches.

“Fuuuck, nghh, you’re tight,” he hissed through his teeth, one hand smoothing over your back, before caging you using both arms.

Then he started to move.

His hips rolled into you easy at first—deep and controlled, letting you feel every inch grind against that oversensitive spot inside you.

The pace was intimate, each stroke snatching a breathy moan from your lips.

“You take me so well,” Suguru hummed, leaning over your back, his chest pressed flush against you. “This pussy was fucking made for me.”

Your thighs wobbled as his pace built, heavier now, slapping against your ass with each thrust. You sing-song moaned, swearing you could feel him in your guts—forehead pressed into the cushion, body rocking with every deep stroke.

He used one of his veiny hands to spank your ass, biting his lip when it jiggled. Your walls clamped down around him at the action allowing a groan to leave his throat.

“C’mon, Y/n,” he panted your name divinely, mouth at your ear gently nibbling it. “Wanna feel you fall apart on my cock.”

Your legs kicked faintly, unable to handle the stimulation—his tip snapping on your g-spot just right.

It was too much.

And it was dragging you toward the edge again.

Your body had hardly recovered, but Suguru didn’t give you a chance to come down. Not when you were this heated, this snug, this perfect around him.

He found that angle directly—already knowing your body like the back of his inked hand. His strokes were deep, precise, his hips flicking against the curve of your ass with a tempo that left your lungs aching.

Your moans turned into broken sobs, face smushed into the couch cushion, drool pouring out your lip as your thighs shook uncontrollably.

“Shhh, I know, baby,” he cooed, kissing the back of your neck while he fucked you through the overstimulation. “I know it’s a lot—but you’re doing so good.”

You didn’t even have the words to beg him to slow down. Or to keep going. You were somewhere in between delirium and heaven, your body tottering under every harsh drag of his dick.

And when he found your g-spot again? Pounding into it ruthlessly you screamed.

“Aah! Sugu I can’t—fuckk” you babbled, voice caught between a cry and a whimper.

“You can,” he purred against your shoulder, fingers rolling tight circles against that overstimulated bundle of nerves. “C’mon. Give me another one, sweetheart. Wanna feel you gush on me again.”

His words broke something in you.

The coil snapped brutally in how hard it hit you. Your entire body locked up before you convulsed around him, cunt squeezing so tight it knocked the breath out of him.

A wet gush spilled from you, soaking both of you again—your thighs, his shaft, and the couch beneath.

“Shittt,” he animalistically growled, hips stuttering as he fucked you through it, the slap of skin and the wet squelch of your orgasm impossibly obscene. “That’s it. That’s my girl.”

Your vision went white for a second. Fingers clawing uselessly at the cushion, a high-pitched whine spilling from your lips.

Suguru eventually halted, letting you ride out the tremors. Letting your body melt into the couch, limp and pliant. And still, those fuzzy white bunny slippers were on his feet.

Suguru couldn’t take it anymore.

Not when your cunt was pulsing like that around him, clenching down on him like you didn’t want him to ever leave.

His grip tightened one hand resting on your hips, fingers digging into the plush of your waist as his flow grew sloppier, rougher. His forehead dropped to your neck, breath hot against your skin as he groaned deep—feral.

“Fuuuck—Y/n, you’re gonna make me cum,” he rasped, voice gruff, needy. “Shit, you’re squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight.”

Your only response was a soft, broken mewl into the pillow, your body shuddering with every thrust.

“Gonna fill you up, yeah?” he panted. “Gonna give you all of my cum—fuck, wanna knock you up.”

He was gone, entirely pussydrunk.

His hips snapped forward with a final thrust, burying himself to the hilt as a groan tore from his chest, raw and guttural. His cock twitched deep inside you as hot ropes of cum spilled into your cervix, thick and endless.

He stayed buried there, holding you tight, grinding in slow circles to push it deeper, watching his cum drip back out around his manhood.

“Look at that,” he uttered, astonished, breathless, one hand sliding down to thumb at your swollen clit again. “So full of me, think… I put a baby in you.”

You whimpered helplessly, hips rocking from aftershocks, and he finally leaned down, kissing your spine, your shoulder, your cheek.

“I love you,” he whispered, still buried deep inside, body draped over yours, voice so soft and satisfied it made your chest ache. “M’never letting you go.”

And from the floor, those ridiculous bunny slippers peeked out—innocent, stupidly soft, in total contrast to what he’d just done to you.

Suguru didn’t pull out right away.

He stayed there for a moment—buried deep, draped over you, chest rising and falling against your back, his arms curled around your middle like he didn’t want to let go. His length still nestled inside your cozy, messy cunt,

“You okay, Y/n?” he finally whispered, voice hoarse but gentle, showering kisses to the back of your neck. “Talk to me.”

You nodded, your cheek still squished into the pillow. “M’okay,” you mumbled, dazed. “Think you fucked the thoughts outta me.”

He laughed low in his chest, one hand coming up to smooth out your clothes, fingers grazing your temple.

“I’ll get you cleaned up,” he said, easing out of you with a soft hiss, watching your cum-slick pussy flutter around nothing before his eyes softened. “Shit. Made such a mess in you, huh?”

You could only brashly pant trying to catch your breath.

Suguru scurried into the bathroom nearby for a warm towel coming back to gently wipe between your thighs, murmuring praises as he went.

“There we go, angel. You did so good for me. So, so good.”

He lifted you carefully, tucking you into his chest as he sat back on the couch, pulling a blanket over both of you. His palm rubbed lazy circles into your thigh as he kissed your forehead.

And even with your legs still weak, your lips parted in a sleepy smile.

“You wore the bunny slippers the whole time??” you slurred, still dazed.

Suguru smiled. “Of course I did,” he said, his voice full of smug love. “You think I’d take these off? Absolutely not.”

You wheezed a little giggle against his collarbone, letting your body melt into his.

And he held you there—until your heart dwindled slowly, and your breathing softened.

By tomorrow morning, you’d be strolling into work like nothing happened—students staring at you, creeped out by your unshakable mood and bright, unnatural pep at 8 a.m. Not knowing you’d been thoroughly destroyed the night before by your husband in bunny slippers.

Tags 🔖 @sophistication-as @imnot-adoll @lacey-blog @hal0g3nz @cyberzpace @dreamerofstarlight @jup1tersuccubus @rheawritessometimes @suguboos @latencygirl @hopefulpeachcolor @kunanuts @tiredvlovely @rotteneyess @11thlife02 @xoyumiqls

Divider/Boarder creds | hyuneskkami, elleisdesigning, + animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

I appreciate comments, likes, reblogs. THANK YOU if you really sat down and gave this a read mwah, mwah, mwah.

A/n : Had huge Suguru brainrot and wrote this, I was not expecting the brainrot to make this end up at 3.8K whew… + I also wasn’t expecting so many peeps to wanna be tagged 😅 I hope I fulfilled your expectations!!

[manzuaves]

ᴄʀᴀᴡʟɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ

pairing. bratty!slytherin!sophia x quidditchplayer!gryffindor!reader

warning. mentions of alcohol. curses. and a bit of kisses. i think.

a/n. pls bear with me. its my first time writing. :') part 2 is up!

You were bored out of your damn mind, and the fact that the annual Quidditch Cup was only weeks away did absolutely nothing to help.

As Gryffindor’s Quidditch captain, you were supposed to be focused, fired up, strategic. Instead, you were just bored.

You’d been in the library for nearly three hours, and at this point, you were aimlessly sketching out plays with your quill, dragging it across just to litter the parchment with Quidditch formations and crossed-out plays.

Until a familiar, grating voice cut through your thoughts.

“Oh, sweet Salazar! Look who's swapped their broom for a book. Can’t you stop thinking about Quidditch for once?”

You snapped out of your reverie, jaw tightening. That squeaky, shrill tone could only belong to one person. Sophia Laforteza. The ever-annoying, ever-bratty Slytherin who had somehow been assigned to this godforsaken group project with you.

Her voice never failed to make you want to rip your hair out.

“And can’t you lower your voice for once?” you hissed, glancing nervously toward Madam Pince’s desk. If the library’s vulture-like guardian heard Sophia screeching again, you’d both be thrown out faster than a rogue Bludger.

“For Merlin’s sake, Laforteza,” you muttered, rubbing your temple. “You’re making my ears bleed.”

“And you’re making my blood boil,” she shot back, dramatically flicking her perfectly styled hair over her shoulder. Her green-painted nails glinted in the light, long and sharp enough to make you think of snakes.

Typical.

“I’m so telling Professor Binns that you didn’t even lift your calloused, dirty fingers to help with this assignment,” she huffed, flipping through a textbook as if she’d been doing all the work.

You smirked, leaning back with that all-too-familiar cocky grin, like a boy who’d just thought of a very inappropriate joke.

“Oh, you wouldn’t imagine what these dirty hands could do?”

Her quill froze mid-sentence.

Sophia turned her head slowly, eyes narrowed, lips slightly parted in disbelief. You could practically see the scandalized gears turning in her head. And for a second, you swore she looked flustered but that was probably wishful thinking.

“You are disgusting,” she muttered, though her voice lacked its usual bite.

You only laughed, peeking over at the shared parchment covered in her perfect penmanship. Judging by how little she'd actually written, it was going to take at least two more hours to finish this godforsaken History of Magic project.

“I already told you,” you muttered, scribbling something half-useful just to fill the space, “if we just focused on Muggles, you wouldn’t be bitching right now. You’d be lounging in your mess of a common room, probably bragging about your new designer hand bag or something with your other bitchy friends, because we would’ve been done by now.”

Sophia rolled her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time. “Like I’d give a damn about Muggles. Dark magic shaped Hogwarts history! I'm just finding it a bit difficult to—”

“—To find something different? Yeah, because it’s always dark magic this, dark magic that. You Slytherins think so highly of yourselves, FYI, dark magic has shaped Hogwarts history in a bad way. If you actually wanted to be original, you'd lower that inflated ego for five minutes and listen to me.”

Her green scarf slipped slightly from her shoulder as she adjusted it with a huff, the signature Slytherin silver threading catching the light.

“Why must you Gryffindors be so damn boastful?” she snapped, nose crinkling in annoyance. “Fine. Muggles it is. But only because you wouldn’t cooperate if I pushed for dark magic.”

You leaned back in your chair with a satisfied grin, quill twirling between your fingers. “Admit it. I’m right.”

“I’d rather swallow a Fanged Flyer,” she muttered.

“You’re welcome.”

She didn’t answer, but the slight tug at the corner of her lips almost made you forget that you were supposed to hate each other.

“Catch up, Sophia! We’re going to miss the match!” Daniela squealed in excitement, her footsteps echoing as they practically skipped down the hallway.

Or rather, Daniela only did, since Sophia didn’t like breaking a sweat or wasting energy on anything that might tire her out. Even the thought of a few beads of sweat sent her into a mini fit.

“You know,” Sophia muttered, dragging her feet, “actually, you might want to go ahead. Lara’s waiting for me in the common room. We’ve got some work to do.” She quickly came up with the first excuse that popped into her head.

Daniela arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “I might just do that—only if you can come up with a better lie.” She leaned in with a roll of her Slytherin-colored eyes. “Shut up, Sophia. Just Apparate to the pitch, or something. Lara already told me she’d be there too, watching the game.”

Sophia let out an exasperated sigh, muttering under her breath. “Oh, for the love of the Dark Lord…”

"Plus… don’t you want to see your crush? Heard Y/N’s absolutely annihilating it against Hufflepuff today.”

“My crush?” Sophia smirked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “More like I’d love to crush their head. And for the last time, stop with the rumors, Dani. I hate that Gryffindor .”

Dani raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the teasing. “It’s not a rumor, Soph. Just something I’ve observed—and trust me, it’s hard to miss with the way you’re always glaring at Y/N during matches.”

Sophia rolled her eyes, but before she could respond, someone down the hall waved at her. “Hey, Sophia!” they called, but she didn’t even spare a glance, strutting past them with her usual air of superiority.

How dare they greet her? They were just a pair of common wizards, nothing special. Meanwhile, she was THE Sophia Laforteza, descendant of one of the Sacred 28, a Slytherin legend. She didn’t have time for pleasantries, especially not with people who weren’t worth her attention.

Dani snickered, crossing her arms. “See? That’s how hard it is to get your attention. You wouldn’t even acknowledge someone saying hi, but with Y/N? You can’t even stop glaring.”

Sophia shot Dani a dark look, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “And don’t you think I glare at her because I hate her?” She asked like stating the obvious.

An amused smile tugging at Daniela's lips, “Oh, I know you glare at her. And if I’m being honest, that’s just your way of giving her all your attention.”

Even more irritated now, Sophia made up her mind. There was absolutely no way she was going to that bloody Quidditch match. Daniela could throw the biggest fit in the world for all she cared. She did not have a crush on Y/N.

Y/N savored her glory: 200 to 20. Gryffindor had completely obliterated Hufflepuff, and she stood on the second floor of the common room, overlooking the sea of red and gold as her housemates chanted her name. MVP of today’s game. With a smug smirk tugging at her lips, she thought, Yeah… I could get used to a few more parties like this.

The afterparty was in full swing. She and her friends had basically invited the entire year, and now students from all houses were packed into the Gryffindor common room—dancing, laughing, and sipping from cups laced with smuggled Firewhisky.

“Hail Y/N for beating those arses of a house called Hufflepuff!” Megan screamed from below, half-dancing, half-stumbling through the crowd. Everyone laughed and cheered, including the Hufflepuffs who are so drunk they could barely register what the orange-haired had shouted. Megan was loud on a regular day, add a few drinks, and she was practically a human megaphone. You could probably hear her from three floors up.

Thankfully, Manon, ever the genius of their chaotic little friend group, had already cast Muffliato. As bold as they were, Gryffindors through and through, none of them wanted to risk an earful from Professor McGonagall if the noise spilled beyond the portrait hole.

Manon approached her smug friend, handing her a drink that was probably twice as strong as the last. Why? Well, they were Gryffindors. They liked it strong like that. 

“The tournament’s only just begun and we’re already throwing the year’s wildest party,” Manon said with a laugh, flashing her perfect pearl-white teeth. “Honestly, kind of a Slytherin move.”

Her smile could charm half the student body, and it often did. But not Y/N. She merely raised an eyebrow, unfazed as always.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” Y/N scoffed, swirling the firewhisky in her cup. “We wouldn’t want to be associated with the likes of them, now, would we?”

Manon didn’t reply immediately. She just gave a knowing hum, eyes flickering past Y/N’s shoulder. “Funny you say that..”

From your view, your brown eyes caught a glint of green near the portrait pole. But not just any green. That green. Silk scarves and robes that probably cost more than yours and Manon’s whole lives combined, intimidating expressions and that aura that scream we’re better than you and we know it. 

The infamous trio had finally arrived. 

Lara, already looking unimpressed with the playlist. Daniela, waving to someone like she wasn’t crashing enemy territory. And right in the middle: Sophia LaForteza, arms crossed and gaze sharp, like she’d rather be hexed than be in a room full of celebrating Gryffindors.

You sipped again, slower this time.

“Well, speak of the bloody devil,” you muttered, eyes locked at the certain Slytherin who was looking down on everybody with utter disdain. But somehow, people still made space without her asking, like she was kind of royalty. Well not really kind of. She was royalty. 

And yet she still looked pissed to be there. And for some reason that intrigued you. 

You didn’t even realize you were already making your way through the crowd, drink still in hand. Manon’s voice trailing behind you. 

“Didn’t wanna be associated, huh.” She laughed knowingly as she head her way to the other side, entertaining other students. 

You stopped just in front of her, leaning against the red and gold pillar with a nonchalant smirk. Offering your firewhisky, you half-expected a grimace or a quick rejection. Instead, to your surprise, she took the glass and chugged it down in one smooth motion.

Sophia’s eyes flashed as she set the empty glass down with an ease that made you pause. The girl had no hesitation.

You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “Well, well, LaForteza. Here I was thinking you were above all this noise. Yet, here you are, crashing the Gryffindor afterparty. Didn’t feel like being a queen tonight?”

Sophia’s gaze flickered, but there was something else in it now, something more raw than the usual indifference. She liked the burn in her chest, the firewhisky coursing through her veins. Just exactly what she needed tonight.

It wasn’t that she was bored—not entirely, but the stress was eating at her. The weight of everything back at Slytherin, her family, the pressure… sometimes, a drink was the only thing that helped drown it all out.

She was actually thankful for you, in a way. No need to go to the drink table and mingle with the rest of the students. You’d brought it right to her, and it was a damn good drink. The last thing she wanted was to be around more people approaching her who doesn't know their place.

She tilted her head, her lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smirk. “And here I was thinking you were above all this celebration noise. Your first time winning?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, unfazed by her jab. “First time winning? Please. I think I might need to invite you to one of my games. You must’ve missed more than I thought if you think this is a first.”

Your eyes shifted to one of the lower years you had invited to the party, someone you and your friends liked to send on errands.

“Oi, kid! Pass me two more cups! One for me, and the other for the princess here,” you called out, eyes glinting with mischief as you nodded toward Sophia. “Wouldn’t want royalty leaving the party early now, would we?”

“U-uhh… of course not, Y/N.” The younger student looked at you, wide-eyed clearly starstruck, then hesitantly offered a shy smile in Sophia’s direction. But Sophia, still disinterested, just rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed by both the kid’s awe and even more by your smug theatrics.

"You Gryffindors really do have a knack for being so loudly arrogant, no? Like if you save the day, you’d want the whole world to throw a parade in your name,” Sophia scoffed, taking the new drink from your hand.

She eyed you over the rim of her cup, her gaze razor-sharp and unblinking. You took a sharp breath, caught off guard by how intense the eye contact suddenly felt—like she was reading every motive behind your smirk.

You cleared your throat, doing your best to play it cool despite how her stare was already crawling under your skin.

“Who wouldn’t want the spotlight?” you quipped, flashing a grin. “It’s kind of like when a girl’s screaming my name in bed. Why keep it quiet when you can let the whole castle know who’s winning?" You laughed.

Sophia didn’t know why. Maybe it was your cocky tone or that maddening grin, but something about you just got under her skin. With a dramatic roll of her eyes and a sharp swig of her drink, she turned on her pointy, green heels, already set on walking away from whatever this was.

But before she could get far, your fingers wrapped gently around her wrist.

“Wait—what? You’re leaving already?” you asked, genuine confusion flickering across your face. “Was it something I said?”

Your teasing faltered for a beat, replaced by something unreadable, like you hadn’t actually expected her to walk away.

Sophia froze. Not because of your hold, but because of your stupidly irritating question. She scoffed, snatching your drink from your hand without warning and taking a sip, her eyes never leaving yours. Her glossy lips left a faint mark on the rim of your red plastic cup, and somehow, that tiny, thoughtless act shifted something inside you.

The nerve. The audacity. The way she could steal your drink, challenge you with a single stare, and still make it feel like you were the one off balance.

"You talk like that and then act surprised that someone walks away?" she said coolly, though there was an obvious tint of annoyance in her voice.

Oh, so that’s it. Was she jealous? That you just casually mentioned your bed escapades?

"Talk like what, LaForteza?" you shot back, your confusion quickly turning into a playful smirk. You leaned in just enough, watching her closely, almost daring her to admit whatever was making her so irritated.

Sophia’s eyes narrowed, and for a split second, she looked like she was trying to decide whether to hex you or kiss you, or maybe both.

But then, she paused, her jaw tightening, clearly weighing her options. There was a flicker of something—maybe annoyance, maybe something else—across her features before she quickly masked it with a cold expression.

She took another sip of your drink, which was now probably hers, her voice laced with sarcasm as she responded, “Please, don’t flatter yourself. I couldn’t care less about whatever you do behind closed doors. But keep it down. Not everyone’s interested in hearing about it.”

You took a step closer, smirking as you leaned in just slightly. “I wouldn’t want them to anyway,” you said, her voice lower now, the playful edge still there, but with something more intense beneath it. “I just want you to pay attention, LaForteza. That’s all.”

Your gaze flickered to Sophia's lips for a brief moment before meeting her eyes again, the tension thickening between you two. Everyone at the party who noticed the silent standoff between the two powerhouses of Hogwarts dared not come any closer. The air around you seemed to pulse with unspoken words, and it was as if the entire room held its breath, aware of the electricity crackling in the space between you. It was obvious to anyone paying attention, this wasn’t just another verbal sparring match.

"What, cat got your tongue?" You teased. Snatching your drink back and taking a sip exactly from where the Slytherin had left her lipstick mark.

Sophia followed your actions with her eyes, suddenly feeling hot. And she abhorred feeling hot. But why was this different? Why didn't she mind this at all?

"I'm not the one running my mouth."

"Oh, yeah? Prove it then, princess."

Sophia raised an eyebrow, but you could see the tension tightening in her jaw. You smirked, expecting her to retort, to snap back like she always did. But instead, before you could even react, her lips were suddenly on yours. It was unexpected, and for a moment, you froze, completely caught off guard by the softness and heat of her kiss.

She pulled back just as quickly, eyes narrowed, but there was no mistaking the hint of something unspoken lingering in the air between you two.

"Don't act so surprised, I can play your game, too." Her voice was hushed enough just for the both of you to hear. Yet it was laced with challenge.

You observed how her eyes were now hooded with lust, her usual composure unraveling, and how her thick, glossy lips were slightly parted from the kiss you two just shared. She looked so damn irresistible in that moment, like every challenge she'd ever thrown your way had led to this exact point. The sharp, undeniable magnetism between you two made your head spin.

Merlin's beard, kill me now… You cursed under your breath, your pulse racing as you fought the urge to close the distance even more. But you couldn’t help it—the way she was looking at you, like she was daring you to do something, ignited something deep inside.

Finally, you closed the distance between you two once again but this time you deepened it even more. Your kiss was nothing like the playful teasing before. It was strong, harsh, and passionate. The two of you wanting to dominate.

She gripped the back of your neck like she was claiming territory, nails digging just enough to make you grin into the kiss. You responded in kind, hands confidently sliding down to lift her leg, anchoring it against your waist with practiced ease. The movement made her gasp, and that alone felt like a win.

Sophia kissed like she argued: sharp, challenging, and with no intention of backing down. She bit at your lower lip, a bratty kind of defiance in the way she tilted her chin, daring you to lose control. But you kissed her like you played Quidditch: cocky, calculated, and always a step ahead. You swallowed her challenge with a smirk, deepening the kiss until her bravado cracked, just slightly.

She tried to pull away, to regain upper hand, but you were already chasing her lips again, murmuring against them, “What’s wrong, LaForteza? Thought you could keep up.”

Her answer was another tug at your collar, another press of her mouth against yours, fiercer this time like she’d rather die than let you have the last word.

“I’ll show you how to keep up. Bring me to your room.”

And just like that the game has changed.

[sixosix]

no one's ever had me, not like you

timeskip!hinata shoyo x reader

“Are you really sure that you’re swearing off of dating?”

You wonder how many times you’ll be asked that before you finally get pressured into mingling just to get them off your back. But Akane, bless her heart, looks genuinely concerned, like choosing to stay single was a cruel fate she wouldn’t wish for anyone to bear.

“It’s not a big deal,” you tell her. “Dating’s just not for me.”

You think back to all your previous relationships, and find that you have never been more sure of your decision.

“It just means you haven’t found the right one!” To your left, Yuki, who is alarmingly a lot of shots in, exclaims. She becomes violent when drunk. You would know, your arm is starting to turn red from her smacking when laughing.

You shrug uncomfortably. “I’m not looking for any right one.”

Akane and Yuki share a glance.

“Well, if you say so,” Akane cedes.

Then Yuki slams her hands on the table as she bolts upright, expression grave and voice low as she says, “We’re doing it, though, right?”

You laugh under your breath. Yuki looks a little ridiculous, drunk, and swaying on her feet even when standing still. Her grip on her glass wavers, and you quickly pluck it from her grasp, ignoring her protesting wail.

Akane brightens. “Yes! Of course we’re doing it!”

You instead hand Yuki a glass of water. “Doing what? Are you two up to no good again?”

“Yes!” Yuki exclaims at the same time Akane calmly clarifies, “Noya’s inviting close friends out for dinner tomorrow.” Which makes sense, because they were pretty much the same thing.

“Oh! Nishinoya’s back?”

“Just arrived today! He said he’s visiting for a while.” Akane fishes out her phone from her hand, then pulls out the class’s group chat that you could never bring yourself to check ever since it hit 999+ notifications. It displays a picture of Nishinoya holding up a peace sign, face serious, and next to a large airport sign.

You hum thoughtfully. “I guess if you guys are coming…”

“Let’s go!” Yuki pumps her fists in the air. Akane smiles and tells her to settle down. Akane drank twice as many shots than her.

“Who else is coming?” You ask. “I might pass if it’s the entire school.”

“Noya’s not that wild. I heard it’s just his volleyball team, Ryuunosuke, and us,” Akane says. “I heard they’re also celebrating because Noya’s treating his kouhai’s return from Brazil.”

“Brazil?” The other side of the world! “Yuu and his friends sure are adventurous,” you remark in amusement, sipping idly on your own drink. It’s milder than either of theirs since you were assigned as the designated driver.

“You’ve heard of the guy. Hinata Shoyo, I think it was.”

You inhale your drink and start heaving. Akane’s hands flutter all over you in panic while Yuki descends in deep thought.

Yuki snapped her fingers. “Oh, right! Wasn’t that the first year who had a big crush on you when we were in second year? Noya’s favorite kouhai, Shoyo.”

Hinata Shoyo.

The first time you met Hinata Shoyo was when Nishinoya decided to invite close friends to watch them play. It was an ordinary day, and they had just come back from the Interhigh preliminaries. Their coach agreed to let them take it slow and relax, so Noya used it as an opportunity to invite his friends (it was just you who was free) to watch (read: to show off).

Having nothing better to do during club hours, you agreed.

You were late, stuck with cleaning duty, and forced to catch up to Noya, who had first wheeled into the volleyball gymnasium. The door was shut. You took deep, deep breaths before sliding it open and nearly having your face flattened by a volleyball speeding towards you.

Well, of course, it was a volleyball gymnasium.

Luckily, you managed to swerve out of the way and prevent long-lasting damage to your face. But the shock was more brutal than the would-be impact. You gaped at the ball that rolled onto the grass miles away. Just how fast was that thing?

“Y/N!” Nishinoya’s voice rang throughout the stunned silence of the gym.

Your head whipped around just in time to see a little guy with a mop of orange hair bound over to you.

“Sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry—-” He then looked up at you, now only inches away, and seemed to have run out of apologies. His face exploded in a bright shade of red, but his eyes looked like they were bluescreening.

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s fine!” You wave your hand to dismiss his guilt. “I didn’t actually get hit. Well—almost. But I didn’t! That was amazingly fast!” You hoped the praise would snap him out of it, but he was still gaping at you like you’d grown two heads. Or maybe you had something on your face?

Nishinoya comes barreling over soon enough, brows furrowed. “Y/N! Are you okay? You could’ve died!”

You frowned. “Idiot. I’m not going to die from that.”

Your statement seemed to shatter the tension that froze everyone in place. The captain murmured for them to continue practicing as Noya fluttered all over you like a mother hen, insisting on an ice pack.

Tanaka materialized out of nowhere. “Y/N! It’s you!”

“Ryuu!” You exclaim in delight, returning his hug. “Ryuu, it’s nice to see you again!”

Nishinoya turned to the tiny redhead with a raised eyebrow. “You good, Shoyo?”

Shoyo finally flinched out of his daze, narrowly avoiding your curious eyes. “Y-Yes! I’m just—I’ll go get the ball!” he squeaked out, nearly tripping over his own feet on a flat surface.

Nishinoya snorted, sharp eyes following Shoyo. “I think he has a crush on you.”

Tanaka cackled. “No way! Is that why Hinata looks so constipated?”

Hinata Shoyo. You glanced back just in time to catch him fumbling with the volleyball, trembling like a frightened mouse. It’s cute.

Now, you can confidently state that Hinata Shoyo is no longer just cute. Five years later, July, in an unsuspecting get-together party hosted by Nishinoya, and Hinata Shoyo definitely isn’t the same as before.

“Everyone!” Nishinoya’s voice bellows out throughout the venue. For such a small guy, he has the voice of a booming speaker. “Everyone, quiet! Shoyo’s here!”

Choruses of Hinata! echo through everyone as the crowd dispersed and bounded over to where Nishinoya was. You hear a faint laugh and a “Thank you!” From here, you could tell that his voice had gotten deeper. Still light and high, but it was different from the squeakiness you remembered.

Ever since finding out that Hinata had been back from Brazil, it turns out that his grand debut in the Nationals was aired all over. He’s famous now, not just some kid in Karasuno’s Volleyball Club.

“Ooh,” Yuki giggles maniacally. She hasn’t drunk anything yet. “He’s here. Do you think he still has a crush on you?”

“I doubt it. It was probably because I was his senpai back then. Remember how you reacted to Daichi-san visiting our hall? Everyone in our class was swooning, especially the boys!”

“Something about volleyball players, I tell you,” Yuki says, her gaze drifting over to where Akane was giggling as she talked with them. “Hmm. Speaking of them, I think one of them is on his way here.”

“What?”

Yuki takes one last sip of her tequila shot and leaves without another word. You didn’t have to turn—didn’t even have to move. You can feel his presence the moment he is right behind you, like a burst of warmth hovering, but it’s gold and bright, so you’re not terrified

Hinata Shoyo sits beside you, asking for a drink. You can’t help but stare.

He turned to you, then seemed to do a double take. Hinata Shoyo—now built twice as big as he once was; no longer the cute, lanky, and short kouhai from your past; with neatly trimmed hair and a much deeper voice—stares at you in astonishment. Hinata Shoyo emits a wordless exclamation.

“Senpai!” he exclaims in disbelief.

“Hinata,” you laugh softly, fondly. “We’re not in high school anymore. I’m pretty sure we’re the same age. You can just call me Y/N.”

“Y-You—” He splutters, face tinged pink despite the untouched shot in front of him. “Thanks!”

“You’re welcome.” You smile, tilting your head and grinning wider at the way his eye catches on the curve of your neck. “So, how have you been?”

He forgets about the drink he just ordered, seemingly getting redder in the face as you inch closer. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve assumed he was drunk. Hinata Shoyo grins sheepishly, blushing and looking beautiful under the dim lighting of the venue.

Swearing off of dating, hmm… 

You consider him—his bright eyes, his wide and ever-genuine smile, and his undivided attention on you. Does he still have a crush on you? Or was it just the surprise that had him so flustered? You throw your head back and gulp down a shot, ignoring the burn that slid down your throat. You suppose there was no harm in finding out.

[reidology13]

imgonnagetyouback

Spencer Reid x fem!reader - Undercover with your ex boyfriend

cw: suggestive, age gap, a gun is shot, a lil angst?

wc: 2.9k

a/n: this took sooo long and idk what to think of it, but it's something!!

As you stood outside the club, arms linked with Spencer Reid – your coworker and ex boyfriend – you wondered how exactly you ended up here. None of this would have happened if Prentiss knew about your history. Keeping your relationship, and the end of it, a secret had seemed like a good idea at the time, and had been going well until earlier that day. Prentiss calling you and Spencer into her office had already been unexpected, but being assigned with an undercover mission, as a couple, was enough to shock you into silence for a moment. Still, no amount of shock could have kept you from fighting Spencer when he argued against you being undercover with him. You were perfectly capable of doing your job, Prentiss knew that, Spencer knew that, and he would pay.

“We watch him from the bar, put on a show until he notices us, then we walk out and hope he takes the bait. Okay?” You were so caught up in your thoughts that it took a second for the sound of his voice register. What didn’t need time to sink in was the feeling of his breath, hot on your skin.

“I know the plan.” You rolled your eyes, tensing as he slipped his arm out of yours, wrapping it around your waist, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt, “Dick.”

“Time to head inside. Remember, this unsub needs more from a couple than just a younger woman, he needs you to be physically affectionate.” The disembodied voice of your Unit Chief filled your ears, and Spencer gave you a look that had to be designed entirely to piss you off. It was working.

“We can do that, Prentiss.” Spencer said, the smile barely hidden in his voice, his thumb rubbing over one of your ribs.

“Let’s go.” You stepped out of his reach, grabbing his hand and dragging him with you into the club. The moment you were inside he pulled you closer to him, keeping you glued to his side as he steered you towards the bar. The way he took charge of the situation shouldn’t have been nearly as attractive as it was, a cruel reminder of what you had been. The awkward, nerdy Spencer Reid was gone, replaced by a version that even you had only seen a few times. It was a side of him that only came out on days – well, nights – when he needed to take control after a bad day.

Or, apparently, whenever he wanted it to.

As you sat at the bar, he seemed to decide the small gap the stools put between you was too much, shuffling to the edge of his and leaning in as far as he could. It was a precarious position, and if you hadn’t been undercover, you would have given him a shove and watched him scramble for the seat. That was what you would have done a few months ago, and he would have scowled, and you would have laughed until his pride gave up and he joined in. Instead, you mirrored him, leaning in until you could hear his hushed words in your ear.

“Can you see him?” You pulled back a bit, giving yourself a wider view of the crowded room as you searched for the suspect. Not that he was really a ‘suspect’ anymore, the profile and every single piece of evidence pointed to him. All that was left for you to do was get him out of the club and into a location where he would be of no danger to the public when your team apprehended him.

And you would, because there he was, near the wall at the back of the room, concealed in the crowd. Your eyes flashed back to Spencer’s immediately, you couldn’t risk blowing your cover because the unsub caught you staring.

“In the corner of the room, to your left.”

“Well then,” The momentary professionalism was gone from his voice, replaced by that infuriating, seductive, punchable smugness, “I guess all we have left to do is wait.”

Waiting was the last thing either of you would be doing. An unsub like this needed to be constantly entertained, like a cat distracted by the nearest movement. The job was to draw and keep his attention, and to be honest, that was the last thing you wanted to do with Spencer. It was also the only thing you had ever wanted in your entire life, which was why you were not giving your hormones an ounce of attention.

“Okay, but right now he hasn’t looked our way once, so either we get moving, or we might as well pack up and leave.” You hissed under your breath, the tone of your voice harsher than you had intended.

“He's not going to take the bait if you keep glaring at me like that, we're supposed to be a couple, remember?” He might have been the most infuriating person whose presence you had ever been subjected to, but he was right. You contorted your face into a smile, waving the bartender over and ordering the first non alcoholic drink that came to mind. 

“I really don't like you, you know that right?” You ran your hand over his chest, fingers toying with the collar of his shirt. 

“I know.”

You didn’t respond, opting instead to take a small sip from your glass, carefully ignoring the man beside you. Everything these days had to be careful. Answering the team's questions as to why you two had gone from best friends to barely talking, avoiding all of your old haunts, prying the remnants of him out of your life. You were tired of it.

“So, how are we supposed to draw his attention?” You sighed, placing your drink down as you glanced at the unsub, not at all surprised to see him looking in the opposite direction to the two of you.

“Come here.” He wasn’t even looking at you as he tapped his thigh, barely sparing you an ounce of his attention as he looked around the room.

“Fuck you.” 

“That was my plan B.” If you weren’t already rolling your eyes, you would have then. Still, there was something about hearing the immature, juvenile jabs from Spencer Reid, the man who was known for his grasp of language that was almost – almost – endearing.

“You’re disgusting.”

“You’re still sitting on your stool.”

“I’m not going to sit anywhere else.” You flinched when you felt his hands make contact with your waist.

“And how do you expect the unsub to target us when you won’t let me touch you?”

“Fine.” You slid off the seat, allowing his hands on your waist to help pull you up the extra distance, bringing you to perch on his lap. It made it worse that you had to face him to keep eyes on the unsub, meaning that your lips were only a few inches apart.

“How easy was that?”

“I don’t care about this,” you gestured to the space—or lack thereof—between you, “I care about how smug you’re being.”

“Why?”

“Because you didn't want me here in the first place, and now you're trying to punish me in some weird, sick game of yours.”

“I'm not trying to punish you, and the only reason I didn’t want you here was how dangerous this is.” You tried to focus on the anger you felt at him thinking you couldn’t handle yourself, rather than the part of you that revelled in how protective he could be.

“Then why have you been like this all night? All annoying and flirty?”

“I'm not sure about the annoying part, but do you expect me not to flirt with the beautiful woman on my arm?” He took a glance at where you were perched on his knee before correcting himself, “In my lap?”

You weren't sure how you were planning on responding to him, but luckily you didn't have to, catching the unsub’s gaze on the two of you out of the corner of your eye. He seemed mildly interested, not overly intrigued by the display, but enough to have marked you down as a possibility. 

“He's looking at us.” You murmured to Spencer, resting your head on his shoulder, the position designed to force you to keep your eyes off the unsub, no matter how tempting it was to steal a glance.

“When you’re sure you have his attention, walk out and go to the alley behind the building.” Emily’s voice in your ear felt like a slap to the face, a nice reminder that you and Spencer were under constant surveillance, and that you were at risk of a stern conversation after this was over. Inappropriate workplace conduct, probably. You mentally thanked Garcia and Morgan for greasing the wheels.

“Yes, ma’am.” 

A jolt ran through you when Spencer’s fingers dug into the flesh of your thigh, the sensation so deeply entwined with good memories that it was almost nostalgic. You ran a hand down his arm slowly, almost sensually, a romantic gesture to anyone that saw, unaware of the subtle pinch you gave his wrist. You held back a snicker when he hissed under his breath and loosened his harsh grip, but refused to move his hand from its new resting place.

“What was that for?” His voice went all high pitched and whiny, the cute annoying way that it always did when he complained.

“Don’t act dumb, Spence, it doesn’t suit you.” The nickname slipped out absentmindedly, it didn’t cross your mind that you hadn’t even called him by anything but his last name in months. His breath hitched, and you lifted your head from his shoulder to see what was going on, to make sure that he was okay. 

Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him, slack jawed and gazing at you like you were the only being in the universe. It was the way he used to look at you when you were curled up on his couch, when you were writhing underneath him, when he whispered ‘good morning’ with a soft kiss to your shoulder. When you were his. It might as well have been another one of his miraculous magic tricks, the way it made every sane thought in your head disappear.

Which was probably why you made no move to stop him when his lips crashed into yours, hands cupping your cheeks with a familiar intensity. You melted into his touch, almost forgetting why you were there in the first place. Your hands roamed all over him, frustrated at the inability to be everywhere at once, eventually settling for tangling in his hair. A small cough from the bartender separated you, Spencer holding your bottom lip for a moment too long as he pulled back. It was hard to tell how long the kiss lasted, only that you were so oxygen deprived by the end of it that your head spun. Or that was just a side effect of him. Probably. 

Reality sunk in, and you couldn’t bring yourself to meet Spencer’s eyes again, keeping your focus on his messier-than-usual hair. That you had caused. 

Fuck.

“That was…” His breathless voice was almost too much, like he had just come up for air after being underwater. 

“Nothing, Reid.” If he had been holding his breath, you had been drowning.

“Say it again,” He tilted your head with the hands that were still holding your face like it was made of porcelain, forcing you to meet his gaze. Dark eyes bore into your own as you let go of his hair, hands falling numbly to your sides, “my name.”

“We’re at work.” 

Although the reminder had been intended for him, saying the words prompted you to direct your focus back to the case. You glanced subtly in the direction of the unsub, hoping to find him fixated on your display, only to discover that he wasn’t there. Panic rose in your chest at the thought your momentary distraction had allowed him to get away, follow some other couple out. If new victims popped up the next day it would be your fault.

And then you saw him, significantly closer with his eyes locked on you both, and you were sure that you had never been so relieved to be the target of a serial killer. Unfortunately, he wasn’t caught yet, and it was still up to you and Spencer to lure him out of there. Which meant more touching, more talking, more him. 

“Baby, let’s get out of here.” You made sure to speak loud enough for the unsub to hear, and gave the bartender a look of annoyance, as if he was being an imposition by asking you to not rip the clothes off of each other in public. You might have felt a bit guilty if lives weren’t at stake.

Spencer nodded, keeping his hands firmly on your waist even after he had helped you get down from his lap. He leant down to press another kiss to your lips, and you forced yourself to keep your head on straight, giggling as he pulled back, chasing his lips playfully. Up on your tiptoes, you kissed his jaw lightly. The whole walk out of the club was spent all over each other, like you couldn’t get enough, one of you was always touching the other.

As you meandered onto the street, you spotted a statue of a little cherub angel, saying something cheesy and romantic. Spencer leaned down, breath hot on your ear as he whispered in an exaggerated sensual tone, “Don’t even blink. Blink and you’re dead. They’re fast, faster than you could believe.”

That time, you couldn’t tell yourself the laugh that fell from your lips wasn’t real, it was so Spencer to make a joke about Doctor Who while you were actively being stalked by a serial killer. You took advantage of his proximity to pull him into another kiss, stumbling into the alley where the ambush was to take place. He pushed you against the wall, peppering your face and neck with kisses, his hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise. You heard a shuffle in the alley, the cock of a gun, and the rest was a blur as the two of you were knocked to the ground, just as a gunshot rang out.

.*☆¸•

When everything was over, when the unsub had been apprehended and the team was back at the local police station, you couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed. Not that the unsub had been caught, of course, but at the fact that was most definitely the last time you would get to touch Spencer like that.

You hadn’t expected him to show up at the door of your hotel room at two in the morning, about an hour after you had made it back from the police station.

“What are you doing here.” It wasn’t a question, it was a polite way of telling him to go away before you did something stupid, like slap him. Or kiss him. Or both.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” He ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair as he stepped forwards, the fire with which he looked at you bordering on a glare. Every second he spent in the room with you was clouding your thoughts, at least the sensible ones that were reminding you of every reason why you shouldn’t just drag him over to the ran through hotel bed.

“Get out.”

“Tell me that it wasn’t real.” In a few short steps he was standing right before you—fuck, his legs were long, which shouldn’t have been as hot as it was—with those brown eyes staring into your soul.

“You know I can’t.” You wished you had more control over what you said, and you wished that he had more self restraint when it came to his actions.

Neither of you did, however, and you had always been weak when it came to him, too weak to care when he leant down and pressed his lips to yours. It wasn’t soft, it was restrained, as if it was taking everything in him to hold back. You didn’t want him to hold back, even if it was out of respect for you, impatience was your vice. Grabbing the collar of his stupidly sexy sleep shirt, you pulled him in deeper, hoping the sensation of his tongue could lick away the bitter taste in your mouth. 

This time, when you separated, he was the one to pull back, his breathing heavy and a feral glint in his eyes that were otherwise filled with sorrow.

“I’m sorry.” Neither of you needed to clarify what he was referring to, and neither of you wanted to. The few months after he was released from prison were Hell for both of you, for entirely different reasons.

“I don’t care about that, we’re okay.” It was only half a lie, murmured against his neck as you pressed desperate, sloppy kisses to his skin. Of course you cared, but that care was being swiftly overridden by much more single-minded feelings. You weren’t okay, but maybe you could be.

He looked right through you in that way only Spencer Reid ever could, and he knew just as well as you did that you were lying. You both needed to talk, and you would, at least that’s what you told yourselves. 

Not that night, though.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

tysm for reading!!

Tags: @reidmoony-toast + a little dedicatory tag for @darkmatilda ty for being like the entire reason I finished this

[livwritessometimes]

F1 Uni Series: Intro Part 2

: Now that you know about ‘The Grid.’ Let us take a look at the other group in this series.

: All these people were randomly assigned to the same guide on the first day of Uni and ya rest is history

: Prev | Oscar’s Version

: Series Masterlist

: Main Masterlist

…

Y/n L/n

• Y/n L/n, claims to be the best thing that has every happened to F1 University

• Struggles to pay rent which is why she lives with Alex and Dylan (even though she has money to support her daily coffee obsession)

• Friends with Daniel and Pierre (she feels that Daniel is her spirit animal and she just tolerates Pierre)

Alexandra Saint Mleux

• Alexandra Saint Mleux, the classy Art History Major

• For her friends she is Alex, the kid who almost burned down her (Y/n and Dylan’s) apartment while trying to make popcorn

• She believes that she can read auras just because she went to a carnival as a kid and a psychic told her that she has ‘the gift’

Dylan O'Brien

• Dylan O’Brien, thinks he’s the only voice of reason in the group (he’s not)

• Likes to scare people by claiming he can hear voices in his head (Psychology major does that to a person)

• Had the fattest crush on peppa pig growing up (even though bacon is his favourite thing to eat)

Renee Rapp

• Renee Rapp, the actual voice of reason of this group (Mother in other words)

• As a kid she realised 2 things while watching Judge Judy: first she wants to be a lawyer and second that her love for Judy was more than just admiration

• Likes to believe that the rest of her group won’t be alive without her there (it’s true)

Chris Briney

• Christopher Briney, the clumsy nurse studying at F1 University

• Most of the time he has to use his knowledge on himself (boy trips on air istg)

• Has an apartment with Jordan but doesn’t know that it’s haunted

Francisca Cerqueira Gomez

• Francisca Cerqueira Gomez or Kika

• Her dream is to live like a rich soccer mom who drinks vodka from a flask during the game

• Believes she’s the next best fashion designer (she is) also has a secret beef with Lewis because they both want to have their collection win the end term runway project

Jordan Fisher

• Jordan Fisher, son of a famous businessman

• His dad wanted him to pursue business but Jordan was like nah and went for music instead

• He drowned as a child and his heart stopped for like 2 seconds and ever since then he claims that he can “see ghosts.” He also didn’t tell Chris (his roommate) that their house is haunted

…

Tags: @regalbanshee | @be-your-coffee-pot | @mrsbrxkkxr | @princessria127 | @moonraysandstars | @prettiest-at-the-party | @theblueblub | @magixpracticality | @slytherinholland | @overlyexcitedoutlaw | @marvel-at-stucky | @crumbssss | @a-beaverhausen

[reccyls]

The Robin Who Grazed the Reaper’s Secret Eagerly Awaits His Words (Part 1)

My translation of Victor's 2025 birthday story!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue (Victor's POV)

---

The middle of February was approaching.

(He asked me to come to a different room instead of the lounge, I wonder what this is about.)

William had called for me, so I made my way towards one of the castle’s rooms.

(It didn’t sound like anything serious, though.)

Arriving at the designated room, I knocked on the door.

Kate: William, it’s Kate.

William: Come in.

William was elegantly sipping some tea while seated as I entered.

Kate: Sorry to keep you waiting.

William: I haven’t been waiting for that long. Don’t worry about it.

I nervously sat on the chair opposite of William.

William: I’ve called you today to discuss none other than Victor.

Kate: Wait, do you mean–

Catching onto what he was implying, I sat up straighter.

William: That’s right, it’s about his birthday.

This coming 20th of February was Victor’s birthday.

(I couldn’t celebrate properly last year, because I only found out it was his birthday the day after.)

–flashback– Victor: Yesterday was my birthday. Kate: …Huh? Kate: HUH!?? –end flashback–

I’d resolved to celebrate his birthday on the actual day itself next year, and that day was quickly approaching.

William: I know you’ve been thinking hard about how to celebrate this year, so I thought we could work together.

Kate: William…

I was happy to have such a strong ally in my quest.

William: As we both know, our hardworking queen’s aide doesn’t take any time off. William: Not even for his own birthday.

With an amused smile, William put forth a proposal.

William: So why not force him to take a break?

Kate: What?

He passed me a stack of papers. Confused, I glanced over them, seeing that it was a mission report.

Kate: This is… the report from your investigation the other day, isn’t it? Kate: It says the mission was completed without any problems.

William: The mission is over, true. I just haven’t submitted the report yet.

Kate: But why–

William: I was thinking of adding a recommendation to this report. I think that the queen’s aide should go inspect this site personally.

Kate: So that means…

William: What a keen little robin.

With a satisfied, mischievous grin, William picked up a pen and scribbled in a line at the end of the report.

William: On Victor’s birthday, we’ll send him on a fake mission to force him to take some time off. William: However, if we left it at just that, he’d probably suspect something was going on. That’s where you come in.

Kate: Right.

William: Join him on this fake assignment and discreetly make sure he gets some rest. William: This is a mission only you can complete. Will you accept?

Seeing William’s sly smirk, I felt my own mouth quirking into a smile.

Kate: Leave it to me!

And so began the plan to get Victor to rest and relax for his birthday.

...

Victor: Kate, what’s the matter?

Kate: N-Nothing!

It was now the day of Victor’s birthday. I couldn’t help but fret about keeping the plan secret.

(I have to be really careful not to let anything show on my face.) (But how much can I really fool Victor… he’s really observant…)

We were in a small suburban town close to London. Walking side by side with Victor, I ran over William’s plan in my head.

(It’s good that we were able to plan together until the last minute.)

William wasn’t with us today, but he’d placed the order for the cake and food, along with helping out with a lot of other small details.

(He said, “I leave the rest to you,” so that means I need to do my best!)

I was filled with a renewed determination to carry out my part to get Victor to rest.

Victor: You look like you’re raring to go today.

Kate: Well, it’s been so long since we were on a mission together.

My heart began to pick up, and my next words left me in a rush.

(But, none of it is a lie.)

Kate: Even if it’s just for a mission, I’m really happy we can spend time together like this.

Victor was always so busy. So even being able to do something simple like this was enough to lift my mood.

Victor: I hardly ever get the chance to leave London. So even if it is just a mission, I’m glad for the opportunity. Victor: The fact that it’s with you just makes it all the better.

Stopping in the street, Victor extended a hand towards me while bowing his head slightly in my direction.

Victor: Shall we make the most of this chance?

Victor smiled happily.

Victor: For the whole day, as much as possible, I’d like it if you didn’t let go of my hand.

Equally surprised and pleased by Victor’s words, I felt my mouth curving into a smile. My own hand reached out.

Kate: Gladly.

Our hands overlapped, palm to palm.

Victor: Let’s set off, my dearest robin.

[rottenpumpkin13]

please how does friendsgiving go for asgzc??

• Sephiroth spends three weeks researching "typical family Thanksgiving dynamics". His primary conclusion: family gatherings are less about gratitude and more about emotional warfare. He decides he will replicate this to get the most authentic experience possible.

• Angeal assigns everyone designated dishes through a groupchat he forcibly created titled "ain't nobody help last year"

• Texts sent to the group include "Genesis, you're on pie duty, and I swear to Gaia if you bring apple pie instead of pumpkin pie ,I'll personally escort you back to the goddess with a wooden spoon inserted in an unkind place."

• Sephiroth walks through the door and immediately starts asking everyone who they voted for in the last election.

• Cloud is assigned potatoes. He brings yams. Angeal is confused. Cloud is confused. Angeal just pats him on the head and tells him to go sit down.

• Zack is banned from bringing anything requiring actual cooking after the time he tried to "speed up" the cooking process with fire materia and singed off Angeal's eyebrows. He's now only allowed to bring drinks and plastic utensils. Still manages to bring paper plates that dissolve on contact with hot food.

• Sephiroth sees Zack and Cloud having a friendly talk and decides to bring up Aerith and his opinions on who's a better suitor for her.

• Angeal starts stress drinking in the kitchen as soon as Genesis walks through the door with an apple pie and his sword to defend himself.

• Zack gets effectively banned from the kitchen because he keeps picking at the food and eating it. Angeal tried the wooden spoon as a method of discipline, but the spoon had gravy on it so Zack kept trying to lick it.

• Sephiroth hones in on Zack as he's leaving the kitchen.

Sephiroth: So how are your career aspirations progressing relative to statistically average performance metrics for individuals of your demographic? *Zack starts crying*

• Cloud brought Banora White apples instead of the bread rolls he was assigned. When asked about this, he says Genesis told him bread rolls were "cancelled" and he had to bring apples instead. Angeal has the type of breakdown where he's on the kitchen floor, laughing with a wine glass in hand while having a conversation with the turkey in the oven.

• Angeal posts an aesthetic picture on his social media with the whole group smiling. He captions it "Grateful for friends ❤️" but the reality is that he yelled at them two minutes before the photo was taken because no one remembered to bring drinks.

• Three different music playlists compete for dominance: Genesis' orchestral versions of Loveless: the musical, Zack's "All I Want For Christmas Is You" on repeat, and Sephiroth's documentary podcast about the history of cutlery.

• There's a photo of Sephiroth on Zack's camera roll where he's dissociating while eating a turkey leg ???

• Cloud and Zack have a fallout because the way mac n' cheese is made in Gongaga vs. Nibelheim is a serious cultural divide.

Zack: In Gongaga, we add tomato sauce! Cloud: In Nibelheim, we add breadcrumbs! Sephiroth: Mac n' cheese is not native to either regions. *unintelligible yelling from Zack and Cloud*

• Genesis is asked to lead the group in prayer before the meal.

Genesis: Our goddess who resides within the Lifestream, when the war of the beasts brings about the world's end— Zack: NO.

• They all go around saying what they're thankful for.

Zack: I'm thankful for my best friend Cloud!

Cloud: I'm thankful for the opportunity to be here with you guys.

Genesis: I'm thankful for poetry.

Angeal: I'm thankful for patience and wine.

Sephiroth: I'm thankful that statistically speaking, all of us have unresolved childhood traumas that directly stem from our inability to process emotions, form healthy attachments, and keep secrets. For example, Genesis broke Angeal's favorite mug.

Genesis: YOU PROMISED YOU WOULDN'T TELL!

Angeal: THE GREEN MUG?

Zack: WTF YOU TOLD ME THE YELLOW MUG I GAVE YOU FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY WAS YOUR FAVORITE!

Cloud: YOU GAVE ANGEAL A MUG BUT GOT ME A KEYCHAIN?

*they all start yelling at each other*

Sephiroth: Thanksgiving feels authentic now.

[emma23]

Perfect match :

Peter Parker x reader

Peter Parker was leaning against the lockers, fiddling with the strap of his backpack as he waited for you outside your biology class. His soft brown eyes lit up the second you stepped into the hallway.

"Hey!" he greeted with his signature boyish enthusiasm. "How was class?"

"Terrible," you replied with a dramatic groan, holding up a notebook. "I accidentally wrote the wrong answers in the group quiz, and now our team officially hates me."

Peter gave you a sympathetic smile. "Come on, Y/N. They're probably over it already. You're too likable to hate."

"Tell that to Mia. She said, and I quote, ‘you’re banned from ever leading anything again.’"

He laughed, a warm sound that always made your stomach flip. "Well, lucky for me, you’re great at picking best friends," he teased, nudging your shoulder lightly with his.

The two of you fell into step, heading toward the cafeteria. It had been years since Peter stumbled into your life with his awkward, nerdy charm. Somewhere along the way, the boy who used to sneak Star Wars jokes into every conversation became the guy who made your heart race every time he smiled.

When you walked into the cafeteria, it didn’t take long for the teasing to start.

“Oh my God!” Ned practically shouted, drawing everyone’s attention.

“What now?” Peter asked, confused as he sat down across from him.

“Look at you two!” Ned gestured wildly between the both of you.

That’s when you noticed it.

You were wearing an oversized dark green hoodie with a subtle design on the sleeve, paired with black jeans and your beat-up Converse. Peter, sitting right across from you, was wearing the exact same outfit.

"Wow." You blinked, staring at him. "We’re—matching?"

Peter followed your gaze to his hoodie and then back to yours. His cheeks immediately turned pink. "Uh—oh. I swear, I didn’t mean to copy you—"

“Sure, sure," you teased, narrowing your eyes playfully. "Did you sneak into my room and plan this or something?"

"No!" he protested, flustered. "It’s just…a coincidence."

"Right," Ned chimed in with a smirk. "Totally innocent coincidence."

Despite your friends’ relentless teasing, you couldn’t help but smile at how perfectly in sync you and Peter seemed to be.

Later that day, you were both sprawled on his bed at Aunt May's apartment, working on a physics assignment. The hoodie coincidence hadn’t stopped being funny, and every time you caught him glancing at your outfit, you burst into giggles.

"Stop laughing!" Peter groaned, throwing a pillow at you.

"I can't help it!" you replied, dodging the pillow. "It’s just—it’s cute, okay?"

Peter stopped mid-throw, his cheeks flushing. "You…think it’s cute?"

You shrugged casually, hiding your own embarrassment by pretending to focus on your notes. "I mean, yeah. It’s kind of adorable that we’re so in sync without even trying."

"Well, I think you look good in green," Peter said softly, his voice a little quieter.

Your heart skipped a beat. "You’re just saying that because you’re wearing the same thing."

He smirked. "Maybe. Or maybe I’m saying it because it’s true."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

The teasing and banter continued all evening. Eventually, the physics assignment was abandoned in favor of binge-watching your favorite show. The matching hoodies became less of a joke and more of a comforting reminder of how close you were—two people perfectly aligned, even without trying.

Somewhere between the second and third episode, Peter leaned over, his hand brushing yours. It wasn’t a grand, dramatic moment—just a quiet, accidental touch that sent sparks up your arm.

"You know," he began, his voice low and uncertain. "I think today was one of my favorite days."

"Because we got to match?" you teased, though your heart was pounding.

"Because I got to spend it with you," he said simply.

Your teasing smile faltered as his words sank in. For once, you didn’t have a sarcastic comeback. Instead, you turned toward him, closing the space between you.

"Peter Parker, you’re such a dork," you murmured before pressing your lips to his.

The kiss was sweet and tentative at first, like testing the waters, but it quickly deepened. His hands hesitated before resting on your waist, pulling you closer.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, his brown eyes searching yours.

"That was…" he trailed off, unable to find the words.

"Perfect," you supplied, grinning.

Peter chuckled softly, leaning his forehead against yours. "We should match more often."

[b4bybunz]

Just Friends

Satoru Gojo x Reader

2.5k words

Content: public, choking, etc, etc

A/n: hey sistas :3 if u didn’t know im in love with Gojo

“I need you.” were the only words that Gojo needed to hear before he was the assigned designated driver for you and your friends. He cancelled all plans he had and dropped everything to be right where he was at the moment which was in the driver seat of your small girly car.

“I’m surprised you didn’t have any plans tonight out of all nights.” You said as he adjusted the driver's seat to his liking.

“I know, crazy right.” He laughed nervously. He did in fact have plans, plans to host his own New Year’s Eve party, that he quickly cancelled in order to make you, his pretty lady friend, happy.

“Thank you for this Satoru.” You put a hand on his arm, that sent a rush of heat through his body. You noticed the way his veiny arm tensed when you touched him, ‘weird’ you thought.

“It’s not a big deal,” He finishes adjusting the seat then looks at you as your hand still rested on his arm your perfectly manicured nails grazing the vein on his pale skin “You know I’d do anything to make you happy” his voice deepened as his slender blue eyes looked into your big brown ones. The way he looked at you made your breath hitch in your throat, your mind completely blanked.

“Because that's what friends do.” He smiled as his voice returned back to normal.

“...yeah…friends.” You gave him a slight side eye and then you turned to look out the window waiting for your girlfriends.

Satoru always did things like that, things to get you flustered. It wasn’t that he liked you or anything, that's just how he was. A charmer that used his looks and charisma to get what he wanted. What you didn’t know was that he wasn’t like that with everyone, just you.

Your hair was in its natural state. Curls defined perfectly and smelled of coconut and mango. Your skin shined beneath the streetlight that shined through your tinted windshield and your body sat nicely in the black lacy top with matching bottoms. Satoru could not stop staring at you, and you could feel his eyes looking at you as his tongue licked his bottom lip slightly.

“What is it?” You finally give him attention.

“You look really pretty.” He grinned “and you smell good, that's all” His hand rested on his chin as he continued to stare at you.

You tried not to smile at the compliment, instead you rolled your eyes trying to brush off the feeling that was in your stomach. He was just a friend, you couldn’t be feeling whatever you felt in the pit of your stomach for him. You’re just friends you kept repeating in your mind. Finally, your slow ass friends made their way to your car so you could finally get to this NYE party.

During the drive you and your friends talked loudly about random shit, and sang along to the songs on your playlist. All three of you were hyped for this frat party, the only thing Satoru was hyped about was having you on his arm. Even though it wasn’t anything official, he wanted to let everyone know he wanted you. He’s wanted you since he met you, but you made it clear that he was just your friend. Friends don’t feel the way Satoru felt about you and he was convinced you felt the same way he just had to test his theory a little. He was already touchy, but that wasn’t enough. You still called him your friend, so he planned to just be straight up and ask when the time was right.

“Why’re you so quiet, you’re literally never quiet?” You look at him.

“I’m not quiet, am I quiet?” he asks your friends for a second opinion.

“Yes.” they both say.

“It’s scarily quiet,” Your friend Liz says.

“Literally.” Your other friend Stella says

“Fuck you guys, I’ve been talking this whole time. You guys are just loud and don’t listen to what I have to say.” He lies.

“Whatever.” You look him up and down analyzing him.

“Unlike you, staring doesn't bother me.” He teases. “You’re going to get a lot of stares tonight looking as good as you do right now.” He says boldly.

“Oh, shut up.” You push his arm, he tenses up again as he slightly bites his lip.

Your friends watched the whole interaction, they swear they could see hearts in your eyes as you watched the way he bit his lip.

“Get a room you two.” Your friend Stella teases.

“Maybe we will.” Satoru says.

It didn’t sound like a joke.

“Oh look, we’re here.” Satoru fills the silence and parks on a spot in the grass in front of the huge Fraternity.

The music was booming out of the house, as well as the sounds of people having fun, playing games, and celebrating. All of you got out of the car immediately and practically ran to the action. You and your friends saw your other mutual friends screaming in excitement and gushing over each other's outfits.Gojo stayed close behind you, almost guarding you.

“Who’s that?” Your mutual friend raised an eyebrow.

“Her boyfriend.” Liz blurted out.

“No-” you start.

“Yes.” Gojo smirks and immediately wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. There goes that feeling again, the butterflies. Heat rises to your face as you feel his farms tighten and his body press up against you.

“Okay, I see you y/n, popping out for the New year.” your friend teased.

“New Year, New Man!” Stella egged it on.

You just sighed in response. “I need a drink.” you unlatched his arms from around you and walked to the kitchen with him following behind.

You weren’t one to drink, but with the way the night was already starting you needed something. You grabbed a jello shot off of the counter and threw it back like nothing.You felt someone press up behind you that you thought was Gojo, but when the guy spoke you knew it wasn’t. You turned around and the guy trapped you against the counter with his hands pressed on each side of you.

“You look good, Ma.” The random guy said. He was drunk, all you could smell was beer on his hot breath and it made you scrunch your nose.

“Excuse me.” You push him back and he presses up against you more. The house was so crowded Gojo must've got caught in the crowd.

“You’re not going to say thank you?” The guy leaned in more. His hot breath hits your nose directly.

“I will when you back up-” you start before Satoru snatched him off of you.

“Get the fuck off of her, dude.” he pushes the guy onto the ground and the guy looks up at Gojo which towered over almost everyone in the kitchen. You look up at Satoru before he pulls you against him with one hand.

“You okay?” He said in your ear, his voice going deep again. The way he spoke made your legs nearly give out.

“Mhm.” you nod subtly, biting your lip.

That’s when he knew, he got you.

“Come on.” He took your hand and took you to the backyard that was quiet. You didn’t say anything, you just followed him.

He led you all the way to the far side of the backyard, next to a big tree.

“What are we doing out here?” you ask him.

“Talking.” He licks his lips.You feel the butterflies again.

“About?” You notice he’s still holding your hand. He begins playing with your rings as he speaks.

“Us.” Satoru continues looking at your hand. Your breath hitches and he watches how you react.

“You like me, don't you?” He has a big grin on his face.

“N-no, we’re just friends.” You say, he gives you a look that calls out your bullshit.

“I don’t like you like that, Satoru.” You give him a serious look.

“Oh yeah?” he says and you nod “Well why are you still holding my hand?”

“Fuck you.” you snatch your hand away and begin to walk away

“Fuck me.” he says which stops you in your tracks. “I want you.” he adds.

You turn and look at him, those eyes piercing into you. Satoru looks you up and down, his chest heaving. It’s almost like you’re being pulled toward him the way your body gets closer and closer to his.

“Fuck you?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Please.” his eyes plead.

“Hm, no.” You pull him by his wrists and put his hands on your ass. “How about you fuck me.” You bite your lip a little before his lips crash onto yours.

Your hands on his strong biceps as he kisses you deeply making you stumble backwards slightly. The taste of your lips making him moan as he kisses you hungrily, needing to taste all of you. His tongue in your mouth lapping against yours creating a sloppy mess as his hands grip and rub your ass, in one maneuver he turns you around and presses you up against the tree. His knee in between your thighs making your lips pull away from his to release a sweet moan before pulling his lips back onto yours. The way his lips tasted was almost addictive, You needed more, and he gave it to you. Lifting you up by your thighs he wrapped your legs around him as his bulge grinded directly into your heat everytime your lips met each other. The warmth of your pussy made his cock twitch in his pants, he had to stop.

“Wait.” He pulled back breathing hard.

“Don’t stop.” you pulled him back in.

“We’re in public.” he said between kisses.

“No one can see.” You stopped kissing him and looked around.

The backyard was dark, especially nin the corner you both were in.

“Well I know that, but they’ll hear.” He said in your ear.

“I’ll be quiet.” you grin and plant a long kiss on his neck. “Take it out.” you say in his ear and just like an obedient dog that’s what he did.

You looked down and saw the outline of his thick and long dick. The thought of it being inside of you made you salivate. Satoru pulled your lace mesh pants and panties down, only exposing your pussy. His big strong arms held you underneath your legs.

“Ready?” he asked and you nodded.

He gently pushed the throbbing tip of his cock inside your plush gummy walls. Your mouth is agape from the full feeling of just the tip. Satoru himself already felt like he’d cum if he moved even slightly. You felt better than he’d ever imagine you feeling. Both of you just stuck until Satoru pushed his way deeper and deeper through your tight walls until his dick is inside of you fully. You had to widen your legs to let him in deeper, that’s just how thick it was.

“We should hurry before your friends come looking for you.” He tells you, almost giving you a warning on how he’s about to rail your guts. You nod in response feeling like you’d be too loud if you spoke.

The sound your pussy made around him was enough noise for the both of you as he began thrusting slowly. One of your hands held onto a tree branch for support and the other held Satoru close to you. Being quiet wasn’t too bad of a problem until Satoru couldn’t bear being slow and gentle. His dick began pounding into you rapidly making your voice squeak out ever so often. Your big brown eyes looking in his as you bite your lip trying to muffle the whimpers. The impact of his hips making your boobs bounce in and nearly out of the low cut shirt.

“Shhh..shit! You gotta be quiet, baby.” Satoru warned.

“It feels so good” you quietly cry out in his ear.

“Oh fuck, I know.” He chuckles quietly in your ear then puts his lips on yours to try and quiet you before he thrusts harder.

“Mm!” you moaned into his mouth at each thrust. He was deep in your guts to the point you couldn’t think straight. You could feel each vein of his throbbing dick inside you, it was like he was making your body accustomed to him and only him.

“Shhh.” he hushed you, putting a hand on your throat. His hips pounded into you needily, needing to make you cum as quickly as possibly wanting to make you feel good. His whole body felt hot with arousal for you.

“Right there toru~” You hum.

“There?” He slows his thrusts down, hitting that spot directly watching your eyes roll back. He hits that spot with such precision it almost sends you into over shock. At least you were somewhat quiet, the overwhelming pleasure only mustering shuddering breaths as hes grunting in your ear.

“Fuck baby, this pussy is so good.” Satoru’s hand squeezes your throat a little tighter as his hips thrust faster. You moan in response to his praise, your nails digging into his shoulder as you try and hold yourself up. A ring of cream forming around his thick cock as he fucked you good and deep. The only noises coming out of you were strained whimpers from the way his hand squeezed around your throat. You didn’t mind the way he chokes you, as long as his dick kept pounding your guts in.

“Y/n!” Gojo could hear your friends calling for you in the far distance. You looked at Gojo with wide pleading eyes pleading for him to make you cum before you were caught.

“Hold on, okay.” he stopped choking you and pressed your legs against your chest. He began sloppily pounding your poor cervix making you gush around him. Tears formed in your eyes as you tried to hold your moans back but failed. Your pussy dripping from the way he fucked you.

“I’m gonna- fuck.” Your chest heaved as your toes curl.

“Cum on my dick, make a mess on it. Do whatever you need to.” Saturo’s lips kissed your neck as he continued to pound deep bruising your cervix.

“I’m cumming~” You gripped his shirt as your legs shook uncontrollably. A knot forming in your stomach and your back arching up off of the tree.

“Fuck!” Satoru grunted as he pulled out before cumming.

Your pussy was a dripping creamy mess as your legs continued to shake around Satoru’s waist. It clenched around the air , needing Gojo to put it back in. You wanted more, just one more round is all you wanted. You could barely even speak, still in shock from how hard you came.

“Later.” He kisses your forehead and pulls your pants and panties back up. He sets you down before pulling up his own pants and making sure you both don’t look suspicious.

[katsona-the-katsequel]

Persona Teams Dynamics

This began as a way to determine what the second-in-command in each Persona team said about the team's priorities, but I ended up ranting about team dynamics in each game instead.

Warning: This ended up longer than expected.

P1 - Class 4

P1 felt less like an organization with a leader and more like "group project where the members were chosen at random by the teacher but luckily you got some friends with you. For some reason the teacher keeps handing you the info to give to the rest of the team and calling it 'Team Y/N'". I don't know if that was a good description, but its 2 AM and that's the best way I could describe it. I read the manga since I don't have a way to play the game, but it didn't feel like Naoya was the designated leader. More like they were all equals in the team but he was the one who already knew everyone and had more knowledge about the subject the teacher assigned them to do (what with Maki, Kazuya, and Philemon all revolving around him), so he ended up introducing them during the presentation.

You got all kinds of people in your team. The drama waiting to happen (Mark and Nate), the weirdgirl (Elly), the love decahedron (Naoya, Maki, Mark, Elly, Yuka), the kid who you have to forcefully drag to do his part but turns out to be good at it (Reiji), the ones who never comment on the groupchat nor attend team meetings but always manage to do their part in time (Yukki, Yuka, and Reiji), and the literal class clown (Brown). The kind of team project where you ended up either as "good acquaintances" or "close friends" in the end. Would choose them again if the teacher let them choose teammates for future projects. This makes the team really flexible to leadership changes. If Naoya isn't available (and he literally isn't in P2), then Nate, Elly, or Yukki step in, quickly followed by Maki, Reiji or Mark. In fact, some of them might go off to do their own thing without informing the others and no one will get mad.

P2:IS - OG Masked Circle

It was a series of circumstances that led to Tatsuya being the leader. Putting aside the subconscious "Red Hawk has always been the leader" thing, Lisa is bound to follow him because of her crush and because the note from the Kasu guys that caused all this was directed to him. Michel seems to already have had some degree of admiration for the "cool Sevens kid", nevermind that he awoke to his Persona way after Michel. Both Lisa and Michel realized Joker was focused on Tatsuya and began to defer to him. By the time Maya and Yukki joined, the team dynamics were already established, though the two newcomers didn't follow it as throughly as the others. Why should they? Tatsuya is literally a kid. That's why now and then it might seem like Maya or Yukki call the shots on something or the other. He's a leader the way the soccer team you formed over recess is the leader.

And so, it ends up with Tatsuya being the one who they allow to unofficially represent them, with Maya and Yukki being the ones they go to for actual advice. As the game progresses and Yukki becomes less and less involved in the general plot and backstory, Maya loses some of that leadership owed to her as one of the two adults. She doesn't have Yukki's supernatural knowledge, helpful contacts nor level-headness. And so, Tatsuya fully becomes the leader. Jun, who admires Tacchi, only helps to reinforce this dynamic. With their rediscovered memories Maya could shake up the dynamic a bit, fully reclaiming her role as the Big Sis who looks after the kids, but she's happy to let someone else take the lead. It's important to notice that at this point whenever she proposes or comes up with a plan, it's almost always guaranteed to be followed through. Maybe Tatsuya does feel like she should be the leader. Like he's expecting recess to end at any moment and the teacher to take over again.

And this directly leads us to...

P2:EP - Maya's Team

Honestly, the closest thing I can compare them to is the Crew of Light from Dracula. Everyone in the team agrees she's good and pure and want to protect her, despite her being one of the keys to stopping the Big Bad. She also has a timer that everyone is racing against (vampirification vs the Oracle of Maia). The entire team revolves around her, while having enough agency to go off and do side-quests on their own.

Now that I think about it, a Dracula AU for P2:EP sounds like a good idea...

Aside from that, there's no clear leader. At first it has the vibes of going on a magical adventure with your coworkers (only two of them are friends 😭), though by the end they are one of the teams with the deeper understanding of each other (really helps that they are already adults). They each take the lead depending on their area of expertise. Yes, this includes Tatsuya. If they had to choose a leader, it would be Maya, then Katsuya and Baofu would be tied, then Tatsuya with Ulala at the end. Tatsuya would be higher if he wasn't a teenager and it shows. Everyone asks him questions about this or that and he's got the NG+ stats, but at the same time you can't buy him alcohol 😂. Hard to take the lead when your big brother is on the same team.

P3 - SEES & Shadow Ops

Everyone give SEES a golden star for verbally assigning team roles. This is a strike team on a mission. Mitsuru is the team leader while Minato is the field leader. Answer to them depending on the situation, and if the usual one isn't available, go to their team/field counterpart. They were also the first ones to assign someone specific the role of navigator and support and play on their strengths outside of the player's preferences. As a more formalized team, their relationships in and out of the battlefield are the most different. This rigid dynamic would naturally give way to seniority in the case Minato AND Mitsuru were missing.

Yukari: Oh, no! What should we do?

Everyone: (Looks at Aki)

Akihiko: Why are you staring?

Bless Aki's heart. If we're talking about the timeframe where Ikutsuki was still the adviser, then he would have been the one to step in. Despite being an adviser, it's clear that he was an unofficial leader, mostly due to being there from the very beginning. RIP, one more adult gone from their lives.

In any case, the Answer really changed SEES' rules. The role of field leader may have started as the one who seemed to have their shit together the most during battle, but it evolved into being synonymous with Minato. So when he Doored, it was Minato's Power that made everyone subconsiously decide Aigis was the new field leader. During their Shadow Ops days, the role of field leader is probably shared between her and Mitsuru. And with Akihiko coming and going between world training and school, the next ones to take charge would be Yukari (rule of seniority) and Fuuka (the navigator with all the knowledge).

P4 - Investigation Team

We're back to tomfoolery, but this time its organized tomfoolery... more or less. Yu became the leader as soon as he awakened to his Persona. At first it was because he was the only one with the power, but then he saved Yosuke who probably went "hey, this guy's the leader" to anyone who joined. Yu is the quiet kid who everyone assumes to be super smart and capable because he's very good at this one thing while internally he has as little a clue of what's going on as the rest of them. Unlike Tatsuya, Yu accepts the title and makes the most of it: he calls the shots on when they're going to the TV World, he buys all the weapons, they meet only at his house, etc. After some time they also began to follow Yu due to his kindness and help in their personal lifes. He's also hyper-competent at some things, which adds to the "capable, quiet kid" reputation, even after they get to know the dork underneath.

For anything Yu misses as the leader, Yosuke covers him. After all, he's his best friend, the second one to awaken to a Persona, the one who "owns" their only other HQ (Junes), the one who organizes most of their outings and the one who speaks what Yu can't put into words. They assume that (when the investigation is concerned) Yosuke speaks with Yu's voice. That's also why it was so powerful when Yu went against Yosuke on whether they should throw Namatame into the TV.

Aside from those two, the IT doesn't care for seniority much. Naoto is a strong contender for the next leader, followed by Chie and Teddie (trust me, bro), then Rise and finally Kanji and Yukiko. Depending on what stage of his character arc Teddie is, he might take on more responsibilities. It's hard to argue about the Expanse against a literal shadow. In general, the IT is the most friends to ever friend.

P5 - Phantom Thieves

These guys looked at the villain teams and rogue groups from TV and movies and said "I want to be like that". Their dynamics are also different both inside and outside the field. They are theatre kids doing their best Evil Pokémon Team impression, even playing into their stereotypes. But outside they are casual friends who diss people in their group chat. Same with Yu, Akira initially became the leader on account of being the first one with the power (and being human-shaped) and later became a true leader due to his charisma.

Being in the PTs would be a lot of fun, because they let be each other be as unhinged as they want in battle, else someone would have called Haru out way earlier. Like all Morally-Grey-Teams from TV, they assign vague roles to each member: Joker is the leader, Mona is the mascot and exposition guy, Skull is the brawn, Panther is the femme fatale, Fox is the cool one who does the skill cards, Queen is the tactician, Oracle is the support and Noir is the trigger-happy one. Roles vague enough to be flexible that also don't cover all they really do for the team, but it certainly makes them feel more official, so they keep it that way. The first rule of Phantom Thievery is to have fun and be yourself. The second rule is to help the weak and dethrone the mighty.

By those self-imposed roles, Makoto would be the one they would follow if Akira wasn't around, though Morgana would be the best option. After them, they would follow Futaba (perks of being the hacker), and then go for the two others who were there when the PTs were founded, with Yusuke and Haru at the end.

[feelbokkie]

L♡VE IN F♡CUS | Chapter 7

PAIRING: idol!Changbin x fem reader

WARNINGS: swearing, slight angst from being overworked

GENRE: smau, crack, angst, fluff

P♡V: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

SUMMARY: Amateur concert photographer Y/n has recently been promoted to junior music journalist. Her first assignment? An exposé on the popular Kpop boy group, Stray Kids. Spending an entire tour doing in depth interviews with eight men seems simple enough, but one member isn't exactly open to the idea. Will Y/n be able to break down the walls around his heart, or will her big break turn into a big disaster?

TAGLIST: closed

W♡RD C♡UNT: 3,007

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©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

One thing you love about touring is how easy it is for you to walk into a cafe or restaurant and work without having to worry about anyone being able to read or understand you. If you were back in Seoul, you'd be confined to your desk at your job or stuck in your apartment out of fear someone would notice what you're working on and leak it. But overseas, you have much more freedom in your workspace. Hell, if you could find a park with free wifi, you'd work in the grass.

Still, cautious that someone might recognize one of the kids' faces, you find a spot off in the corner and try your best to sit with your back away from people so they wouldn't be able to see your screen.

What you currently hate is that Seoul is in the same timezone as Tokyo so you can't use the excuse of not joining a work Zoom by saying that it's at an inconvenient time for you.

"So we have pretty much all of the pages done and laid out. Of course, there are a lot of blank pages but we're using them as templates right now. The graphic design team wants to show you how they look." Mina, the team leader in charge of everyone back in Seoul while you're traveling, announces.

"Yeah, sure," You say as you take a sip of your nearly empty coffee. You gave them a vague layout of the ordering of what you want and how some of the pages should look, but you still mostly gave them creative freedom over most of it.

You watch as one of the graphic design artists searches his screen for something, probably looking for the share screen button, before a large black, white, and red image takes over your screen. You're looking at what you assume is the full group version zine, but really it looks like it could be just tour merch. You flip your notebook to a blank page, ready to take notes on what you see.

"Right so, let's start with the group version. You said you wanted to keep the color scheme and theme of the tour running throughout this version so we tried to do that like this..." One of the graphic artists explains.

You nod along, scribbling your notes, and pay attention to what everyone is saying. You're not opposed to team meetings, they can be helpful in trying to get a clear line of communication. But really, this entire meeting could have been an email. You could have viewed what everyone had done so far, emailed them their notes, and gone back to your business. But instead, you have to sit here and actively listen while everyone explains every little detail on the screen.

Your eyes drift to your now empty coffee cup. You got to the cafe about an hour before the meeting so you could get some work done. Normally, you wouldn't work so early but because there is a show later today, you're not going to have much time after to do anything other than prepare. And while you wish so desperately to be able to run off and order another one, you can't exactly leave the meeting you're running. Especially not with your boss sitting quietly in the corner of your screen evaluating you.

"For the member-specific versions, you said you wanted to draw inspiration from their solo stages. So this is what we have going on for Bang Chan ssi." Someone else explains. They probably divided themselves into teams so they could get more done. Must be nice.

Tap.

A full glass of iced coffee appears next to your notebook. You stare at it for a moment, confused because the cafe you're sitting in doesn't have table service. You quickly glance up and are met face to face with a man completely covered in black sweatpants, an oversized plain black t-shirt, a black baseball cap, and a matching black paper face mask. The color in his straight hair has long since faded into an almost ashy color. With the voice of whoever is talking in the meeting right now and the sudden coffee being placed in front of you, you almost don't register that it's Changbin standing in front of you.

"Can I sit here?" He asks quietly, slightly dropping his mask so you can hear him better.

You quietly nod and gesture for him to sit, confused as to why he would even want to. The cafe is relatively empty. The only other people in there are the baristas and an older man reading a newspaper while eating a croissant. There are plenty of other tables for him to sit at.

You rip out a blank piece of paper from your notebook and quickly scribble a 'thank you' and a note saying that you're in a meeting. Changbin reads it and nods like he understands but he doesn't move.

Great.

Changbin quietly sits across from you scrolling through his phone and drinking his iced coffee. Your back hurts from how straight you’re sitting and your neck is starting to get tired from all the nodding you’re doing while listening through each concept. Luckily, they didn't show you every single page, only showing you what they have done so far for each member and a few blank spreads.

"So, what do you think so far?" One of the younger members of the graphics team asks. You don't recognize her. She might be an intern. Then again, it's not your department so you don't know everyone there.

"Overall, I think it's a good starting point. We do have some room for improvement." You say as politely as possible. The last thing you want is a reputation as a micromanaging bitch. Or worse, a foreigner who thinks they know better than everyone else.

"For example?" Mina pushes.

You pick up your notebook and pretend to flip through it, you already know the key points you want to touch on now. "I like the color schemes you've pulled out from the solo numbers. I think we should keep the color scheme the way it is for the concert portions of each version but for the rest of the travel pages maybe we should go with a lighter shade? Especially for Bang Chan and Changbins. It'll be a little easier to lay out the travel pictures and bring a different vibe for that part."

You watch as everyone takes their own notes of what you just said, some nodding along as well.

"Anything else?" Someone mumbles.

"Just one more big thing actually. I noticed that a lot of the pictures used for the concert portions, especially with...Bang Chan, I.N, and Hyunjin, the pictures are a bit more...well not exactly risque but it shows off really one side of their performances. Maybe try to showcase some of their duality when they're performing? Like the pictures of them performing "I Like It" or one of the pictures I took of Felix and Seungmin chasing each other with water bottles. I'll have some more pictures for you to use later if what I sent before wasn't enough." It bugged you when you first saw it. Chan and Jeongin's pages somehow came out more like an ad for a live adult show and you know neither of them would be comfortable with that. You weren't comfortable either and you know that you would have received some backlash over it as well. At the end of the day, it's your name that's going out there.

"We'll fix that as soon as possible. Anything else?" Mina asks once again.

"Nothing major. I'll type out the rest of my list, along with my earlier notes, and send them in an email." Just like this meeting could have been. "Oh, really quickly, whoever's idea it was to give the solo songs their own layout like that, great job!"

A quiet 'thank you' rings in your ear but you can't see who said it.

"Alright. Oh before we go, we did have a request to make." Mina says slowly, a slightly annoyed smile plastered on her face that probably mirrored you. You resist the urge to roll your eyes and instead glance at Changbin who is now watching you with an amused look on his face.

"Yes?"

"Can you ask some of the members to redo their writing? I know you wanted to have a little transcribed section next to the parts that they wrote down their answers but some of it's illegible." She says softly.

"I could but the members are very busy at the moment. Their schedules are pretty packed in every city we're in and I don't want to have to bother them any more than I already am. I'm assuming the writing belongs to either Lee Know, Han, Hyunjin, or..." You glance up one more time and make eye contact with Changbin again. "Changbin."

"You're probably right. I haven't seen the writing myself but it seems like it's about half of them."

"Understandable. They all have rather...unique writing styles. I'll make you a little guide later once I have some time and if that still doesn't help then I'll transcribe them myself. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Please, for the love of God don't.

"No, that's fine. Great meeting everyone. We'll touch back in a few weeks, Y/n ssi."

"Okay." You exhale in relief. You watch as people start to disappear from the meeting. "Ah, bujangnim, I have a question for you in private if you have a moment."

"Yes, Y/n ssi?" Your boss asks, caught by surprise to have finally been acknowledged.

You gain control over the meeting now that Mina left. You make sure to stop the recording before turning your attention back to your boss. You wish you could kick Changbin off from the table but something tells you that if you didn't it would cause another issue.

"I was wondering if you read my email about possibly reassigning some more of my responsibilities to other members of the department?" You speak carefully, watching your tone and choosing each of your words carefully. Your mouth feels like it's filled with cotton all of a sudden. You might choke if you speak too fast. "I don't want to sound ungrateful, I'm glad for all of the opportunities you've given me. It's just that I'm doing so much for this project by myself and there are so many comebacks and debuts happening all at once."

You watch as your boss' lips press together and he leans into his chair. You glance up at Changbin again, embarrassed to have him sitting so close to you during this meeting, but he's back to minding his own business on his phone.

"I did see your email and I was just about to send one back to you." He sits back up in his chair and leans over the table he's sitting at, resting his elbows on it. "Unfortunately, you do your job too well."

"Excuse me?" Reflectively, your head tilts to the side as you try to understand.

"What I mean is, you've created a brand for yourself at the Star. Outside of the scandals that most of the department thrives on, your album reviews, concert reviews, and small articles about up-and-coming idols bring in a lot of foot traffic to the music section. We did outsource some of your projects to interns and other writers in the department and we have people begging for Jeong Ilsung back. In all honesty, I'm regretting letting you go off on that little passion project of yours."

"I-I see," Your voice cracks unintentionally. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself calm, the pain offering a slight distraction from the dull needles hitting the back of your eyes.

"Because you're currently overseas, there's only so much you can do. But I'd like for you to continue with your album reviews. We have some interns doing the other stuff until you get back." He explains cheerfully, trying to really sell the plus side of the Sisyphean mountain of work ahead of you.

"Of course," You can almost feel the skin tighten around your fake smile. You've been wearing it so long today, you might be permanently stuck like that.

"Was there anything else?" He asks, you can almost hear the exhaustion in his voice.

I wonder if that's how I sound?

"No, that will be all. Thank you, bujang--" Your boss leaves the call just before you can finish saying goodbye.

You squeeze your eyes tightly as you tilt your head to the ceiling. You pinch the bridge of your nose and inhale deeply, your head slowly starts to feel like a bubble. Maybe if you hold your breath long enough, everything will stop for a moment. Maybe you'll pass out and you can miss tonight's show. Surely, they don't need you for every single night. Maybe--

"Noona?"

Pop!

You finally exhale and sit upright again. You almost completely forgot that Changbin was still sitting with you. His face is the softest you've seen directed at you the entire time you've known him. He almost looks like the soft, cuddly, sweet man everyone describes him as.

"Right, sorry." You take a sip of your now mostly melted coffee.

"No, it's fine, you were busy." He shifts in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position.

"So," You lean back into your seat and relax your face. No need to wear a smiling mask, Changbin already knows he's your least favorite person and you know that you're his. "What did you need?"

"I just wanted to bring you a coffee and apologize." He gestures at the drink he bought you earlier. "You know, for the thing with your phone."

"What thing with my phone?"

You remember exactly what he's referring to. You'll probably never forget the most hurtful insult you've ever received in your professional career. You just want to hear him admit it.

"You know, when I called you ou--" Changbin stops himself and clears his throat instead. "I mean when I implied that you were recording us."

"You're forgiven. I get it, you don't trust me. It was a simple mistake." You say simply. You sit up and save what you're working on.

"Thank you,"

The silence is awkward between you two. You're waiting for Changbin to be done so you can head back to the hotel and rest before the show. Changbin is...well, like usual, you have no idea what's going on through Changbin's mind.

"Did you have something else you wanted to talk about?" You ask politely as you continue to shut down your laptop.

"I didn't know if you had anything you wanted to say." He says almost innocently as he takes a sip from his cup.

It takes you a little too long to connect the dots in your head to understand what Changbin is implying. Or rather what he's asking for. You let out a loud, scoff in disbelief that comes out more like an evil laugh. You weren't even aware you could make a noise like that. But apparently, if someone pisses you off enough...

"You are absolutely fucking unbelieve..." You mutter under your breath before you turn your complete attention onto Changbin. "If that's how you apologize, then I can tell you several places you and your apology can go. I'm not going to sit here and apologize for something I didn't do."

"So polite," He smirks like he's winning.

"Do you realize how insulting what you accused me of is?" You clap your hands together and keep them there. If you don't you might jump over the table and strangle Changbin. "To put it into perspective, it's as if I accused you of plagiarizing songs from other people. Both are very illegal, by the way. And the most hurtful thing to hear when you know how long and hard you've worked to get where you are with your career."

Changbin's smirk falls off of his face and he back to an unreadable expression. Still, he doesn't offer up a second apology. You look around the cafe to find something, anything to calm yourself. You didn't realize how loud you were getting but the looks from the few other patrons and the staff is enough to let you know how much of a scene you're causing.

You muster all your emotions into one deep sigh and turn back to Changbin. "You don't have to like me, I certainly do not like you right now. But I need you to trust me so I can do my job. And when this is all over, you won't have to see or hear from me ever again."

Still, Changbin stays quiet, only this time, he's having trouble meeting your eyes. Like he might actually feel guilty if he looks you in the eyes. Or maybe you'll turn him to stone.

"Look, I don't know how else to get you to trust me." You safely eject your thumb drive from your laptop and set it on the table. You shut your computer down all the way and shove it into your bag, pulling out both of your completed notebooks to make space. "Here are most of the notes I've taken of you guys so far and here are all of my current drafts. Read them or don't. I don't care. But if you do, you'll see that I really don't mean any harm to you or any of the other kids. I can give you the notebook I'm currently working with after I'm done if you want. Some of my notes are in English so if you need help, just ask Chan or Felix. Now if you'll excuse me."

Exhausted and not wanting to deal with anything else for the next few hours, you toss the strap for your bag over your head and push yourself off the table, leaving Changbin alone in the cafe.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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[ryuki-draws]

How does having only half a brain left affect your survival odds in a Gundam? Time to find out!

N°3 was not meant to ever set foot in Asticassia but I decided she needed to join Geroge and Erik's emo band. I'm sure nothing bad will ever happen to her. (And I just wanted to draw her in a dress. As a treat.)

Rambling under the cut!

Marleen (name assigned by the researchers) has suffered severe epilepsy her whole life and anatomical hemispherectomy - surgery which removes parts of the brain that cause the seizures - was the last resort in effort to make the constant attacks stop. Unfortunately, the surgery was done at Claire's Peil under their enhanced person research program. So the now vacant space in her cranium was fitted with GUND implants and she was basically rolled off the operating table directly into a pilot seat of the company's prototype GUND format MS.

Luckily for her, having half a brain already running on the same format, the implants were able to process the information influx faster to a certain degree, thus making it possible to reach higher permet scores without getting what's left of her organic brain fried immediately. It is, however, not a solution to the overall problem - while the extra implants provide some added resistance, the data storm would still eventually kill her, even though it may take longer than previous subjects were able to withstand (RIP N°1 and 2). Plus, with her condition, permet score 3 and higher come with a risk of seizures unexpectedly returning while piloting, which opens a whole new can of problems.

When the duelling game started, she wasn't deemed suitable for a body double candidate and this ordeal was assigned to N°4 instead. She was, however, dispatched to school alongside him as a second year piloting student with a cover story of being a "test pilot" for Peil Technologies with clearance to participate in duels in non-GUND MS, unless instructed otherwise.

Additional assorted stuff (mostly EPs lore because I'm Unwell™)

the whole AU shenanigans primarly take place one year prior to the events of WfM, hence students with "K" designation in their ID number being second year, as opposed to third in the series

the duelling game started with the year of Miorine's admission to Asticassia, and with it the need for an EP body double to participate in the duels instead of Elan (who's a terrible pilot and would not be caught dead in a Gundam himself). There were three prior EPs at the research facility but N°4 was the first one who on top of everything has become a body double

when EPs outlive their usefulness to the company, they're sent back to the research facility, where they're further used as test subjects, as they may "still have research data worth obtaining in them." Deemed as truly expendable, they're first in line for anything too dangerous or unethical, but are not outright executed (no, I'm not over ep. 6, thanks for asking)

as mentioned in my previous posts, inspiration for Marleen's creation was Siri Keeton from the novel Blindsight by Peter Watts - who also had half of his brain removed due to seizures and replaced with implants - thus, the shared last name (the book is great, go read it. it's a sci-fi thriller and it has vampires in space! there's also a fan-made short film (4 minutes) based on the book worth giving a watch. this post is now Blindsight propaganda)

[the-possum-writes]

[Day 7] Hate sex

Character: Scarab Tags: NSF/W, Coworkers, Hate sex, Unprotected sex, AFAB reader, Dominant Scarab, Choking, Dirty talk. Word count: 2188 Synopsis: No one in the company can stand Scarab's uptight personality, except for you. During a particular mission he strives to find out why you stay alongside him but ends up saying more than he intended. A/n: Sorry this one took longer to upload, became a bit longer than expected.

Five minutes for yourself, it's all you ask for. But it appears that you can't have that as long as you're Scarab's companion. You assume it's due to your exceptional skill that can match his, or  because you are the only one in the company who is less likely to try and kill him during a mission, either way you were the unfortunate one who was always partnered up with him. It's no secret that Scarab isn't popular at work due to his uptight attitude and the fact that he calls out at his coworkers for the most trivial of reasons while everyone just vibes together, so the fact that you can keep him from getting under your skin is a skill of itself. There's also a part of you that finds him attractive, but it doesn't override your frustration with his attitude. Yet.

He taps your feet off your desk with the tip of his walking stick and says, "We have an assignment, let's get moving."

You resist the urge to groan in annoyance. "We just got back from a previous mission, how about we take a quick break before heading out again?"

"Every second we're not capturing that criminal is a second they use to escape." He sharply reminds you in a condescending tone that he uses with practically everyone, and it appears that he won't be leaving you alone anytime soon, so you called it quits and rose up from your desk. 

"Let's get this over with."

It's your typical mission, where you and Scarab have to find a wanted criminal. Usually, Scarab will approach the culprit in disguise, and you will remain close by to stop them from getting away. You stay in your designated location, ready for anything, but when it came time to confront the criminal breaking through the windows above you, you met with a familiar face.

"Gregalon?" you ask in a confused voice, lowering your weapon at the sight of your former co-worker. He gasps at the sight of you as well, almost tempted to ask what you're doing here if it wasn't because he connected the dots himself, this was no time for friendly reunions. With a downward strike, Scarab lands on Gregalon, piercing his walking cane dangerously near his heart.

"Scarab stop!"

The look scarab gave you from underneath the bandages of his disguise was one that he took offence. "You're not one to make orders, may I remind you I'm you superior?"

"I have not forgotten. But we started in the same place, right? or did you forget how Gregalon would help us learn the ropes in our first few days? or how he'd always offer us pudding and cover for us when we needed a break?" you try to reason.

"He's a criminal now, he deserted from his post." His tone is cold, in stark contrast to your ferocious rage. 

"Cause he hasn't had a single vacation in a millennia! None of us have."  you raise your voice at him as if that were to get him to understand but apparently it's impossible with that thick exo-mask of his. "Can't you just cut him some slack?"

Scarab does not answer verbally, instead burrowing his spear deeper into the pavement, eliciting a painful cry from Greg as he effectively pins him to the ground as he walks calmly up to your face. "Do you want me to let him go? Because that would make you an accomplice to a crime, and I'd hate to turn in my partner." He pretends concerned, but you know it's all for show, especially with the faux caress your cheek with his index finger, preventing a response from you.

"I'm not asking you to let him go, I'm suggesting we capture him in a non-lethal manner." you stood your ground, there's still anger behind your tone but you try and keep it in check.

Just as you're having your conversation with Scrab, from behind him you see Gregalon remove the spear from his chest even if it meant gushing blood all over the place, you predicted his escape attempt and how Scarab was ready to deal the final blow- but before any of them could succeed you act on your own and flash your own weapon at him, but rather than kill him the flash encased Greg in an egg shaped crystal that reduced him to a pixelated sprite. As you fetch the glass egg from the ground you can already tell Scarab is right behind you, roughly grabbing you by the wrist before you could safely pocket the egg into your belt. "And what do you think you're doing?" his question is sharp, almost as his weapon.

"I'm securing our target without needlessly spill blood."

"You're not in position to make that decision, you respond to me." he just loves reminding you of his higher position even though you're not that too under him.

"Oh please, we both know the only reason you were assigned to this position is because no one can stand your ass back the headquarters, and I'm just here to babysit you because someone has to fill the reports without covering mistakes with whiteout." you scoff with a brief laugh, removing your wrist from his hold as you prepare your leave. "So if you have an issue with how i want to capture criminals we can discuss it with our manager. and let them decide-"

At first you believe that was enough to shut him up, but it was just wishful thinking. He pulled his weapon from the ground as he spoke. "I don't need your help. Hah, why... you can't even beat me in a fight." he challenges you.

This stops you in your tracks, slowly turning around to withdraw your weapon. "You sure about that, Scabby...?"

To any onlooker this would look like a fight to the death with how ruthless Scarab attacked you with the variety of shapes his walking cane would take, some would be a blade and other times it would be a laser but no matter what he threw your way he did so without holding back and neither did you, your fighting style was more on the melee side- with your weapon shapeshifting into weaponry you would use to power roundhouse kicks, punches and uppercuts he could full replicate with his own fighting style. But there was something thrilling about the whole thing, how he would grunt and curse whenever you landed a hit on him as well as the dubious whines he'd draw from you when his blade would make contact with your skin because you left yourself open, there was even a point where a droplet of your blood landed on his face and there was a 'blink and you'll miss it moment' where he lapped at it with his tongue.

"Getting tired yet?" you taunt, the duel leading the two of you into an abandoned factory of sorts.

"Was gonna ask you the same thing."

If there's one thing he has an advantage over you it's how, despite how stronger your punches are, they exhaust you faster. So it's in your best interest to end this soon or at least call a stalemate, but even if you managed to separate Scarab away from his main weapon he's still fast enough to keep up with you, so the second he trips backwards due to not paying attention to his surroundings you acted on impulse and straddle his hips landing punch after punch on the mask on his face even it it left your hands bloodied and didn't make a single dent on him. But you kept pressing on, even as he started laughing.

"While you try and continue with your futile attempts to break my mask, how about you indulge me a bit. Tell me, if I'm so unlikeable then why didn't you ask for a transfer?"

The question felt like it came out of left field, but you weren't gonna give him the satisfaction of knowing your true feelings. "Wouldn't you like to know? My momma didn't raise a quitter, besides I wouldn't have gotten the chance to beat your ass like i am doing now."

Scarab growls in annoyance, either because you're plummeting his face or because he didn't find your answer was satisfactory. He seized both of your wrists and rolled you to the side, toppling you. "Do not lie to me. You've stayed with me far too long for this to be a whim." there was something odd with the way he was responding to you now, but you tried to not let it change your taunting attitude.

"What do you want me to say Scarab? that I actually like being with you? hah! it would do wonders for your ego wouldn't it."

He responds by grabbing you by the neck and restricting your breathing, you struggle with him but he tightens his hold on your wrists with his single hand. It is then that you see him do something he doesn't usually do, he reveals his real face to you only so he could taunt you with the smirk on his sharp teeth and his pincers. "I don't need you to tell me, I can simply tell just by looking at you... and smelling you." he lowers himself to the side of your face, you pause on your struggling as you freeze at his words. "You reek of pheromones, not to mention the humidity down here." to prove his point he raises his knee to your crotch and you jump in surprise as you become painfully aware of the slick smearing onto your underwear, eliciting an embarrassingly audible moan from you.

"...and yet you don't look disgusted." you respond, now understanding why he wants to hear a confession from you.

You lick the side of his exposed face which has him shriek at the sudden feeling, taking the opportunity to over power him by pull his arms behind him, forcing him to lay stomach down against the ground and keeping him in place by pressing you knee to the middle of his back. "You could've done the same and order a replacement, but you never did. Is there something you wanna tell me Scabby?"

The two of you go back and forth with this for a while, one physically attempting to overpower the other in hopes of gaining a confession all the while there's blatant grinding and groping that only further spurs the two of you with a sexual tension so thick you could cut it with a butter knife. It all reaches a final point when Scarab bends you over a crate and licks the blood dripping from your bloodied nose onto your lips but not outright kissing you, instead his hands roam your body from behind as he confesses what you were dying to hear. "You're a nuisance, a scheming little harlot. With the way you'd lean on someone's else's desk as you flirted with them, You have no idea how many times I've considered dragging you to the nearest utility closet and fuck you right then and there, not even giving you the time to clean up so you'd have no choice but to walk around with my cum sliding down your thighs." Scarab's voice was now a lower tone that was almost feral, it led you to realize how badly you want him, maybe as much as he wants you.

It cathartic to hear him admit his attraction to you, how you've unconsciously been driving him mad without actively trying. He always portrays himself to be so above everyone else

"You don't have the guts." you snap back, even if it probably makes you look like a brat. "That would go against company policy, and you're too tight up to break the rules." you almost wanted to laugh with how he immediately shut up, proving you right.

"Then I'll fuck you right here, and let you walk back with shaky legs and covered in my scent."

The combination of his appealing voice and vulgar language was driving you nuts. "Less talk, more action," you told him, which prompted him to turn you onto your back and yank the bottom half of your suit, your slick glistening in the dim light as he slipped your underwear, revealing your drenched pussy. Scarab positioned himself above you with one hand and used the other to shove his cock into your eager insides while grabbing at him. He repeatedly but gradually drove himself into you until you accommodated him and the base of his carapace made contact with the pubic hair of your intimate area, allowing him to ravish you with the same brutal strength he used to fight you. His growls, along with your mewls and the loud squelching of your cunt, burned into your ears causing you to cum fast and hard, but that didn't stop Scarab from pistoning into you again, this time playing with your already sensitive clit. "I expected more from you, especially given how long you've fought me," he chuckles, raising your legs higher, essentially placing them on his big shoulders.

"Just give me five minutes-" you pant heavily, you're a bit tired but you still have some fight in you, that's why you were partnered with him in the first place.

[auliisflower]

TAKE ALL THE LOVE

you’ll be safe in my romance, babe

JANIS IMI’IKE X GN!READER

so this isn’t even a request but i fucking love this song (also i’m writing this instead of studying for my exams but its wtvr)

Y/n had never really been interested in getting in to a relationship. Well, not until her.

Janis Imi’ike

Oh god. Y/n could talk about her for days on end. How she would ink little drawings on her hands when she got bored in History class. Or even the little stickers of eyes and random doodles she had in her locker.

She was something else. And Y/n was intrigued, to a point that even their friends had noticed something different about them. Because how could you not notice someone like her? Janis was smart, funny, incredibly gorgeous, talented, artsy, did she mention gorgeous?

Y/n wasn’t technically a nobody at school. They were a part of the debate club, the book club, Hell, they were even a class representative in the student council. But the feeling that they couldn’t shake off was why did they feel like Janis was the only one who didn’t know they existed at school?

Y/n was pining, hard. Which is weird because they haven’t even made a move on Janis yet. “This is so stupid” Y/n thought.

Fuck it.

Highschool will eventually end anyway, what’s the harm in trying to hit up your hot crush? Y/n decided that they’ll introduce themselves to Janis tomorrow. A bold moment for them, surprisingly. But you gotta work for what you want, right?

Doomsday had already come too soon, Y/n strutted into school heading straight for homeroom to wait for lunch. Y/n and Janis had only ever shared two classes. History and Art. Well today, unfortunately, they had no classes together. So lunch it is.

As soon as the bell rang students flooded the hallways to go to the cafeteria. “Are we really doing this?” Y/n thought, “Yes, stupid. Don’t be a wuss” they argued with themselves as their hands fiddled with their headphone wires.

The cafeteria was packed with students, as per usual. Y/n heard their name being called over at the designated “model student table” which was a bunch of crappy, rich douchebags who only ever got as far as their daddy’s money would take them.

“Hey, Keira” Y/n greeted the Student Council President. Keira nodded in response, “So I was wondering if you could come over to my house after school today?” She questioned Y/n. “I just need some help with that annoying Calculus assignment Mrs. Norbury gave us.” She continued when Y/n hadn’t uttered a word in response.

“Oh.” Y/n squeaked out. “Sure.” They replied shortly, not wanting to waste anytime on talking with someone who only wanted them for their brains.

“Thanks love!” Keira winked at Y/n who uncomfortably shuffled around on their feet. Y/n nodded back to Keira as to end their conversation.

Do you ever get that feeling where you know someone’s watching you but you can’t pinpoint who? Yeah, that’s what Y/n was feeling as their conversation with Keira Oliver ended.

Y/n glanced around the cafeteria full of hungry teens and their eyes landed on the “Art Freaks Table”

Janis.

Y/n’s eyes locked with her big brown eyes for a second before she hurriedly looked over to Damian who she was sitting with. Janis laughed awkwardly and Damian stared at her weird.

Huh.

Cute.

Y/n walked over to their table and stood infront of Janis. Was she blushing? Or was the room just crowded?

“Hi!” Y/n grinned at her. “Oh, um-“ Janis muttered out. “Janis, right?” Y/n continued, smiling sweetly at the shorter girl. Y/n could hear someone clear their throat and immediately greeted Damian. “And Damian, hello.”

“Hi, Y/n, what brings you to the art freaks? What’s a goody-two-shoes like you doing here?” Janis finally got her act together, putting up a cold façade because there’s no way this perfect of a person would come up to her without malicious intent.

Damian shot Janis a “I like them, don’t be rude” look. Y/n cleared their throat and answered “Nothing much, I just wanted to say I really liked your art piece at the convention last Friday night!” Y/n grinned at her.

“Oh. Well, um, thank you!” Janis blushed at the them. Damn they was even prettier up close. “Well, I was wondering if you could maybe help me out with a piece I was doing for our art class. I know you’re the best in art, so I figured you were the right person to ask” Y/n laughed nervously

“Shit, shit, shit, oh my fucking god” they thought internally.

“Oh that thing where we have to do a portrait of self reflection? I’m totally down!” Janis replied to Y/n, her cheeks reddening at how Y/n’s eyes lit up at the response.

“Oh really? Cool! So, um, I’ll just see you after school? Is that okay?” Y/n asked carefully.

“Absolutely! I’ll see you soon, Y/n” Janis grinned up at them. God they were so cute. Y/n smiled sheepishly and replied “Thanks, Janis” carefully brushing their hand lightly against Janis’ on the lunch table.

As they walked away, Janis let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. “So you and that hottie, huh?” Damian giggled at her.

“Dude, shut up!” Janis smacked him lightly on the shoulder.

Keep me guessing but don’t keep me waiting for us.

(Hello gays so there will be a part two to this so don’t worry guys!!!! I just have like no motivation rn but I swear I’m trying my best forgive me rn plz)

[swaps55]

Hi! Sorry if you have already answered this somewhere, I love reading about your writing process for Opus and was wondering if you would talk about how you pick and choose which missions to assign Sam and Kaidan, like Kaidan taking on the Project Overlord mission? Also, lol, will Sam ever have the misfortune of driving a Hammerhead and how much would he hate it?

Hahahahaha, Sam would hate the Hammerhead so much. I will probably spare him that displeasure, given how much else he has to deal with.

This is such an awesome question; thank you so much for asking it, and I am so sorry this answer is probably far more involved than you were looking for.

Stories like Cantata, Fugue, and Kaidan's portion of Mezzo necessitated missions that weren't main plot for the trilogy. But since the codex is so rich and there are so many side missions across the three games, I made it an unwritten rule that I wouldn't make up a mission from thin air if I could help it. Instead I'd pull something from canon and twist it into a new shape. That put less pressure on me to invent something from scratch, and it meant fun Easter eggs for the reader.

This has taken different shapes. In Cantata, the mission where Sam experiences a blood sugar crash in mid-combat was going to be heavy on action, which meant a fairly elaborate "combat chess board." Designing a visual setting is one of my big weaknesses as a writer, so I set it on Benning because I could then use the ME3MP map as a template to craft the rest of the mission around.

The underwater mission Sam does on Proteus is what it is because the codex states that combat diving is part of the N program. I thought that was cool, and while perusing planets in the codex, the description for Proteus included an underwater colony. "Great!" I said to myself. "What if I broke it?"

Virtually every place the Yang Gang visits in Cantata is pulled straight from canon, as well as what they find there. It's something I'm pretty proud of.

(The big exception is the thresher maw on Sharjilla, which is pure artistic liberty, but I am beyond delighted that people have played that mission expecting to find one because of Cantata. At one point I had planned a really great joke where Sam nukes the thresher maw from orbit out of pure spite, so when they come back to Sharjila in ME1 and Kaidan mentions threshers, someone could go, "wait, there's thresher maws down there?!" and Sam would growl under his breath, "not anymore." But I couldn't fit it into Cantata, lol.)

As for all the side missions I've woven in, they provide a neat opportunity to spread the love. They are Shepard's responsibility in the games because Shepard is the player character, so the entire world revolves around them. In fic, I don't have that constraint, so I am free to take missions that have some good narrative potential and give them to other characters.

Side quests like Bring Down the Sky don't offer much to the canon plot, but for Opus it provided an opportunity for some pretty sharp character development while also advancing my reimagined plans for ME3.

In the case of Overlord, I loved the complexity it would add to something like Horizon: if Kaidan got a first hand glimpse at the terrible things Cerberus does right before discovering Shepard on Horizon, suddenly his distrust and anger take on new meaning.

Kasumi became Kaidan's partner in crime because the cast of ME2 is so dense that I went looking for ways to weed down the cast without having to just leave people out or inflict mass casualties. Kasumi's skillset as a thief never made sense to me for something like the suicide mission, but Kasumi herself is a delight. And like Kaidan, she has experienced the death of a partner. They seemed like such a natural fit for each other, and Keiji's role as a double agent with the Alliance also worked narratively in my favor: I got to use him to answer questions like, "how the hell does Cerberus get their hands on the Normandy design docs?"

Fugue also incorporates a few ME2 side missions that, again, just dovetailed nicely into what I was trying to do. Superimposing Keiji over the Cerberus agent in N7: Lost Operative just worked well for what I wanted to do, and N7: Imminent Ship Crash gave me a good segue into it, while also giving me the chance to explore how Kara and Aslany dealt with the loss of the 'Yang.

So how I choose what missions I use comes down to what I need for the story. I have a vague idea of what I need to accomplish, then look for a side mission or DLC that can help me get there. The Hammerhead DLC missions are utterly terrible to play, but there is just enough of an interesting story to them that I was able to weave something useful to future Opus plans while also letting Kaidan grow into his role as a leader.

The DLC and side missions are really fun to work with, and one of my favorite parts of Opus, even if I almost went bald tearing my hear out over N7: Imminent Ship Crash. XD