#Hack Drift Boss

[lila-lou]

✨Yes, Sheriff - 1/2✨

Summary: Your new boss, Sheriff Beau Arlen, is infuriating—gruff, stubborn, and way too handsome for your sanity. You came to Montana for peace, not sparks. But trouble’s brewing, and so is something between you two.

Pairing: Beau x Reader

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 3966

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

You hadn’t thought it would happen like this. Not the dream job, not the big office with the sheriff’s star on the door, and sure as hell not the man sitting behind that desk, staring at you like you’d just told him he had to work Sundays.

“You´re my Assistant?”, he drawled, leaning back in his chair, boots planted on the desk like he owned the place—and, honestly, he kinda did. “Thought I asked for someone with experience. Someone… I don’t know… older? Didn’t think I was signin’ up for a babysitter situation”.

His voice had that slow, easy twang that made everything sound halfway to a joke, but the way he looked at you? Yeah, he wasn’t joking. His green eyes scanned you—head to toe, toe to head—like he was trying to figure out if you’d walked into the wrong damn office.

“I graduated top of my class”, you said, your voice steady even though your heart was racing. “And I’m here to help. Whether you think I can or not”.

He raised an eyebrow, dropping his boots from the desk with a heavy thud. “Well, ain’t you somethin’. All bright-eyed and ready to save the world”. He stood, and damn, he was taller than he looked sitting down. Broad-shouldered, that soft cotton button-up hugging him just right, sleeves rolled up to show strong forearms.

Focus. You had to focus.

“I’m Sheriff Beau Arlen”, he said, voice dripping with that Texan warmth that somehow still managed to sound like a warning. “And here’s the thing, darlin’. This ain’t some paper-pushin’ job. You’re here to keep up, not slow me down. Can you do that?”.

Your jaw tightened. “I can handle it”.

“Good”, he said, though his smirk told you he didn’t quite believe it yet. “Follow me”.

He grabbed a stack of files from his desk, brushed past you, and headed for the door without so much as a glance back. You barely had time to adjust your grip on the folder in your hands before hurrying after him, your heels clicking against the linoleum floor.

As you followed him out into the main office, his voice drifted back toward you. “Let’s hope you last longer than the last one. Poor kid couldn’t hack it, and I’ll be honest, you don’t exactly scream resilient”.

“Maybe I’ll surprise you”, you shot back, a little sharper than you intended.

He stopped, turning halfway to glance at you over his shoulder, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Guess we’ll find out. But fair warnin’, I don’t go easy, and I sure as hell don’t babysit”.

With that, he pushed through the doors into the bullpen, leaving you standing there with a mix of irritation and determination bubbling up inside. It wasn’t the warm welcome you’d hoped for, but you hadn’t come here to be coddled. You came to prove yourself—and to him, of all people, you planned to do just that.

One way or another.

The station was bustling—phones ringing, officers shuffling paperwork, and the low hum of chatter filling the air. Sheriff Arlen walked ahead of you, weaving through the chaos with a practiced ease, while you did your best to keep up, clutching the folder in your hands like a lifeline.

“This here’s the bullpen”, he drawled, gesturing with a wide sweep of his arm. “Where the magic happens—or at least where we pretend it does”.

You nodded, taking in the cluttered desks, the overworked staff, and the faint smell of burnt coffee. A few officers glanced your way, their eyes flicking from you to Beau, some with raised brows, others with knowing smirks.

“This is Y/N”, Beau announced, his voice carrying over the noise. “She’s my new assistant. She’ll be stickin’ around—long as she doesn’t run for the hills after her first day”.

A stocky man near the coffee machine chuckled. “Guess the Sheriff’s finally got himself some help. You gonna let her do all the paperwork you keep ‘forgettin’ about?”.

Beau shot him a look. “Don’t you have somethin’ better to do, Hank? Like, I don’t know, your job?”.

Hank just grinned, raising his mug in mock salute before retreating to his desk.

Beau continued, stopping briefly to introduce you to a few more faces. There was Denise, the station’s receptionist, who gave you a warm smile and a whispered, “Good luck”, and Officer Turner, who nodded curtly before going back to his phone call.

The introductions blurred together as Beau kept moving, his long strides forcing you to quicken your pace. The steady click, click, click of your heels echoed off the walls, sharp against the backdrop of the station’s noise.

Beau slowed down suddenly, turning his head to glance at your shoes. His expression shifted to something between amusement and exasperation. “Y’know”, he said, his drawl dripping with that infuriating mix of charm and condescension, “those heels of yours are gonna drive me insane”.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What’s wrong with my heels?”.

He stopped in his tracks, turning to face you fully. “They’re loud, for one. Sound like you’re tryin’ to tap dance through a crime scene. And two? They’re not exactly practical for runnin’ after bad guys—or runnin’ from ‘em, for that matter”.

You straightened, refusing to let him rattle you. “I wasn’t planning on chasing anyone today. And besides, they’re professional”.

“Sure, they’re professional”, he said, nodding slowly. “But they’re also gonna get you left behind if you don’t keep up”.

Before you could argue, he pointed a finger at you, his tone firm but not unkind. “Tomorrow, no heels. Flats, sneakers, boots—I don’t care. Just somethin’ that doesn’t make me wanna pull my hair out every time you take a step”.

You stared at him, half tempted to argue, but something about the way he looked at you—steady, challenging—made you bite your tongue. “Fine”, you said, keeping your voice steady. “No heels”.

“Good”, he said, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Now come on. We’re burnin’ daylight”.

He turned and walked off again, leaving you to follow, the click of your heels louder than ever in your ears. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to scream or laugh—or both.

By the time the clock struck five, you were done—mentally, physically, and emotionally. Your first day had been a whirlwind of tasks, introductions, and the steady hum of Sheriff Beau Arlen’s Texas-twanged commands. All you wanted was to go home, sink into your couch, and enjoy the calm Montana air you’d moved here for.

California had been too loud, too fast, too… much. You’d craved peace, a slower pace, and a job where you could actually feel like you were making a difference. So, when the sheriff’s office had posted an opening for an assistant, you jumped at the chance. You hadn’t expected to land it. And you definitely hadn’t expected him.

Beau Arlen wasn’t exactly what you’d call calm. He was loud, sharp, and constantly moving, like stillness might kill him. You’d barely had a moment to catch your breath all day, and you were certain he liked it that way.

You grabbed your bag, ready to escape, when his familiar drawl stopped you in your tracks.

“Hey”.

You turned, finding him leaning casually against the doorway of your desk, arms crossed and a curious glint in his hazel eyes. His sleeves were still rolled up, his shirt slightly rumpled from a long day, but he looked as fresh as ever. “You hungry?”, he asked, tilting his head slightly.

The question caught you off guard. “What?”.

“Hungry”, he repeated, his voice slower this time. “Figured since you didn’t quit on your first day, I’d take you to dinner. Call it a welcome or… I don’t know, a ‘get to know each other so I don’t drive you crazy’ thing”.

You blinked. “Are you serious?”.

“Dead serious, darlin’”, he said, smirking. “Unless you’re busy”.

You hesitated. You weren’t busy, but you also hadn’t expected this. Then again, getting to know your boss probably wasn’t the worst idea. And maybe, just maybe, you were curious about him. “Alright”, you said, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Why not?”.

“Good answer”, He straightened, already heading toward the door. “There’s a diner not far from here. Best chicken-fried steak you’ll ever have. Trust me”.

The diner was a tiny place tucked off the highway, with a flickering neon sign and a cozy interior that smelled like fried food and fresh coffee. It was the kind of place you’d hoped Montana would have—simple, welcoming, and a far cry from the glitzy chaos of California.

Beau slid into a booth by the window, and you followed, glancing around as a waitress approached. She greeted him like they were old friends, calling him “Sheriff” with a teasing grin.

“Your usual?”, she asked, pulling out her notepad.

“You know it, Lisa”, he said before nodding toward you. “And get her whatever she wants. First day survived, so she’s earned it”.

Lisa raised an eyebrow at you, smirking. “Survived, huh? That bad already?”.

You smiled. “I’m still here, so I’ll call it a win”.

Lisa chuckled, scribbling down your order before disappearing toward the kitchen.

“So”, Beau said, leaning back against the booth and folding his arms across his chest. “What made you pack up and leave sunny California for Montana?”.

You hesitated, toying with the corner of your napkin. “I guess I just needed a change. It’s… loud out there. Fast. Everyone’s always rushing somewhere, but no one really knows why. It’s exhausting”.

He nodded, his gaze steady. “Yeah, I get that. Montana’s got its fair share of problems, but at least it’s quiet”.

“Exactly”, you said, relaxing a little. “I wanted quiet. A job that matters. Something real, you know?”.

“Sure do”, he said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Though you might’ve picked the wrong sheriff’s office if you’re lookin’ for peace and quiet. We’re small, but we get our fair share of crazy”.

You smirked. “Good thing I’m not scared of a little crazy”.

He laughed, low and warm. “Well, we’ll see about that”.

Dinner was unexpectedly easy. Beau, for all his gruffness, had a way of making conversation flow, peppering you with questions about your favorite movies, your worst job experiences, and what you thought of Montana so far. He shared a few stories of his own—mostly funny ones about small-town life—and by the time your plates were cleared, you found yourself laughing more than you had in weeks.

As you stepped outside, the crisp Montana air brushing against your skin, Beau walked you to your car. He leaned against his truck, his hands shoved in his pockets, and looked at you with that same steady gaze he’d had all day.

“You did good today”, he said, his voice softer than usual. “And for what it’s worth, I think Montana suits you”.

“Thanks”, you said, smiling. “Though you’ll probably change your mind tomorrow”.

He chuckled. “Maybe. But don’t think you’re off the hook for those heels. I wasn’t kiddin’—no more of that tap-dancin’ nonsense”.

You rolled your eyes, climbing into your car. “Fine. No heels”.

“Good”, he said, tipping an imaginary hat. “See you bright and early, darlin’”.

As you drove home, the quiet roads stretching out before you, you realized something surprising: for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

The next morning, you arrived at the sheriff’s office ten minutes early, a pair of sturdy boots replacing the heels Beau had so pointedly banned. The station was already buzzing with activity, and Beau was nowhere in sight.

Denise, the receptionist, gave you a knowing smile as you passed. “Good call on the shoes”, she said. “Beau’s got a thing about heels. Says they’re impractical for ‘real work’”.

You chuckled, dropping your bag onto your desk. “Yeah, I got that impression”.

“Don’t let him get to you”, she added, leaning forward conspiratorially. “He’s gruff, but he’s got a good heart. You’ll see”.

You were still processing her words when Beau strode into the bullpen, a fresh coffee in hand and his usual air of controlled chaos. His eyes flicked to your boots as he passed, and he gave a slight nod of approval. “Good choice”, he said, his tone casual.

“Glad I could meet your footwear standards”, you shot back, earning a faint smirk.

“Careful”, he said, pointing at you with his coffee cup. “That sass might get you in trouble”.

You were about to respond when he dropped a thick folder onto your desk. “You’re with me today”, he said.

“Excuse me?”.

“Ride-along”, he explained, already walking away. “Can’t have you stuck in the office all day if you’re gonna get the hang of things. Grab your coat”.

The day started slow, with Beau driving you around town in the department’s SUV, pointing out key landmarks and rattling off names of people you’d need to know. It wasn’t long before you noticed how different he was outside the office.

The sharp edges of his sarcasm softened as he spoke about the town, his voice filled with an unexpected warmth when he mentioned the local bar or the family that owned the hardware store. He waved at nearly everyone you passed, his easy charm slipping into something more genuine.

“You seem to know everyone”, you said, watching him nod at an older man crossing the street.

“Small town”, he replied. “You stick around long enough, people start feelin’ like family. For better or worse”.

“And how long have you been here?”.

“Not long enough”, he said, his smile faltering for just a moment before he glanced at you. “But long enough to know the ropes”.

You didn’t press further, sensing there was more to his answer than he was letting on.

The first call came just before lunch—a minor car accident on the edge of town. Beau handled it with practiced ease, his calm demeanor putting the shaken drivers at ease as he filled out the report. You mostly observed, scribbling notes and trying not to get in the way.

By the time you returned to the station, you felt like you were starting to get the hang of things. At least, until Beau handed you another stack of paperwork.

“Here”, he said, dropping the files onto your desk. “Figured I’d ease you into the fun stuff”.

“Paperwork?”, you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’d be surprised how much of this job is just writin’ things down”, he said, leaning against the edge of your desk. “But hey, at least you’re not chasin’ cows outta the road”.

You shot him a look, and he chuckled, pushing off the desk.

“Keep up the good work, darlin’”, he said before walking away.

That evening, as you finally left the station, you were greeted by the glow of the setting sun casting long shadows across the parking lot. You’d survived your second day, and despite the exhaustion settling in your bones, you felt a strange sense of accomplishment.

Beau was leaning against his truck, his phone in hand. He glanced up as you approached, his expression softening slightly.

“Good day?”, he asked.

“Not bad”, you replied, stopping a few feet away.

“Still think Montana’s calm?”.

You smiled. “Compared to California? Definitely”.

“Get some rest”, he said. “Tomorrow’s gonna be busier”.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Of course it is”.

As you climbed into your car and drove home, the image of Beau leaning against his truck lingered in your mind. He was gruff and opinionated, sure, but there was something else beneath all that—a quiet sincerity that made you want to stick around just to figure him out.

Montana was calm, yes. But Beau Arlen? He was anything but.

And you couldn’t help but feel like that was exactly what you needed.

Eight weeks had passed, and to your surprise, you’d settled into the job—and the town—like you’d been here forever. The pace, the people, the little quirks of small-town life all felt like a breath of fresh air compared to the chaos you’d left behind in California.

The sheriff’s office, with its constant hum of activity, had become your second home. And then, of course, there was Beau.

Being by his side for hours every day, riding along on calls, and navigating the unpredictable rhythm of his work had a way of breaking down walls. You’d come to know the little things: the way he hummed under his breath when he was deep in thought, his sharp wit, his steady calm in the face of chaos.

You liked him. Too much.

It had snuck up on you, the way Montana itself had. Slow and unassuming, until one day you woke up and realized you were in deep—your thoughts drifting to him more often than they should, your pulse quickening at the sound of his drawl.

This morning had been no different. You’d swung by the coffee shop on your way in, grabbing his favorite black coffee and your own usual. Maybe it was a bribe for his good mood; maybe it was just an excuse to see him smile. Either way, you stepped into the office with both cups in hand, ready to start the day.

But when you opened his door, you froze.

Jenny Hoyt was there, leaning casually against his desk, her posture relaxed but too close for comfort. Beau stood opposite her, towering over her like he always did, that damn half-smirk playing on his lips. The kind of smirk he used when he was charming someone, effortlessly drawing them in.

You couldn’t hear their words, but the energy in the room was palpable—easy, comfortable, familiar. The way Jenny tilted her head, her hair catching the light, the way Beau’s arm rested just a little too casually on the desk beside her.

They looked like they were flirting.

A knot formed in your stomach, tightening with every second you stood there. You didn’t mean to linger, but your feet wouldn’t move. It wasn’t jealousy—not exactly. It was more like a reminder of how much space you didn’t occupy in his life.

Beau glanced up first, his eyes flicking to you as his expression shifted. For a second, it was unreadable—then his smirk faded, replaced by something softer.

“Hey”, he said, straightening up slightly. “Didn’t hear you come in”.

Jenny turned, her eyes landing on you. She smiled, easy and confident. “Morning, Y/N. Grabbing Beau’s coffee again? He’s got you well-trained”.

You forced a smile, ignoring the jab. “Just trying to keep the Sheriff running”.

Your tone was light, but you didn’t miss the way Beau’s gaze lingered on you as you stepped forward, setting his coffee on the desk. “I’ll leave you two to it”, you said quickly, turning on your heel before either of them could respond.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. You threw yourself into your work, refusing to think about what you’d walked in on—or why it bothered you so much. Beau had every right to talk to Jenny, to laugh with her, to… flirt with her, if that’s what he’d been doing.

Still, every time you saw him, a flicker of frustration bubbled up. And by lunchtime, it must have shown, because Beau cornered you in the bullpen, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Alright”, he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against your desk. “What’s got you in a mood today?”.

You glanced up from your paperwork, trying to feign nonchalance. “I’m not in a mood”.

“Sure you are”, he said, smirking just enough to be irritating. “You’ve been snappin’ at Turner all morning, and you didn’t even roll your eyes at Hank’s terrible joke earlier. Somethin’s up”.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “It’s nothing, Beau. Just tired, that’s all”.

His eyes narrowed slightly, like he didn’t quite believe you, but he let it go. For now. “Well”, he said, straightening up. “If it’s ‘nothing’, maybe you’ll feel better after lunch. Ruby’s?”.

The offer caught you off guard. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to grab lunch together, but today it felt… different.

“I’ve got some things to finish up”, you lied, avoiding his gaze.

Beau’s smirk faded, replaced by something quieter. “Alright”, he said after a moment. “Suit yourself”.

He turned and walked away, and you couldn’t help but watch him go, the knot in your stomach twisting tighter.

By the time the day ended, you felt drained in a way you hadn’t since your first week on the job. You packed up quickly, hoping to slip out before Beau could catch you. But as you stepped into the parking lot, you found him leaning against your car, his arms crossed and an unreadable expression on his face.

“We’re talkin’”, he said simply.

“About what?”, you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

“About whatever’s crawled up and stuck with you all day”, he replied, his hazel eyes fixed on you. “You’re not yourself, and I’m not leavin’ till I figure out why”.

For a moment, you considered brushing him off. But the sincerity in his tone, the way he stood there like he wasn’t going to let you run this time, made it impossible. “It’s nothing, Beau”, you said quietly. “It’s stupid”.

He tilted his head, his gaze softening. “If it’s got you this worked up, it ain’t stupid”.

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. Finally, you sighed, looking away. “I walked into your office this morning, and you and Jenny were… I don’t know, close. It just—it threw me off, okay?”.

Beau’s brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face before understanding dawned. “Jenny?”, he asked, his tone incredulous. “You think—”. He stopped, running a hand through his hair before stepping closer. “Darlin’”, he said, his voice softer now, “me and Jenny are just friends. Always have been, always will be. That’s all there is to it”.

You glanced at him, searching his face for any hint of dishonesty. But all you saw was Beau—steady, sincere, and a little bit amused. “You sure?”, you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Positive”, he said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Now, if you’re done jumpin’ to conclusions, how about I buy you dinner? Call it an apology for makin’ you worry over nothin’”.

You rolled your eyes, but a smile crept onto your lips despite yourself. “Fine. But I’m picking where we go this time”.

“Deal”, he said, his grin widening.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

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Part 2

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[arctrooper69]

As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

Chapter 14:

Previous // Next

Warnings: Canon violence

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The trip back to your small shuttle seemed to take twice as long.

“... yeah the shuttle’s still there…”

The subtle echo of voices and gear drifted across the rocky terrain and you froze. For a moment it disappeared and you’d almost convinced yourself that once again this moon was playing tricks on you.

A haggard, hacking cough sounded from around the corner where piles of slag leaned and stacked over each other creating some sort of natural shelter beside the mouth of yet another cavernous mineshaft.

You dove behind a large boulder. Kriff. Cid had said the planet was uninhabited.

Is someone else after the jewels too?

Cid hadn't mentioned that either. You were going to have a serious talk with her when you got back.

If I even make it back in one piece. You rubbed your aching shoulder. From the way this mission was going, you weren't sure just how intact you'd be.

This place is a death trap. At least I have the jewels. Hard part’s over.

The roving light of a headlamp flickered against the rocks before blinking out.

“Karabast!” came a growling curse, “Those kriffing rocks better be worth as much as you say they are, woman!”

“Relax, Nakan.” a female voice snapped, sounding exasperated. “You’ll get your money.”

Two other voices squabled further away.

“Enj! Rico! Get your asses over here!” the female shouted. She sounded human, or at least humanoid.

Crawling slowly, you peered through the cracks of the boulder, to get a better look.

A human woman paced the ground and a large Nikto crouched a few feet from the edge of a mineshaft beneath the craggy overhang of shale. Nakan, the woman had called him.

The ones she’d called Enj and Rico were Weequay - male and female. The female spat on the ground. “We’re wasting our time out here, Boss. There’s nothing here.”

“There will be!” The human crossed her arms, “You just have to trust me!”

The male Weequay said something that you couldn’t quite hear and she nodded. The Nikto got to his feet and followed the others as they continued to search for a different mine.

The voices faded off into the distance, but you waited a little longer before coming out of hiding.

Dust floated through the air, forcing itself deep into your lungs and you choked. Eyes watering, you instinctively reached, pulling the fabric of your shirt to cover your mouth and nose.

Even the air is getting worse. It burnt your lungs. Almost there.

A brief flash of alarmed confusion was the only warning before you found yourself violently acquainted with the ground once again, head forced into the dirt and arms wrenched painfully behind your back, drawing a pained squeal as air was forced from your lungs.

“Hey, boss! Look what I found!” Scaled hands dragged you to your feet, maintaining the iron grip that trapped your arms painfully behind you.

“Get off, asshole!” You spit dirt from your mouth, throwing your shoulders forward to try and yank yourself free.

A sudden click and your jaw snapped shut. The hot dedlanite barrel of a blaster burned into the skin of your forehead. Muscles stiffened as the woman from before brought the blaster down your face, resting it just below your chin, forcing it up so that she could see your face.

“Just when I thought my luck had run out!” she chuckled, “You look like shit and you know what that tells me?”

You glared.

She continued anyway, “That tells me that you’ve been spelunking around here. You find any shiny rocks?”

Any fear left in your worn out mind hardened to a spiteful anger.

Get your own shiny rocks, bitch. These are mine.

Despite the dryness of the air or how your lips cracked and screamed for relief, you spat. “Kriff off!”

Pain exploded from your cheekbone, radiating down your neck as she whipped the blaster without warning.

She slowly wiped the spit from her cheek. “Fine. We’ll do this your way then.”

She turned to one of the Weequays. “Search her. Take what you want then get rid of her.”

The Nikto merely grunted as you kicked your foot back, struggling to gain some semblance of control as he pulled already screaming shoulders ever tighter, binding your hands behind your back.

Nausea flooded passages already inhabited with the adrenaline fueled struggle. It made you dizzy.

A hand jerked the pouch from your belt, renewing the fight to aching muscles. You threw back your head, connecting with the face of the Weequay who’d stolen the stones from your belt. He cursed, dropping the stones, hands flying instinctively to his broken nose.

You reached desperately for the bag of jewels, fingers just barely brushing the fabric.

If I can’t have them, then you definitely can’t.

Another tremor rattled the ground and you watched with numb satisfaction as the small bag tumbled from the ledge into the abyss below.

The woman slammed your head into the ground once more and your vision went white.

“Go in there and get those damn stones!” she snapped over her shoulder, “I’ll take care of her myself!”

The ground began to rumble. A larger quake this time. Stones and dust were violently tossed into the air.

“Shit, just go! Get out!”

Everything was silent then, so slow that it felt as if you were floating - propelled from the edge not by a boot, but by a gentle wind.

***

The Marauder lay so peaceful after that mission.

The memory came to you suddenly as if you’d slipped into a dream, mind desperately grasping to cushion a cruel reality as you tumbled down into the dark.

Omega and Wrecker were laughing because a stray piece of Mantell Mix had landed directly in Tech’s unruly curls and stayed there unmoving. Tech had moved on into the cockpit, yet still that sticky sweet stayed put. It was only when Hunter could no longer keep the grin from his lips nor the laughter from his eyes, that he’d noticed.

That’s the part that played like a holofilm over and over again. The subtly raised eyebrow at Omega’s joyfully hidden giggles. That spark of laughter in eyes that had been serious for too long. The muscles that rippled along his neck and jaw as he held back laughter that soon broke loose and the way he breathed so easily again - momentarily free from the weight of an ever changing galaxy. He was happy.

Oh, what you would do to give him that once more.

I’m sorry, Hunter.

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[imaginedreamwrite]

Simón being in denial about being sick and Persephone is not having it

It would be comical to see someone so large and bulky, so normally in complete control of himself to be in such a state—if it didn’t make you a little sad. Seeing the big bad mob boss wander into the kitchen with a red nose, eyes that looked puffy and irritated, as well as a voice that would wake the dead, made you feel sorry for him.

Any accusation that he was sick was immediately brushed off as stupid and impossible because he was too busy to be sick. And yet he was sniffling like a crying kitten.

“You should go back to bed,” your suggestion was spoken with a soft laced voice, your eyes drifting from the computer in front of you toward Simon, “you’re sick.”

You were looking at flights, choosing one of the best days to fly on to return home. You got to go visit your parents, you got to go back to the land of the living according to Simon. And he had arranged a series of private flight schedules for you to pick from, you just had to decide.

“Not sick,” he sank onto a chair at the kitchen table, popping the top off a bottle of whiskey, preparing to down it, “choose a flight yet?”

“Everyone can get sick,” you closed the laptop with a click and made your way toward him, moving quickly and deliberately stealing the whiskey before he could take a sip, “alcohol won’t help.”

“Princess—” he growls the mocking name, only to start hacking in the next moment.

“You’re sick, don’t be an ass about it.” You take the whiskey to the sink and dump it down the drain, making a show of getting every last drop out. “You need to go back to bed, rest and drink soup.”

“Hate soup.” He growls again, turning his body to face you, hands resting in the table and the back of the chair. “That was a waste.”

“I don’t give a damn, Simon! You’re sick, now quit being a 250lb baby and get your ass to bed or so help me—!” You slam your hands against the countertop, barking your own orders at the man who locked you in his estate in the UK and simultaneously saved your life.

After you yell at him, he goes silent. You think he wants to say more, you think he wants to bark back and fire off another retort to counter your own. You stare him down, unflinching before he finally stands. He wavers, he looks like he might even pass out before he moves toward you, his hands grabbing the counter to steady himself.

“You’re leaving.” His voice is neutral, surprisingly. His eyes look you over, his lips pursing into a firm line that almost makes you break eye contact with him. “Leavin’ to the US, goin’ to see yer mum & dad-”

“No.” You lean back, crossing your arms over your chest as you take a slow look around the kitchen. “I’m going to take you back to bed and then I’m making you soup. You’re going to eat it, you’re going to rest and then you’re going-”

“Don’t want you to leave.” His voice betrays his stony expression, and it makes you falter. It makes your arms fall to your sides and your lips part in sudden surprise. “Like havin’ you ‘ere, Persephone.”

“Yeah well…” you finally speak after a moment, breathing out an exhale. “you take getting used to…Hades.”

[darn-waffles]

ok ok ok ok but do you see the vision. do you feel it in your bones??

two pilots who drifted incredibly well in the beginning of the program piloted the Eclipse. Because the government was pushing to popularize the jaegers, it was heavily themed and the pilots were nicknamed Solas and Lunar or Sun and Moon for short.

Eclipse was originally part of the "Glamrock" line of jaegers that were made to appeal to the public and hopefully bring some more money to the struggling program. This, obviously, failed when a rebel group (started by the notorious mafia boss William Afton (ex jaeger pilot, lost his other half Henry and supposedly lost the jaeger named Springsuit in the ocean while fighting a black and white striped kaiju nicknamed the Puppet) started hacking the program in what appeared to be a fit of rage over his lost jaeger and co-pilot.

He hacked the Glamrocks one by one, in subtle ways at first that barely affected their performance in battle, at least at first. It was just subtle enough to go unnoticed until it was too late.

Bonnie was the first to go, falling victim to the virus and Afton's control. Foxy fell shortly after, but they were able to recover the body and refurbish it into a new jaeger named Roxy.

When the Eclipse started to show signs of wear from the virus, there was talk of scrapping them. But sun and moon insisted they were fit to pilot and so the eclipse embarked on a fetal final mission. It fell to a kaiju that was mostly blue with two horizontal white stripes. Eclipse was thought to be lost to the bottom of the ocean. That was, until a kaiju with a red top-half and a ring of white around its neck found it. The fight stirred up water and brought the Eclipse close enough to the surface to get a radar reading on it. Turns out, the Eclipse was wandering the bottom of the ocean this entire time, its pilots just barely surviving in stasis inside. Pentecost took them in (in the new and questionably legal jeager program) and refurbished the Eclipse with a far less flashy look. it was built for speed, attacking quickly and with precision.

[blackjackkent]

Continuing to explore the riverfront at the northwest corner of Rivington... surely this lovely area removed from the main bustle of the city will provide some peace and quiet and allow Rakha to step away from the influence of her terrible Father boiling in her blood--

Nope.

(A/N: For some reason the game also just started playing the musical theme from the nautiloid in this area? I can't really think why, it's not really a subtle nod to anything that happens in this corner of things that I can think of.)

I think things have abruptly gotten a LOT more challenging for Rakha from a mental perspective in the last few days. The Bhaalspawn reveal in and of itself was traumatizing, but the days following are almost more so in their way. Things that would previously have elicited nothing more than low-level growling interest from the beast in her head now trigger full-on flashbacks, crystal clear fragments of memories of her own lifetime of murder.

She's gotten a lot quieter in the last day or so, even more so than usual, more withdrawn into herself, eyes more hooded over. She drifts restlessly from Wyll's side to Jaheira's but snaps when anyone tries to ask her how she's doing. And everyone is so frazzled by this that they manage to biff every perception check and wander through a string of traps lining the beach, hidden within clouds of choking steam.

So no one's in a very good mood, and none of them can parse out an immediately obvious reason for why either the traps or the dead bodies are strewn in their path, which doesn't improve the atmosphere at all.

A little ways further along the path, though, one of those bodies is still alive:

"Somebody there? Friend or foe...?" a terribly weak voice hisses from the bend in the road. "Guildsman or... stone bastard?" A pause. "Doesn't matter much anymore." There's the sound of a terrible, wet, hacking cough, and then, lower: "Kelemvor... Myrkul... Jergal... if any of you bastards are listening... just get this over with..."

Something seizes in Rakha's chest. Yes. Give him what he wants. End it. A knife through his throat. Finish it by your hand before his breath leaves him.

She turns away sharply. "Go," she mutters to Wyll. "You talk to him. I-- can't--"

Wyll gives her a concerned look, then glances at the others. Jaheira nods, taking a subtle step forward to block Rakha's view of the dying man.

So it's Wyll, instead, who goes to talk to the man, sees the extent of his injuries, registers an insignia he doesn't recognize on the armor.

"Ugh... my legs... can't feel 'em... Tell the others... let the boss know..."

"What happened here?"

"Guild... wanted the cargo..."

Narrator: You hear the blood gurgle in his struggling lungs - his last ounce of strength is spent.

(A/N: And then we stepped out of the cutscene and his body did an unintentionally hilarious ragdoll as it died, which was a bit immersion-breaking. XD )

I feel like Wyll probably knows, in general terms, who the Guild are, and Jaheira certainly does. Minthara, Lae'zel, and Rakha, however, are all baffled by this whole exchange. And even Wyll and Jaheira don't have any idea who the Guild could be scrapping with that would have this high a bodycount while war bears down on the Gate from outside.

Always more questions...

[ridiasfangirlings]

hey ridia! im making a sarumi roomates au and wanted to ask: what jobs would you think they would have, and what would be their college graduation? (in the modern world without powers)

I feel like Fushimi would be either self-employed or have a very understanding boss (so in an AU, probably Munakata or an alphabet boy) just because he doesn’t work well with other people or with customers and gets away with his attitude mostly because he’s so very competent. In a world with no powers I tend to assume Fushimi would go into coding or some level of tech support, putting his computer skills to good use. It would be funny for him to work in some kind of computer call center (‘just turn it on and off again, you utter moron’) but I think his skills are likely better than that. I could see him doing high-level security work, using his hacking skills to keep other people from being able to hack systems that he’s working on. If he’s not working on commission via self employment I could even see him doing security work for like a government agency, where people are shocked at his youth and find his attitude terrible but have to admit that his skills are the real thing. 

Yata I definitely see in a more physical job, like construction or something similar to canon with him working at a sports store and skateboarding on the side. In an AU where he goes to college he’d presumably have more options open to him than as a middle school only graduate like he is in canon. Even so I could see Yata drifting from job to job, maybe wanting to make money from skateboarding but it’s rough and he’s not sure what else he would want to do. Otherwise I think he’d work well doing construction or even like lawn work or house painting, just something where he’s outside a lot and lets him move around. I don’t think he’d take well to desk work at all, I think even if it was something simple he’d be bored in a cubicle all day. Where Fushimi would probably go to a fancy high level school I see Yata as more of a trade school guy, who gets annoyed when people act like his work is for idiots because it’s actually really hard and Yata’s proud of his ability to make and fix things, he wants to be someone dependable.

[phen397]

Sonic adventure 2 but told through notes I took while playing part 3

Time for the mines

A knuckles level

Gonna be tougher than he thought

Oh God it is a water temple

Water level unlocks and locks different areas

Drowned

All 3 get

Back to the city

Always alot of police around when u don't need them

Facts sonic

No signal from emeralds

Space only explanation

Knuckles in the sewers

The mines connect to the sewers?

Amy leave his head alone

Again Tails buddy I am sure it is important but can we get the audio guy to chill out here

Tails is tracking the president

Definitely not illegal at all

He has hacked the president's phone

Almost took knuckles' head off tails chill

Tails ain't waiting Amy he is gone

Route 101

Gotta get the president

Mario cart time

Drift king

Found you mister president

Reports say country is in crisis

What u want Egg boy

Full surrender or boom

Sonic heard that though the window

Now in the president's car

And cutting people off again

Good question Mr president

Hey wait

Signal from agent

They really raided the president's car, dissed Eggman, then jumped out a window and refused to elaborate

Pyramid time

Eggman went in there

Bat girl again

Time to kick some empireal butts

Lots of tails love for these last few levels

Hidden base

Avoid the quick sand

Blow up Egg blocks

Lots of animals omg

Is the colour of the animal it's rarity?

The animals shall be sacrificed to the child

Can I but him in the transporter thing?

I CAN

Okay he is in there now

Pyramid cave time

Half pipe time

Hourglass doors

Swing poles

Oh thing

Bounce bracelet

Bounce jump thing?

Doors that need a key

More half pipe

Done

Let's see if I can leave my Chao

I cannot

Wtf

Okay take the child out of the transporter

Headed to the center of the base

Eggman like machines

Gotta have a spare spaceship

Need key

I GOTTA GET IN THERE

Knuckles find key

Worlds greatest treasure hunter

Took me way too long to find the hammer gloves

Can now break metal boxes

Oh

I killed omachao

Didn't even think to try

Oh

Nvm

He back

Lots of digging through walls later

Key gotten

OK

Let's try to win a race

Mushroom race

My boy can run now

Wipes contest

Canyon

Wiped

Crab time

Easy work

Valley now

Jump off a cliff for the win

All level 1 races won

Got a sonic thing

What that noise

Bug ghost

King boom boo

Boss

Run around the circle to get behind him while he is busy attacking

Hit the little guy with the Hourglass to open skylights and fey boss

Dig up boss when he tries to hide

Smack da ghost

Rinse repeat

Knuckles looks like his only thought the whole time is"oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit" as he runs around

Boss done

Door open

What did you guys do?

Eggman here

Leave it to sonic

Eggman gonna kill us

Big golem man

I AM THE EGGMAN

Second boss in a row

Egg golem

Run around big boys ring climb his "back stairs"° hit big weak spot oh his head

Boss done

Nice try rocky

Cutscene

Pyramid opens

Space ship inside

Sonic run

TO SPACE

So this is the ark

Hit a rock

Knocked open the cargo bay and ditch the master emerald pieces

Don't touch that lever

*all scream*

What's up with that tyrannical knuckles

Place shut down after "incident" 50 years ago

Was advanced but now empty

Not much time

Impenetrable from outside attacks

Tails has a fake emerald

Anti emerald

Destroy power supply

Switch emerald out

Win

Amy got nothing to do and is gonna bitch

Running through ship with tails

Gole in hull claim me a few times

Bazooka

Big gum go brrrrrrrrrrrr

Like proto Chaos guys are here

Destroy generator for the win

More tubes for the child

The child for reference

Gonna hang put witht the kids till next time on this exiting adven- hold on one of the kids is drowning as I write this(not even kidding)what a little guy

[aita-blorbos]

(OCs) (CW: dystopia, child harm)

AITA for not understanding a kid’s emotions?

‘K umm I (29M) work for my boss (??F), who I’ll admit, I know little about, but she pays well so I don’t question it. I do a lot of shit for money, but for my main thing, I’m really good at sneaking in and out of things + expert hacking. Recently, like always, the boss called me up and said she had a job for me. I was like, sure, why not. It’s a government building, sure, but I’ve handled harder shit before. I got into the building and saw a kid, definitely no more than 12, inside one of those science-y tube things? Boss told me to release the kid, so I broke the tube.

Long story short, turns out, the kid AKA Amir (500+M), along with like 6 other kids I never met, are the reason why everyone is eternally happy. Like, the way Amir explained it, basically the government took a whole bunch of kids no one would miss, put some god power in them (???) that made the kids immortal, put them into comas, and then sorta used them as vessels for everyone’s “suffering” so everyone is happy (IDK what the word suffering means and it’s too late to ask).

Anyways, now we’re like hanging out on a roof of a building. And Amir tells me that he’s “sad” that everything is unrecognizable. And that he’s “mad” that he had to be in a tube for so long. And other words like “jealous” and “fear”? I was so confused on what those words mean, and I thought maybe it was linguistic drift over time or something? So I asked and he answered. But I still didn’t understand. What are “negative emotions”? And I kept asking more and more questions, and his face slowly looked more and more… not happy(?). And then he ran away from me. I’m now trying to find him.

I’m not really sure what I did, but if he ran away, that probably says he doesn’t want to be near me, right? So, was I badgering him too much? And can anyone explain the concept of “negative emotions” better? AITA?

[crehador]

brother crab's winter 2024 parting thoughts: metallic rouge

man. alright. one of the most promising starts of the season but tl;dr ngl this is pretty embarrassing for you bones

this show started with a close to 80% average score on anilist (which is really good) and has since slid down to 60% and the sad thing is i can't even say it didn't deserve that

there are a lot of very interesting concepts here, but the quality of the series as a whole declined so steeply from potentially great to... just not great

it's never easy to turn what was meant to be a 2-cour series into a 1-cour show, i get that. but they really fumbled it here. there were a lot of moments where i felt like the story would have been better served as a video game, and i think it's because it felt like all we got were major cut scenes/boss fights, while all the little chats and flavor text in a game, that would usually make the world and characters more robust, were missing

i can definitely see how this might have done better with a second cour, though maybe that's hopeful thinking because the writing overall just doesn't inspire confidence. there were lots of fun, quippy moments, but they seemed to drift about in a vacuum. it's almost like everything was interesting but at the same time meaningless

what makes me say embarrassing is the animation, though. lots of good character designs! some good, maybe even great, action sequences! but in terms of consistency there was no consistency, and this was bones. not just bones but their 25th anniversary project!

obviously something happened to mess with the production, but at this point i would've just scrubbed the 25th anni label from the project entirely. because it is sincerely just a lil bit embarrassing for a studio like bones to call this its 25th anniversary project

some episodes weren't so bad, but in some the characters felt like they were off model more than they were on. it's just not a great look. even the quality of the op (in terms of animation, not the music, which was incredible) wasn't up to par with what i would've expected

it's just so so so obviously a series that got hacked way down that i really have to feel sorry for it. like for instance

WHERE WAS THIS ROUGE FROM THE OP??? it just really feels like they had a lot more planned for the series that they didn't get to do, which is unfortunate

but even with them losing a whole cour... idk it makes me think of hoshiai no sora, also meant to be 2-cour and wound up only one. i vastly prefer the way hoshiai no sora just let itself end of a big 'fuck you' cliffhanger, honestly i can understand if people dislike that ending but i thought, given the time constraints, it actually worked really well

anyway. real bummer but not even the yuribait could save this series from being devastatingly mediocre. sincerely there are so many good ideas, themes, dialogue snippets, etc that just did not come together at all. it's like a show that wanted to be everything but ultimately didn't know what it wanted to be at all

the music however! the op, the ed, all the music! really excellent

ultimately this slipped from "potentially great!" to "not bad... i think..." to "well at least it's not listeners"

[angelsleepinggurl]

𝐒𝟐:𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟏𝟐

═════ ◈ ═════

Earlier this week, Nanami found himself in the centre of Geto and Gojo's latest scheme, their laughter echoing in his office after he had reluctantly let them in. He didn’t have much tolerance for their childish antics, nor for their endless attempts to coax a reaction out of him, but somehow the two managed to breach his defences again and again. He looked up from his paperwork only to find Gojo lounging across from him, a smirk tugging at his lips, while Geto leaned in from the side, his voice a teasing whisper.

“You know, Nanami,” Geto begins, “it wouldn’t kill you to loosen up once in a while.”

"Can you imagine?” Gojo chimes in, his voice light and endlessly amused. “Our stoic friend? Out for drinks with his employees? Don’t make me laugh.”

Nanami sighs, his eyes drifting back to his papers as though ignoring them might dispel the ridiculous notion. “I’m busy.”

But Geto and Gojo share a glance, clearly undeterred.

“Oh, come on,” Gojo presses, leaning forward with a glint in his eye. “You work them to the bone, you’ve got the whole brooding thing down, but you could use a little bit of fun. Even just once.” He waves his hand dismissively. “I mean, you’re starting to look a little… boring, even.”

A flicker of something crosses Nanami’s face—annoyance. He holds his insults back.

Gojo grins, sensing a rare opportunity. “Think of it as team bonding.”

"Or just basic decency,” Geto adds with a sly smile.

“Fine,” Nanami says, interrupting their banter, his voice steady but resigned. “I’ll do it. I’ll send out an invitation for drinks. But only this once.”

Nanami could swear he heard a cheer as they exited his office, no doubt delighted with themselves for having won. By the end of the day, he sends out the email to everyone, concise and blunt, true to form.

Subject: Team Outing - Drinks this Friday

Message: You are all invited to join us for drinks this Friday evening.

Time: 7 p.m.

Location: Rum and Rumble.

Attendance is optional.

As the email pings in inboxes around the office, you can almost hear the confused reactions echoing down the halls. By Friday, the talk of the week is all about whether this is a joke, a trap, or some kind of test. In the downstairs reception area, you catch up with Annalise and Darios, both of whom are staring at their phones with equally suspicious expressions.

“I’m telling you, there’s no way Nanami sent this on his own,” Annalise whispers, eyes wide. “Someone hacked his email. It has to be.”

Darios chuckles, leaning in to show his screen as though comparing notes. “Or maybe he’s testing us. Maybe he wants to see if we’ll show up and embarrass ourselves.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Well, if it’s a test, I’m still going. Someone’s gotta check out what this new version of ‘Team Bonding Boss’ is all about.”

Annalise grins, sharing a mischievous look with Darios as you all gather your things. “But seriously, do you think he’s had a little too much to drink himself?” she asks, tilting her head slightly. “What do you think inspired him to take this leap?”

“Maybe he’s got a lady in his life,” Darios responds.

“Yeah, I mean, he’s always so serious,” you add. “Maybe he thought he could use a break from his own routine. Doesn’t have to be a lady.”

Annalise raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Do you think he actually wants to have fun, or is he just trying to prove something?”

“Maybe it’s a bit of both,” you say, glancing back at the email one more time. “I think he’s the kind of guy who keeps everything bottled up, and this is his way of letting loose, even just a little bit.”

The three of you exchange amused glances, and the excitement bubbles over as you step outside, the evening air cool against your skin. You all head down the street to the Rum and Rumble, laughter spilling out into the night as you share your thoughts on what the night might hold.

The Rum and Rumble is alive with chatter by the time you arrive, the atmosphere warm and comfortable, with a little too much noise spilling over from the booths and bar stools. Nanami has reserved a few tables in a quieter corner of the bar, and the others have already taken advantage of the drinks. Annalise and Darios are in animated conversation, their laughter punctuating the general hum of voices. Nanami himself sits in a chair tucked away at the end of the table, a drink in hand, although it’s obvious from the barely-touched glass that he has little interest in finishing it.

As you take a seat across from him, you can’t help but stifle a giggle. He looks like he’s fulfilling a reluctant promise, his posture rigid as he watches the chaos around him with a familiar, resigned expression. It’s somehow endearing—the way he’s here because of something he said, though he seems so out of place.

Nanami catches your eye across the table, brow arching ever so slightly as if to say, What are you looking at?

You bite your lip, gesturing toward his drink, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “Not much of a drinker, huh?” you say, leaning forward just enough to make sure he catches the playful glint in your eye.

He holds your gaze, a small huff escaping him before he glances down at the glass. “I’m here,” he says evenly, as though that alone should be enough.

It’s clear he’s aware of the absurdity of his presence here, but you can see the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes like he’s allowing himself this one night to play along with everyone else’s antics.

“I didn’t think you’d actually go through with it,” you tease, leaning forward in your chair. “I mean, we’re all used to seeing you as the boss who never lets his guard down.”

He gives a slight shake of his head, eyes flicking away to watch the others for a moment. “Geto and Gojo can be… persuasive, when they want to be.”

You chuckle, imagining the scene, the way those two have a habit of chipping away at Nanami’s patience. They’re somewhere in the middle of the bar, having convinced some of the others to join them in an enthusiastic but ill-coordinated round of karaoke. Their laughter carries over, mingling with the scattered cheers and clinking glasses.

Despite his usual aloof demeanour, Nanami’s gaze returns to you now and then, as though he finds himself just as curious about your reaction to seeing him here. There’s something about his presence that feels grounding, even in this dimly lit bar filled with voices and music. And each time you catch him looking, there’s a little rush of warmth that settles somewhere deep within you, almost like a quiet understanding between the two of you.

The night progresses, laughter and conversation flowing around the table. Drinks come and go, and even though you’re on the opposite side of the table, there’s a subtle pull that keeps bringing your gaze back to him. It’s like some unspoken invitation—a sense that, even with everyone else here, he’s somehow sharing this night with you, too.

At one point, you notice Nanami chuckling softly at something Geto says, though he tries to hide it behind a hand. The brief moment of levity, the relaxed ease that passes over his face, makes him seem different—warmer, even.

“Looks like you’re loosening up a little,” you say, unable to resist the playful remark.

He rolls his eyes slightly, giving a small shake of his head. “Don’t get used to it.”

The atmosphere is buzzing with laughter and chatter, a stark contrast to the usual quiet of the office. You’re feeling lighter than air, caught up in the warmth of your coworkers’ camaraderie. As you lean back in your chair, your gaze flickers toward Nanami, who remains at the far end of the table, a quiet observer amidst the laughter. His drink sits untouched, a testament to his role as the responsible adult in the group.

Suddenly, the mood shifts. A guy from a nearby table approaches your group, a confident swagger in his step. He’s tall, with tousled hair and an easy smile that seems to light up the room. He catches your eye and grins, his gaze lingering a beat too long. “Hey there, mind if I join you?”

You exchange glances with Annalise and Darios, who smirk knowingly. You chuckle nervously, unsure of how to respond. “Uh, we’re just hanging out,” you say, trying to keep it casual.

“Yeah, but it looks like you could use some more fun,” he replies, his tone flirtatious. “I’m Tyler. What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you say, feeling a heat creep up your cheeks. You glance at Nanami, who’s suddenly gone rigid in his chair, his usually calm demeanour slipping as he watches the exchange unfold.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Tyler says, leaning a little closer, clearly undeterred by the energy at the table. “What are you doing here with this bunch? You deserve better company.”

Just as you’re about to respond, you catch a glimpse of Nanami from the corner of your eye. He’s leaned back slightly, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his jaw set in a way that suggests he’s fighting against something. You can’t help but smile at the sight of him, quietly fuming.

“I’m actually having a great time with my coworkers,” you say, attempting to steer the conversation back. “They’re really fun.”

“Fun? With him?” Tyler gestures toward Nanami, his smirk widening. “Looks like he’d rather be somewhere else.”

“You’d be surprised,” you chuckle, “He just takes a little while to warm up.”

Nanami shifts in his seat, and when you look back at him, his expression is a mix of irritation and barely concealed fury. He’s staring daggers at Tyler, who seems oblivious to the tension brewing behind him.

“Maybe I could show you a better time,” Tyler suggests, his tone becoming more overtly flirtatious. “How about I buy you a drink? We could get to know each other better.”

You feel your heart race, but not from excitement. Instead, a sense of discomfort washes over you.

You shake your head, forcing a polite smile. “Thanks, but I’m good. I’m just here with my friends.”

“Aw, come on,” he presses, clearly not ready to give up. “Don’t you want to have some fun?”

A laugh escapes your lips, but it’s more out of disbelief than amusement. “Really, I appreciate the offer, but I’m happy here.” You gesture toward your coworkers, who are enjoying their drinks and laughter, feeling a sense of camaraderie that you don’t want to interrupt.

Just then, Nanami clears his throat, his voice steady but low. “I think she’s made her choice, Tyler. It would be best if you found someone else to bother.”

You watch as Tyler narrows his eyes, realising he’s lost this round. With a tight smile, he backs off, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Your loss,” he says, turning on his heel and striding back to his friends.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, you burst out laughing, a mix of relief and amusement washing over you. You catch Nanami’s eye, and his expression softens, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

“Did you see the look on his face?” you giggle, shaking your head.

“Yeah, well, he clearly doesn’t know you very well,” Nanami replies, the corners of his mouth twitching upward as he allows himself a small smile. “You’ve got better taste than that.”

The lightness in the air around you shifts, a new energy sparking between you. It’s subtle, but you can feel it, a warmth that goes beyond the humour of the moment.

taglist: @kodzukenmaaa @markleeisdabestdrug

(please send a dm or comment on my the pinned blog to join.)

𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫…

[jtr-taonaw]

Dungeons of Hinterberg (2024) - ★★★½

Dungeons of Hinterberg [DoH] is a chicken soup for the type of mental cold I feel I’m recovering from during these crazy political times. On the surface, it’s another hack-and-slash game with some puzzles sprinkled on top, but as you go deeper into its dungeon, its balanced tempo starts to drift you away.

The game’s high point wasn’t my latest mini-boss fight or when I finally figured out the puzzle in the Jelly caves; it happened when I was sitting next on a wooden bench on top of a cliff, a wooden hut with a straw roof behind me with a couple of cows ruminating grass.

Luisa, the protagonist, sat her sword down and admired the view. As she breathed in the fresh air, I also took a long breath in my chair and let my mind rest from the long list of emails I needed to catch on. Later, when Luisa was ready to go to town and make new friends, I was recharged enough for a little walk outside myself.

DoH is not an excellent action RPG, a visual marvel, or a deep story you’ll remember for months. There are other games for that. Rather, It’s a game about experiencing life. The monsters in the dungeons and the puzzles are well-crafted metaphors for conquering both mental and physical challenges with the help of friends, a good night’s sleep, and well-honed skills you’ve learned in the meantime. The game’s mechanism works like a calm therapist, reminding you that breaks and self-care go a long way in helping you later when you pick up your sword (keyboard) to slay monsters (another set of instructions you need to write, perhaps a piece of code).

Taken in like that, in little dosages between other pressing projects at work, you got yourself an inviting relaxation routine you’d want to adopt. This game is a treat, meant to be taken slowly and with care. Don’t rush it; just relax and enjoy.

[labyrinthinesyndicatex]

The compliment about his skills made Gavin want to deflect with another joke, but something in him decided to actually accept it for once. "Thanks man. Though sometimes being good with computers just means I spend way too much time talking to machines instead of people." Thinking about Spider-Man made him remember how excited he was when he won the bid. "Yeah, those other items were straight-up ridiculous. Who pays fifty grand for a signed napkin? Rich people logic, I guess." His mind drifted to sharing those crab cakes with Ishika, trying not to smile at the memory. "Man, watching those CEOs throwing back thousand-dollar scotch like it was tap water ... that was something else." The sudden shift in Desmond's tone about Ishika made Gavin's stomach drop. The implied threat hung there between them, and all his usual deflections dried up. This wasn't some system he could hack or data he could manipulate - this was Desmond, who could probably snap him like a twig. "I ... uh ... got it. Crystal clear." The words came out smaller than he intended. His brain helpfully reminded him that maybe dating your surveillance target's head of security's boss wasn't his smartest move. But then again, when had he ever done the smart thing?

“The way I see it, it’s quite the skill that not many people can do. Nothing wrong with owning it.” complimented Desmond with a nonchalant shrug. Learning about Gavin’s experience at the charity event, he had to hand it to the man for being discreet of his whereabouts with Ishika. “For charity indeed, although a first edition Spider-man sounds more reasonable than some of the other over the top items. I agree some of the food was pretty decent, but what takes the cake is the rich and their alcohol intake.” A laugh escaped his lips as he shook his head in disbelief, “It was an open bar and yet some act as if they can’t afford the top shelf stuff.” Making his way to the exit, he then held the door open for Gavin and then pointed at Maki, “I should get going though, she needs to wrap up her walk and well, duty calls." As he undid his dog's leash, he then added, "Oh and Gavin, should anything happen to my employer under your care or whenever you're with her..." He fell silent as he let it fill the void and when he glanced up a sardonic smile crept onto his lips as he said, "I won't hesitate to break boundaries regardless of who you're affiliated with."

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Yuu can do it!

Part 39

First - Previous - Masterlist - Next

Enma rolled his eyes at Grim. The monster had preferred ways of ‘riding’ each of the Yuus. With Kuroki, he often chose to drape himself around the back of his neck, a living version of a classic fur scarf. When with Ito, the monster often found himself cradled in their arms like a baby, which perhaps wasn’t the most dignified position but was definitely the one that allowed him to drift off to sleep with the most ease.

For Enma – though it wasn’t often that he chose to be held by him, probably because Enma was the least outright lenient – he often perched himself on one of his shoulders like a pirate’s parrot, as the boy was the only one of them that was actually large enough for him to do this.

Right now, though, he was slumped over his shoulder, to show that he was ‘depressed’. About what, Enma really wasn’t sure. But probably about something.

“What is the deal with those guys?!”

Riddle scowled. “I'm not the one to ask. Those two have baffled me since we were freshmen together.”

Cater pulled out his phone. Not to use, though, funnily enough. Perhaps, in these trying times, he simply needed to have his comfort object with him. “Messing with them seems like a reeeal bad idea.”

Ace nodded emphatically. “If I were the culprit, I know I’d steer clear.”

“You are the kind of person that would pick off your competition in an underhanded way, so I’m inclined to take your word for this,” Riddle said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

Cater waved his hands for attention. “It's getting late, so let's make this next person the last one for today, 'kay?”

“And we’re running out of people to sacrifice,” Ace chipped in, always ever-so-helpful.

“ And we’re running out of people to sacrifice, yes. So. Jack Howl: freshman, Savanaclaw Dorm. Rumor has it that he's a great athlete. Scouts from all the major teams are fighting to sign him.”

Deuce snapped his fingers. “Oh, him? He’s on the track team with me. Classes are over, and we don’t meet today, so he should be at his dorm.”

Riddle’s shoulders jumped. “Is it that late already? Rule 346 says that ‘croquet must not be played after 17:00’ I should head back to Heartslabyul and make sure that no one is breaking the rules in my absence.”

Grim groaned. “I thought you'd rounded out some, but nope, you're as square as ever. “

“Hey!”

Enma sighed. “Don’t worry, senpai, I’ve got this. Grim.”

“Shit. Kuroki isn’t here anymore. I have to behave,” Grim said, slumping further on Enma’s shoulders. “Sorry for calling you a square, Riddle, even if it’s true.”

“It’s–! It's not true! I assure you that I've become much more lenient about enforcing the rules.”

Cater nodded emphatically, throwing a thumbs up. “He really has. He's way nicer than before. And we all appreciate that Riddle diligence. So go do what you gotta do, Boss!”

To show their support for his character growth – and because they were technically both going to the Hall of Mirrors – they walked him to his dorm.

And then they went right by approximately five and a half steps, until they were standing in front of a different mirror. This one was bigger, as if it was made with someone far larger in mind, shaped to look like they were stepping into the mouth of a ginormous beast. Dragging claw marks decorated the metal, not deep in a way that felt entirely purposeful, but instead as if some of the yagujen had trailed their hands along it idly as they stepped through.

They sent each other mildly wary looks before making their way through the mirror.

A blast of warmth and a soft, earthy fragrance met his nose. Then, colors began to filter into his vision. Bright, tropical plants and vibrant greens. A path cut through the greenery – literally ‘cut through’, it looked as if it had been hacked into the jungle by hand. Though it can’t have been that long since the last people had come through, the plants were already growing back into place.

Enma snickered to himself, hanging back as the magic users in the group were forced to carve themselves a larger path. Even Grim, more out of impatience than anything, had joined in. Ah, the upsides of being seen as incapable due to things you can’t control: getting out of doing things.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, perfectly happy to look around to the tune of his friends struggling.

There was no shortage of animals peering at them all from the trees. A couple of birds were fighting, though over what Enma wasn’t sure (he considered whether it was possible that even the animals at this school were wannabe thugs). Still more chose to stay where they were, save for a couple of hops on their branches. Quite a few followed them from a distance, curious.

He thought that Kuroki might like it here.

He also thought that Ito might hate it, on account of the birds reminding them of Crowley.

He snickered to himself.

He missed them.

And then his eyes caught on what looked to be a giant pitcher plant.

Suddenly, he did not miss them at all. Because if Ito and Kuroki were here, they would have immediately told him off before he’d even suggested what he was about to do. But they weren’t here, so…

His gaze flicked, briefly, to the others to make sure that they were still distracted, struggling with a particularly thick set of vines.

Slowly, he made his way over to the plant. He clambered up the side, vaguely interested in the cloyingly sweet smell that it emanated.

A hand caught him by the back of his shirt and dragged him down before he could peer inside.

He turned to pout at Cater.

Cater didn’t seem swayed. “When did you lose your self-preservation instincts?”

“Lost the first half of them a little more than an hour ago when my friend got sacrificed, and the other half about twenty minutes ago when my other friend got sacrificed.”

“Ito and Kuroki can not be the entirety of your self-preservation instincts.”

Enma crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. “I once took apart my phone just to see how it works. I did not regret it one bit. I cannot stress this to you enough, senpai. They are, like, 99%, at the very least.”

Cater looked mildly stressed out by this information. Perhaps Enma should have chosen a non-phone-related example, but would Cater have understood the gravity of any other example?

“Ito and Kuroki haven’t even been gone for a day yet! They’ll be home later!”

“I wanted to see if it was what I thought it was!”

Cater knelt to pick up a stick, and then tossed it into the plants mouth. There was a loud snap! as the flower closed around it.

Enma earned a Look from Cater. The kind of look that suggested the boy thought he was going to say he was right and thank him for saving him.

He did no such thing, only huffing and rushing to catch up with the rest of the group.

Cater followed with a groan. Enma wondered if the reason he had saved him had been less to do with any actual care, and instead more about wanting a break from all of the manual labor they had been doing.

Whatever.

Soon enough, the jungle started to thin, and the air around them became less humid, more outright hot. The rocks on the ground grew more numerous, and then simply grew, until it was no longer out of place to be staring at a large cliff face. A series of buildings had been hung from a rock overhang, dangling in a way that might have been dangerous had magic not existed. As it was, it was instead cool to see how the buildings wove together intricately, thin rope bridges spanning between them for the sake of convenience.

“Huh... so this is Savanaclaw,” said Deuce.

“Couldn't be less like Heartslabyul,” said Ace. Despite the fact that the guy hated his own dorm, Savanaclaw seemed to disgust him even more.

“I kind of like it,” Enma said.

Ace frowned. Likely because he was being disagreed with, which was just… not something he tended to allow.

“That’s… surprising.”

“Why?”

Ace motioned vaguely to the entirety of Enma. Enma did not understand what this was supposed to mean.

He sighed and, apparently, decided that Enma was a lost cause, because he was quick to move on: “So what's this Jack guy look like?”

Deuce shrugged. “He's got wolf ears, silver hair, and a big, bushy tail.”

Oh wait… was this… that guy …?

Hopefully ‘Jack’ had forgotten that time Enma had stared at his… tail. That was, like, on the first day. He had to have forgotten that by now, right?

Maybe he should leave.

Before he could fully commit to that idea, though, Grim gasped and pointed to a guy that was, frankly, just going about his business. He was enjoying an afternoon jog, probably working up an appetite. Sounded pleasant. Unfortunately, this peaceful time was sure to be ruined for him.

“Is that him?”

“Whoa, good eye! There's no way that's not our boy,” said Cater.

Grim puffed out his chest with pride.

“And I thought those twins were big! This guy's huge!” Ace said.

“I can agree with this one,” Enma mumbled absently, glancing back the way he’d come. If he didn’t know that this was a task assigned by the Headmaster, and that it was necessary for at least one of the Yuus to be there for the entire day to properly relay information, he would have bailed. He was still heavily considering it.

“No wonder all the scouts are after him,” Cater said, whistling lowly.

“With that build, he'd be an asset on any team,” said Deuce. His lips curled into a smirk. “Nice to know he’s in my club.”

Jack looked at their little group dead on, and his eyes narrowed at Enma briefly.

Enma cringed and ducked his head. So much for hoping, he supposed.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let the big bad wolf bite you,” Cater said, winking.

Enma was not going to correct his assumption, actually. Watch him hide away in fear of some random, buff guy that may or may not know how to fight. It is definitely fear and not awkwardness over what he had done, however accidentally.

Where were his emotional support housemates?

“Hey, you! Mr. Scowls-a-lot!” Grim yelled.

Not that one! That one doesn’t have as much tact as the other two! Shit!

Jack whirled around, apparently just as shocked as the rest of their group.

“Just wanted to let ya know somebody's probably gonna try and hurt you. But don't worry — I, Grim the Great, will protect you!”

Jack didn’t even seem amused by the monster’s sheer gall. This did not bode well. Grim survived almost entirely thanks to people laughing at him.

“ What? Look, don't bother me when I'm training.”

“Sevens…” Ace murmured.

“ That’s your approach, Grim? I can't even count all the ways that was terrible.”

“I’m revoking your speaking privileges for the next few minutes,” Enma said. He grabbed the monster and tucked him under his arm, his hand firmly clamped over his mouth. Grim did not seem pleased by this arrangement, but he couldn’t speak right now, so he couldn't say anything to protest this mistreatment. He could bite Enma’s hand, though. Which was. Fun.

“Sooo sorry about him, Jack-chan. Listen, king, could we have just a minute of your time?” Cater said, sending him a winning smile.

Indeed he did win… if you count gaining a few minutes of Jack’s attention to be much of a win.

“What's all this about? You said you wanna protect me from something?”

“A lot of Magift tournament hopefuls have been hurt in accidents on ‘campus’ lately,” Deuce said. He had lifted his hands to do finger quotes, but had done it on the wrong word. Thankfully, Jack was in Deuce’s club, and therefore reasonably well-acquainted with him, and was only confused for a couple of seconds.

“And we're trying to figure out who's behind it,” Ace continued.

Briefly, the boy’s eyes widened in recognition. He looked at their ragtag team of problem solvers, his lips pressing into a thin line. And then he nodded. “Okay. Go on.”

“To put it bluntly, our plan is to stake out some of the criminal's prospective targets,” said Cater. “What do you say? Will you give us a hand in catching this guy?”

Jack made a strange face. Almost amused, but not quite, there was also something undeniably bitter there. “No. I can take care of myself. I don't need your protection.”

Enma frowned. “Wait, come on, don’t you want back u – help?”

Jack snickered. “I doubt I'm gonna be a target. Seeya.”

Enma frowned just slightly. That was… an interesting sentence. With the first denial, he had thought that this was just classic Night Raven College stubbornness, but Jack seemed pretty sure he ‘wasn’t going to be a target’. Too confident, enough so that he had laughed. It wasn’t the ‘I would fight them off’ kind of confidence, either. That wasn’t what he had said.

He supposed it could be the kind of ‘oh, well, I would never get into a car wreck’ mentality…

It wasn’t like they had many other leads, though…

“Aaaaand he's gone,” said Cater.

Enma sighed lightly and let go of Grim. The monster sent him a brief, reproachful look that suggested Enma would have to buy him a can of tuna later. He didn’t mind, it was worth it.

“Well, can't say I didn't warn him,” Grim said, irritably, once he noticed that he was not getting the millions of apologies he had clearly been hoping for.

“Yeah, well, you might want to reconsider your approach there, bud,” Ace said.

“Ughhhhhhhh! You’re all starting to sound like Enma!”

“I covered your mouth for, like, a minute. I don’t deserve this kind of slander.”

“You do,” Grim sniffed.

Enma rolled his eyes and decided that it was probably best to ignore Grim until the aforementioned tuna can was given to him. “Well, Howl-san said no, so does that mean we’re done for the day?”

“Totally,” said Cater. “Unless anyone is down for another –.”

“NO!” Deuce yelled.

Cater chuckled. “I was just kidding. Let’s go.”

Unfortunately for them, though, Deuce’s yell had drawn the attention of a pair of Savanaclaw students.

“Heyheyhey! What are you lot doing here?” said the first, a boy with messy orange hair.

“Leaving,” said Ace, flatly. He was probably bitter about the Savanaclaw kid stealing his brand.

“You're a long way from Heartslabyul House,” the second said. He had a set of giant antlers that, frankly, looked a little bit deadly.

(“Why does everyone forget about Ramshackle?” Enma mused quietly.)

“You think you can just barge onto our turf and walk away without paying the price?”

Their little group of students eyed each other warily. This was starting to feel a lot like a brewing fight. Quite possibly because it was one.

“Let's play Predator and Prey! Guess who gets to be the prey?”

Enma cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, listen, dude, I know what you’re going for, but you really shouldn’t be calling yourself a ‘predator’...”

It was deathly silent for a few seconds. Their tiny group started inching towards the exit in the moment of awkwardness, in hopes that they might just be let go so they could all pretend that had never happened.

They might have succeeded, too, if it were not for Leona Kingscholar’s untimely arrival.

“What’s going on here?”

“Housewarden Leona! These students are trespassing on our territory!” the boy with antlers reported dutifully.

“Let's teach 'em a little lesson! Heh heh heh.”

Leona looked, unfortunately, interested in this. Damn it. They’d been so close.

Enma groaned internally.

And then groaned externally. Because his eyes landed on one Ruggie Bucchi.

“Enma! Hi!”

“ Please, Ruggie, don’t – wait. I’m not at work. You have no power here!”

“Debatable.”

Leona’s gaze briefly flitted over to the pair of them, amused, only for his eyes to narrow at Enma. “Hey... I know you. You're the herbivore who stepped on my tail at the botanical gardens.”

Enma was never coming back to Savanaclaw Dorm again. There were simply zero upsides. The dorm itself was cool, but it would be cooler if Enma hadn’t managed to get on the bad side of literally everyone he had had the displeasure of meeting since school had started.

“You... you stepped on the housewarden's tail?” said Antlers-boy, looking somewhat impressed, but also mostly like he was about to try and skewer him.

“Now you're really gonna pay!”

Enma groaned. “I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to step on Kingscholar-senpai’s tail and I didn’t mean to stare at Howl-san’s butt, okay?!”

“‘Sorry’ is not good enough!”

Deuce had different concerns. He gave him a wide-eyed stare. “You stared at that guy’s ass?”

He threw his hands up in exasperation. This was too much for him today. He should not have let his friends get sacrificed. “I was looking at his tail and realized too late that that was not as innocent as I thought it was!”

“Let’s beat them up,” suggested not-Ace, grinning widely.

“Stop yapping like a pack of wild dogs.”

Oh! Thankfully, it looked like Leona was just as annoyed by the situation as Enma was.

“You really wanna risk starting a fight before the tournament?”

He would still take the win!

“What if you get disqualified?”

(Enma’s head tilted to the side. Did that mean that technically he could fight someone and get them disqualified? That would be kind of funny. He made a mental note of that for later, in case Ruggie was extra annoying during his next grocery run.)

Antlers-boy looked incredulous. “What, so you're just gonna let 'em walk away? Not even nibble on 'em a little?!”

“I’m sorry, did he just say that he was going to ‘nibble on’ us?” Enma said.

His question – which, in his opinion, was a very valid one – was ignored.

“No one's ‘letting' anyone walk away. We're gonna resolve this with a ‘friendly’ game of Magift. After all, it doesn't violate any school rules to cast spells during a game of Magift.”

Ruggie leaned towards Enma, grinning. “Ten thaumarks says you guys aren’t going to last even one game.”

Enma debated whether his pride was worth losing money. He decided that losing money over this particular bet would also hurt his pride, and therefore decided against it.

Grim, however, was more prideful than he: “Welp, I'm not taking that one lying down. Now we’ve got no choice but to fight.”

“You say that like we had a choice to begin with,” Deuce muttered.

Unfortunately for Deuce, his surprisingly astute observation was ignored.

“You're on. Cater! Remember this when you pick the official team!”

Cater looked at the ground imploringly, silently begging it to open up and swallow him whole. “Are you kidding me...?”

“Uh, senpai,” Enma began, feeling bad for the boy but figuring he might as well break the news now rather than later. “I know this isn’t a good time, but I have a quick question… how do you play?”

Enma soon received an answer: not like that.

In case you, dear reader, have somehow yet to realize this, Enma does not have magic. Which is unfortunate, because a large percentage of Magift was based on magical ability. Can’t score if you’re encased in a dirt shell, after all.

And, on top of that, his teammates included Ace, Deuce, and Grim.

Poor Cater. Not only had the ground actually heeded his pleas only to mess up its aim and swallow the wrong person, but he had been stuck as the only competent person on the team. Frankly, Enma was surprised he didn’t throw in the towel sooner.

Yeah… they got their asses handed to them. They didn’t score a single point.

Enma groaned in relief as his dirt prison crumbled away into nothing, clambering out and flopping on the ground with a groan. The stupid magical dirt had been even more ‘stupid’ly hard to get out of. He was just grateful he hadn’t suffocated down there.

“Awwww, giving up so soon?” Leona teased. He grinned widely. Enma couldn’t even be that mad about it because the guy was, unfortunately, very attractive. “Don’t want a rematch?”

“No thanks,” said Enma.

“Alright, then, let’s take it from the top!”

Attractiveness be damned. Enma considered the pros and cons of cursing. He deserved it. As a reward.

Before he could commit either way, they were saved:

“What's going on here?”

They turned to see the man, the myth, the legend, the boy who has a very bad name for such grand titles – Jack!

Leona’s expression dropped into a scowl. “We're just having a little fun with some trespassers.”

“What's fun about tormenting amateur players?”

(“ Amateurs?” said Ace. If Enma were any less involved in this, he would almost be impressed by the size of his ego. But he was very much involved, so he kicked him in the shin to get him to shut up.)

Ruggie smirked. “Awwwwwww, Jack! Heroically standing up for the downtrodden! How woefully admirable!”

Jack’s tail went ramrod straight, seemingly out of embarrassment. He crossed his arms over his chest, scowling. “I'm just saying this is a disgusting spectacle and I don't wanna have to see it.”

For a long, terrifying moment, Enma wondered whether they were going to ‘invite’ Jack to another ‘fun’ game of Magift. At least then they would have a whole two members with actual skill, he supposed, but he would rather not be buried alive again...

Leona groaned.

“Fuckingggg greaaaat. Now you've ruined all our fun.”

Enma owed his life to this random guy now.

“Whoa, Jack- kun. You do realize who you're talking to, right?” Antlers-boy said.

Jack scoffed. “If you're gonna play the upperclassman card, you oughta act the part.”

“What did you say to me?! You want a piece of this, too?!”

Life debt revoked until further notice. Random guy has quite possibly made things worse.

Leona snickered at them. “Pretty bold, frosh. I guess I can respect that. I’m bored now, anyway. And it’s not like running up the score against you losers is accomplishing anything.”

With that, the guy… straight up left. The others followed at his heels, too. Their group stared after their receding backs, stunned. There was no way it was that easy. It was never that easy.

And yet.

They were gone.

Enma was going to get down on one knee to reinstate his life debt. How dare he doubt Jack and his all-amazing ability to… guilt people, apparently.

But that would be embarrassing, and he wasn’t sure whether Jack would want a debt from him. Speaking of, he probably already owed the guy from the whole… inciting incident. He didn’t have much to offer, on account of the ‘being poor’ thing. Jack would have to settle for just one debt.

He cleared his throat awkwardly to clear that particular line of thought. “Everyone alright?”

Cater sent him a look that screamed ‘that is a dumb question’. Which was fair.

Still. Enma huffed. “It’s nice to ask.”

“Heh. Guess you’re right. Well, I can't say that was my finest moment on the field.”

Deuce didn’t even bother dignifying him with an answer of his own. Instead, he turned to Jack. “Thanks for the help, man. Don’t know what we would have done without you –.”

“Save it. I ain't in the business of charity work.”

Ace was perfectly fine with an excuse to not have to say the dreaded ‘thank you’. He groaned and slumped against Enma’s side. “I'm drenched in mud over here! Let's just call it a day and go home.”

Enma wasn’t as affected by the mud as Ace had probably hoped. But, if Ace had wanted to annoy someone, he should have probably gone for the many other people who weren’t already covered in earth.

“Ramshackle ‘home’ or your dorm ‘home’?” he asked before Ace could come up with more creative, effective ways to be annoying.

Ace pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Do I have clothes at you guys’ place?”

“Why are you asking me?”

Deuce smirked. “Well, apparently it’s up your alley, since you make a habit of staring at people’s –.”

“Finish that and I will make sure Ito never feeds you again.”

“Finish what?”

Enma nodded curtly. “Thought so.”

Grim who had evidently tuned them out upon the mention of Ito’s food, looked at him with wide, hopeful eyes. “Mmmmm do you think they’ve made dinner yet?”

“Uhhhh…” said Enma, who doubted it, given Ito had been stolen by The French and who knows how long that could take. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Only one way to find out for sure! Let’s go!”

Cater seemed pleased to have a chance to go home and pretend this entire day hadn’t existed. “All right, Jack, we're taking off. Don't get in any ‘accidents’, you hear?”

“You've got a whole lotta nerve to be worrying about me after that Magift attempt. Now get out of here already.”

Their group was pretty quick to do so, but as Enma glanced back to throw the boy a sheepish wave…

He found Jack staring at them with a complicated expression on his face. Like he was considering calling after them.

Quietly, Enma bookmarked the information.

He went back to facing the front and groaned upon seeing the particular kind of smirk Ace was sporting.

“It’s not like that,” he sighed.

“I can’t wait to tell Ito and Kuroki.”

“ Don’t.”

~

Ito and Kuroki both came home looking as if they had just come back from a war. Ito was carrying several, miscellaneous bottles of skin and hair care products. Kuroki had a book on alternate dimensions hugged close to his chest, so he had clearly not been too pleased about being sacrificed to the Leech twins, even though it was his own idea.

Enma lifted a hand in a wave. They didn’t even seem to see him.

They were probably fine.

Enma went back to figuring out their homework.

~

The Yuus really didn’t get a lot of downtime.

Sure, world-ending threats were… infrequent enough that they hadn’t yet snapped, but their day-to-day lives were still a lot.

They had school, of course, and homework. They had a lot of catching up to do for these things, as well, seeing as they had been born in an entirely different world and therefore had many years worth of classes to make up for, and that ate into their free time.

They had their jobs. Their bosses were lenient and understanding (to a point, though maybe their perspectives were skewed thanks to the worlds they had come from, and their bosses were actually trying to overwork them, who knows), but they still didn’t have much money, and that meant long hours were a must.

There were their everyday shenanigans. Ito turning into a baby. Ito turning into a worm. That time they finally realized that they should not leave Ito alone during Alchemy anymore, resulting in both Enma and Ito getting trapped in a time loop (they didn’t talk about it).

And they were okay with all of this – they were, really – but it meant there wasn’t much downtime, and when there was it was most likely devoted to dropping straight down onto their shitty mattress and passing out immediately.

Hell, Ito was actively flipping through stacks upon stacks of papers for their job. Calling this ‘downtime’ was probably a bit of a stretch, to be honest.

Still…

Enma sat on the ground, listening to Ito mumble to themself as they worked, to Grim and Kuroki debating the tuna budget in hushed tones.

He pulled out his notebook and flipped to the last page, titling it: WHY ARE WE HERE?

He debated, briefly, adding the words ‘just to suffer’ in small print, but decided that was not appropriate for the tone.

And then added it anyway.

He grinned, but it was half-hearted.

It was pretty much certain that they were dimension hoppers, and from different dimensions.

(The other option was that they didn’t yet have a concept for what was going on, but that… Enma wasn’t going to think about that.)

But that suggested that the three of them were actively chosen, didn’t it? There had to be more than four dimensions total, it made no sense for there to be three ‘normal’ dimensions and then just one random magical one, there were likely several in between that allowed for a more gradual transition.

So, why them?

It wasn’t like they had much in common, either in a superficial sense or a deeper one. Enma was taller and broader. Kuroki was more self-conscious. Ito was from an entirely different country, and their name was only ‘Yuu’ on a technicality.

Sure, they all got along, but they weren’t dumb enough to think this was entirely because their personalities happened to mesh well. They were less of a found family and more of a group of people who had pack-bonded through shared trauma. And it was entirely possible that they would have gotten along with other versions of themselves, too.

Why them three?

A dimensional rift? Across only four dimensions? He doubted that.

Enma groaned, running a hand through his hair.

Okay. Their names. It was probably their names. It definitely wasn’t their few common traits (them being gossips, and their occasionally overlapping sense of humor), those weren’t the kinds of things that people would actively search for. It had to be their names, then.

Some kind of mixup.

That begged another question, though:

If it was a mixup based on their names, and they had been dragged through several realities… had they taken the place of some ‘Yuu’ in this world, or was one of them actually supposed to be here?

And, if so, who?

“Hey,” Enma said, and both Ito and Kuroki looked up from what they were doing, identically confused expressions on their faces. “If you had to guess, which one of us do you think is best suited for this reality?”

It was silent for a minute.

Kuroki shrugged awkwardly. “I dunno, I’ve never thought about it. I think it wouldn’t feel right if it was only one of us…”

“Obviously,” Enma said. “I’m not saying that I’m going to kill the two that aren’t chosen or anything, I just want to know what you guys think.”

Kuroki mulled this over for a few moments more. “Probably Ito. They can make friends, they just don’t, because we called dibs on the first day. It’s a good trait to have when you get dragged into a whole new world without warning.”

“I’m not that much more of an extrovert.”

“That’s not what I mean. You’re like… I dunno. Parental? Older sibling-esque? And you know that would be a hit at this school, everyone here has family issues.”

“I don’t,” Ito said.

“ Exactly.”

Ito rolled their eyes before giving Enma an odd look. “Can I ask why you want to know this? I mean, it doesn’t really matter, does it? We’re all stuck, that’s not going to change.”

Enma groaned. “Can I mark you down as yourself as well, then?”

“Oh. No. I’d honestly say you, Enma. I mean, you actually like this world. You’d be happy to stay.”

Enma’s eyebrows knit. “You wouldn’t?”

“No one here… speaks my language,” they said.

Enma and Kuroki looked at each other, confused. Maybe the French thing really had affected them a lot.

They snickered, resting their chin in their hand. “What about you? Who do you think is supposed to be here?”

Enma narrowed his eyes at them briefly, but they didn’t seem intent on explaining any further. So, he sighed and let it go. He shrugged, tipping his head back against the bed frame. “Kuroki, I guess? I mean, he’s got us both beat in our classes, and he gets along best with Grim. If we were always meant to go to school here, he’d be best, right?”

“Great, well, I’m glad we cleared up absolutely nothing for you, then,” Kuroki said.

“Yeah, thanks guys,” he said.

Ito laughed and finally got up, stretching out lazily. “I think we all might be at that point where we’re overthinking things because it’s late at night. Bedtime.”

Enma had never agreed with a statement more. Hell yeah, bedtime.

~

Despite his wishes, his body was not as happy about the concept of ‘bedtime’ as it should have been. Maybe it was the late night contemplation of his situation, maybe he was just sore from getting buried alive earlier (something he was no longer going to think about, actually), or maybe it was just because Grim had a tendency to sleep talk and sometimes that was hard to ignore.

Whatever the reason, Enma found himself heading out for his morning jog far earlier than usual.

The sun hadn’t even begun to poke out from behind the horizon.

He watched the sky, absently counting the stars.

Usually, when someone was lost, people would tell their loved ones to look at the sky, and find solace in the knowledge that, no matter what, that, at least, would never change. So long as the person wasn’t dead, they would be looking at the same stars, the same moon. So long as they were alive, looking at the same sky, they could still be found.

The stars were different, here – more numerous, clustered in entirely new patterns.

He wondered if this world, too, had constellations, and what their stories were.

He wondered if they, too, had had their stars snuffed out by pollution, or if perhaps there were more stars, if the centuries of light and dark magic had floated up into the heavens and painted the sky with patterns entirely of their own making.

Humans are the only creatures that can overcome nature.

But what would happen when they had finally discovered everything?

What if they never did?

Enma wasn’t sure which thought scared him more.

A dull shiver ran through him. His eyes flicked downwards, away from the sky, only to find himself among the stars, tiny lights dancing around him.

He swallowed thickly.

He still reached for the nearest one.

His fingertip brushed it. It was warm.

It flicked away, the tiny balls of light congealing into one giant mass.

He peered into the strange clump of stars, and they looked back.

Bright – luminescent – green eyes widened in mild surprise when they met his, and in an instant a person was standing in front of him.

Enma shrieked and jolted away.

You’ll have to forgive him for being startled. The person appeared out of nowhere, which would surprise just about anyone, even if they hadn’t been tall and adorned with sharp teeth and claws and horns. Beyond that, there was something about the guy that rattled that little .01% of his brain that could force him to ignore his curiosity because the thing in front of him was just that dangerous. The same kind of intense feeling that had come when he had seen Sam’s shop for the first time. The one that told him to run and not look back. That this thing, whatever it was, was ancient and powerful.

The stranger didn’t even seem shocked by his scream. He must be very self-aware. “Who are you?”

“You can’t just – trespass here! I – I have a gun!”

“That wouldn’t be able to hurt me. And, no you don’t.”

Enma wasn’t sure which part of that concerned him more. But it was then that he noticed the person was wearing a school uniform, which meant shooting him was probably unnecessary (and impossible, considering the stranger was right in that he didn’t have a gun).

“… okay…”

“Are you a child of man?” he asked, circling him slowly, looking him up and down.

He kept his head on a swivel to make sure that the person (not a human, that much was clear, but a person, he thought) never left his sight entirely. “Uh – you mean, like, a human? Yeah, last I checked?”

“Ah, you’re so frail, though. They don’t make children of man like they used to.”

“I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“That is alright. You don’t have to.”

“Thanks…”

It was silent for a few moments, and Enma became aware of the fact that they hadn’t even done formal introductions yet.

Enma cleared his throat, sticking his hand out for him to shake. “Oh! I’m Enma Yuuken, and you are?”

The person stared at him with wide eyes. As if, despite him just saying he was a human, he had started to grow another head, and he was trying to decide whether this was simply an interesting fact that he had not yet known about the species.

“You… don’t know?”

“I wouldn’t have had to ask if I did!”

“I am... no, never mind. I'd rather you remain unaware.”

Enma frowned just slightly. That was a little weird, but maybe the guy was in the magical version of witness protection or something?

“Oh… okay, well, I can come up with a name for you, then, I guess!”

“Can you, now?”

“For sure! I will call you…” He squinted at him for a minute. The guy had a lot of interesting features for him to focus on, but there was one thing that made him stand out even compared to the other students at the school. “ Tsunotarou! ”

He gave Enma another wide-eyed look.

And then he started to laugh. Hard. The kind of deep, almost maniacal laughter you might expect of a cartoon villain. Except it was genuine, and probably not actually meant to sound that way.

Tsunotarou nodded, smiling as he wiped a tear from his eye.

“You really are fearless, it seems.”

“Am I supposed to fear you?”

“It does not matter.”

Enma did not fail to notice that that was not a ‘no’.

“It was I who told you you could use a name of your choosing. I'll indulge this liberty and permit you to refer to me by your...curious nickname.”

Enma’s face flushed. “It’s funny! You laughed! Finally, someone appreciates my puns.”

Tsunotarou’s head tilted to the side. “Do others not?”

“No. My roommates – Kuroki and Ito – hate them. Half the time Ito doesn’t even know what the pun is! They just recognize my ‘pun voice’ and groan anyway,” he lamented.

“I see… what a pity.”

“I know! I’m hilarious! You get me.”

“You are amusing, yes.”

Enma squinted suspiciously. He didn’t trust the way that sentence sounded.

“You and your roommates, do you live here? I was under the impression that this dorm had been abandoned for quite some time…”

“Yep! My friends and I are staying here until the Headmaster manages to kick us out.”

Tsunotarou’s lips twitched into a wry grin. “Ah, it turns out that you are the trespasser all along, then?”

“No! Well – I guess? Kinda? Technically? It’s complicated.”

“Well, whatever the situation… I used to frequent this place due to its abandoned nature. I thought I would be upset once this building started getting put to use, but it seems that I might have a new reason to visit.”

[skywestairline]

What features does Drift Boss hack offer?

By pushing a single button, you can play the drifting game Hack Drift Boss. Drive your car across rough terrain and around sharp turns until you lose control and crash off the platform. Play more to unlock better cars and get rewards! One-button controls make it simple to play. cars that can be unlocked with improved handling. A daily award for progress

[mikeysbabygirl]

Hii, can I please request a quiet uninterested reader that works as a hacker for bonten and sometimes helps koko with his work? And he can't stop thinking about her so he acts on it, but realizes that she's a little dom 👀 pretty please 💕

24K spider web

Warning : 18+, Minors DNI. Explicit smut ( just as every writing of mine lol ), dirty talk.

SYNOPSIS : Classy hacker! Reader x Bonten! Hajime Kokonoi.

WC : I DON'T KNOOOW.

The hacker.

Cargo pants, chunky boots, sleeveless hoodie, giant backpack...

Does it ring a bell ? If it does, don't open the door.

This ain't you.

See, pink is the new black.

Glittery keypads, manicured nails typing on the light keys, 24K GOLD MacBook with diamond encrusted Apple logo, designer dresses and your Guerlain Rouge red lipstick in your iconic red Lamborghini.

Bonten has never been a basic mafia organization, it was only fair enough that their hacker was not an everyday hacker.

But shall we start by introducing the frame first ?

Once upon a time, a few years and mistakes ago, through a brighter day, the ghost of a father brought his daughter a computer.

A clear, straightforward path.

She would be hearing the children of her age playing outside while learning to master algorithms, heart shaped eyes, looking at her hero. He wasn't often home, but when he would be, he was eyes glued to that magic box that had much more fun than her. She figured out the only way she would ever see that sparkle in his hues was when she would follow his golden footsteps.

Small fingerprints marked the keyboard keys' at the rhythm he likes, drawing the stars she always wanted to see in his eyes, she was a prodigy.

Too much.

She was too curious for her damn own good, and she liked to break things. She was good at gaining computer's trust, and her hobby was to see just how far she could push the things.

Government doesn't like people who excel at finding creatives ways to break things.

Diamond bracelet that the years of working as a freelance hacker provided you got replaced by tight handcuffs, you indeed went too far.

Luck finally smiled at you with an unsmiling Sano Manjiro visiting you at the incarceration center. Heaven lost an angel the day you signed up in Bonten, as their private prodigy hacker, in exchange, dirty money, corrupted lawyers and government opened your prison cell's doors.

That is how the legend was born.

Kokonoi would always remember the first day you stepped inside the Bonten premises, Valentino stilettos clicking against the floor, lustrous and smooth hair swaying with your every move, styling a white structured coat-dress, as if hours ago you weren't Kept under heavy guard in one of the most secure prisons in the state.

-" The great thing about people using technology to protect them is that I can hack it. Now if it was some giant monster with teeth protecting them, we would have a problem. But this ? This is not a problem. "

Those were the first words you uttered on your first day, entering your new office with most of the team waiting for you in it.

They were about to find out how undeniably talented you were.

Mafia's were transforming toward the digital world, you were the key for them to undergo that change to this new era.

-" I'll have you hooked up to the camera feed in no time. You'll be able to see everything they can."

This definitely expedited the process of many of their missions.

The whole mafia world was amazed by the speed with which the Bonten made this transition into cybercrime, you were climbing the ladder at an incredible speed, earning the respect of all your colleagues and even that of the big boss.

-" they are not the only one to know how to jam a signal ".

Sitting on your throne, in front of your brand new purple computer setup with almost all of the executives surrounding you, you had promised to win the cyber war. Hajime was in the front row to witness your victory against the hacker of the biggest Chinese mafia. He felt himself drifting away from years of numbness while looking at those stars in your eyes.

Unfortunately, that wasn't an everyday sight. Mikey hadn't probably been the sweetest person in the world in order to convince you to work for them, Sanzu was very likely not the best office neighbor you could have had, and Ran's flirtatious ways were not the most pleasant thing to begin the day with, yet he always thought you would eventually warm up to your co-workers.

It is quite relevant to say that you have never been close to it.

You barely talked about anything else than the work, nobody was used to catch a sight of you outside of your work hours, sometimes they would even feel lucky if your eyes met one of theirs on your way to your office.

This had earned you quite a reputation within the gang, it is indeed well-known that mystery piques all interests, your ice cold fueled passion's fire.

At the prime of his career, having everything he wanted the minute he thought about it, Kokonoi lacked a good exciting chase, no need to say you more than fitted the task.

Something about not knowing, not being able to read you like an open book made it harder to not think about you.

Just as now, sitting quietly on the chair next to yours in your office after asking your help for some work, he could not take his eyes away from you.

The long hours of work took their toll on your hair. It was now loose, cascading around your face, dimly lit by the purple light of your screen. It was late, nearly everyone must be home now, still he did not felt guilty at all for keeping you longer.

Graceful, the word circled in his head as he contemplated the glow of your skin under the aesthetic light. Anyone would have felt his eyes on them if he stared at them just as he was doing with you, but you didn't even turned an eye on him, too focused on finishing the work in the shortest possible time and in the most immaculate way, as always.

-" that's it, give it to mommy. Stop resisting... " He thought he heard you uttering, Kokonoi's eyes widened slightly before he straightened on his chair, snorting.

-" Do I need to leave y'all alone maybe or... ?"

God, he felt as if he was a virgin young boy again, waiting for the slightest smile of the girl who caught his eye. Except it was way easier to get Akane to smile back then, and that you barely looked at him now.

-" my work is a computer confidence trick. " You explained, still typing whatever on your keypad. " Hacking is mostly finding ways around security, not through it. "

The man next to you placed his elbows on your desk, earning a side glance from you while he leaned over a little bit.

-" that supposed to explain why you're flirting with a screen ?"

-" that supposed to be funny ? " You tilted your head to the side, not giving him a single look, hearing another snort. " You have your love, I have my computer. Now back off. "

He was rather surprised, though you were often cold, you rarely spoke in such a sour tone.

-" My love ?" It was his turn to tilt his head, questioningly, you shrugged.

-" your love, your money, whatever".

-" I see the iceberg knows a little about me, should I feel flattered ? "

You peered at him through the corner of your eye, finding his eyes already glued on you. Nothing you were not used to, honestly, though he was more inconspicuous than the other executives and co-workers when he contemplated you, you still worked there enough to notice his lingering stare on you.

-" if it makes you feel better " you shrugged again, his smile faltered getting replaced by a bored expression. He couldn't get it, why did you like so much to play pretend ? Obviously, he was eye catching and impressive, you would not be the first one to ever enjoy getting his attention so he just couldn't wrap his head around the fact that you treated him as if he was like everyone else.

-" that was not an answer ".

You sighed, finally turning your head to look at him, he froze, lost on the way your eyeliner outlined the shape of your eyes perfectly.

-" I've been working for with for a while now, I don't need a Trojan horse to know you're a sucker for money. "

As much as your words could sound contemptuous, your tone was flat and empty, it showed that you had no hostility in your voice, you were too uninterested for that.

He leaned more over the desk, locking eyes with yours with his face only inches away, your perfume invaded his nostrils and he wished it could have been possible to close his eyes slightly and enjoy the enticing scent.

-" No matter how far you go, you work for me. Never forget that, sweetheart ".

Something flickered through your irises the minute you heard him and he had caught it. Though shining under a purple soft light, your gaze was made of daggers and shards, your organized chaos beginning to shatter inside you.

He was no one to address you in such a contemptuous way. Yes, he is more senior than you, and as wealthy as you were he was probably more so, but that wasn't a good enough reason to play macho, certainly not with you.

Turning your swivel chair toward him, you raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms. His gaze swung quickly to your chest that this gesture put even more in value, through your shirtless white tuxedo blazer, then came back to the way your pupils shrunk and your eye color deepened when you leaned over the desk too, an untamed beauty, he thought.

-" You might be the one writing the checks, I keep up the guard's 'round your bank account. One two clicks and you're broke. "

The carnivorous grin that curled his lips the next second should have made you at least flinch, it was his challenge smile, the one he did before winning a new contract he knew he got in pocket.

Now, because of him, you were more wolf than woman. Eye roasting him while he slowly got up from his seat, taking his time to dust off his suit pants then walking around to stand up behind you, leaning over your head while resting his arms on the back of your chair.

You threw your head back and let your eyes bore into his, not the least impressed or intimidated by his proximity. With that cool blanket of indifference and cat's eye air, sharp magnificent sword-like looks dragged across his soul, igniting inner snake instincts to bite.

-" This is a threat ? 'cause love, the last person who talked to me like that ended up at the bottom of the river."

And to think you were just mentally noting how cute he was, overlooking you from his height with his feline-like eyes and a hair strand falling close to your face.

You raised an eyebrow and parted your lips open, his eyes lingered there before coming back to your hues, guts stirring because of the rare sight of a smirk on your face.

As if you were going to be scared of him.

-" barking dogs never bite. "

A dry laughter escaped his mouth, making your smile widen. His right hand moved to grab your shoulder, while the left one moved your loose hair to the other side, he swallowed thick air staring at the naked soft-looking skin of your neck, and let his lips brush your ear with every following word of him.

-" d'ya think prison is the worst place you could go ?" Right hand traveled down your blazer, wrapped around your neck, index finger got pressed on the plump of your lips. " pull some shit like that again and I’ll have you thrown in places that’ll make prison seem like a wet fucking dream.”

Your smile never faltered, however something about how those eyelids drooped seemed as the first smoke hints of a wildfire.

Plutus, young god of abundance in this city, he might be. Yet he was standing on top of the goddess of not only webs but also spiders, warfare, Athena. He could feel them snakes serpentine around his body each more seconds you were staring, burning holes on him.

Fascinating, least he could say. Kissed by magenta, glowing and consuming his interest, and there to remind that being the light means being made of fire.

His finger that was resting on your lips, you bit, as a snake injecting sweet venom that coursed through his veins, fueling a hard-on. Red lips, white teeth around his finger, any pain was long forgotten for a sharp desire of ripping open the soft neck skin under his digits, crawling inside and never leave.

-" See, babydoll" he pulled his finger out of your mouth, still smiling as if you weren't ready to draw blood out of it. " Barking dogs can actually bite ".

And there you were again, solar plexus fire, and for some reasons his chest seemed to open up like wild flower around you. He could not stay any longer, what he thought was an iceberg turned out to cut sharper, hit hard like a dart tearing apart slashes of his heart and leaving a nasty scar.

He took his eyes off you and as he removed his hand from your skin, the temperature suddenly dropped. Kokonoi turned around, without a glance behind him.

-" now be a nice bitch, want that work on my desk by tomorrow. "

Not to be mistaken, he was a nice person, a good boss even if a bit demanding, nevertheless he always respected his employees. However, he saw no reason to respect the person who insidiously reduced him to ashes without even trying, the one who managed to disrespect him and yet keep him so intrigued, attracted.

You haven't actually been offended by the insult, honestly was it far away the sweetest thing you have heard about you that day. What started on the other hand, playing on your nerves was the way he went thinking he could order you around, and God knows it was hard to get a reaction out of you. Indeed, he was your supervisor, yet no one not even Sano Manjiro ever adressed you in such a condescending tone.

You let him make his way toward the door of your office, letting him think he actually had the last word.

Letting him bath in his ego for three more seconds.

Two.

One.

-" you mean like the nice bitches working their asses out to provide you money ?" You turned in your swivel chair to face his stiffened back, hand frozen on the door handle. " Hajime motherfucker Kokonoi wouldn't worth a single penny, if not the brothel's pussies."

The way he slowly turned toward you screamed indignation, his darkened expression fed your devastating hunger of power.

If it has been someone else from the gang, namely Sanzu or Mikey, a bullet would already been lodged between your two razor-shape shining eyes. But it was Hajime, fortunately or not for you, he preferred to win his battles out of wit.

And maybe, there was something louder than your words, the roaring of your siren eyes and the deafening chaos in your smile.

Making his way back to you, with every step the room seemed smaller, as if he was getting caught in a spider's web while approaching.

He put his elbows on each armrest of your chair, almost closing the distance between your two faces dimly lit by the dark light.

-" say it to my face, and I might not make you scream".

You playfully tilted your head to the side, his eyes fell on your smirking lips, he licked his, bringing your gaze on them.

-" heard you had some eyesight troubles, now you're telling me you have trouble hearing ? Damn, spend some money on a doctor".

He scoffed and ignored your jab.

-" Too afraid to repeat ? Pussy".

-" indeed. I don't see any dick in this room. "

-" Ask nicely and you shall receive" his smirk made him look attractive, you couldn't lie. Something about his teases screamed to be tamed by you, you couldn't just deny how electric the atmosphere around you was.

-" trade all your money and I might just grant you a glance".

Everything about his face told you he liked what he was seeing, he pulled your swivel chair closer to him, knee slipping between your white pants' clothed legs, your expensive perfume as a snake dance hypnotizing his senses.

As if your mysterious personality didn't got him low-key obsessed by you for months, the crumbs you were currently providing were heroin-like addictive, he could barely take his eyes off of you, your face, your cleavage, your hair.

And though his mind ached to shut you down, to cut that snake's head, to wipe the spider's web.

His heart screamed, go, be the light, be the flame, burn him until he is screaming your name.

-"pussy like yours ? Baby, I eat them for breakfast."

-" Is it ?" You teased and approached your face to his, nose and lips almost brushing against his. His minty hot breath hit your cheek in the most exquisite fire.

-" mhm" he nodded, keeping his hues glued to yours, swimming in the darkest ocean he had ever seen.

-" Then pray tell me why... "

You stood up, making him straighten his back at the same time and unfolded your shirtless blazer and plunging neckline.

-" Months of eye fucking me, and I still never felt your tongue tasting me even once ?"

Kokonoi swallowed as discreetly as he could, glad for his hair falling around his face to hide his probably heating ears. If your fierce looks weren't enough to make his pants tighter, your words and his imagination definitely were.

And you weren't done, making a step toward him, you bit your lower lip and frowned, giving him such a cute picture of your usually impassive face.

-" I think you can only afford " pussy like mine ", replicas. Original's too expensive, hm ?"

-" You're playing with fire. "

He had warned, at the edge, burning from anger or lust, those two were just too similar. Wild, fierce, destructive, ruthless, sexy, enticing, sensual, mesmerizing.

All were words that fitted both his hatred and his desire for you, fitted you.

Your smile grew wider, things were finally getting interesting. Since you came here, it was the first time you saw something challenging, worth your attention.

-" Then light me up. "

You commanded, his breath got caught in his throat.

The snake tightened its grip around his body.

-" Light me up. "

You insisted, closing the distance between the two of you. Though you were shorter, you pressed your chest to his, lifting your head to meet his ice-cold gaze with your burning one.

And with your body pressed against his, he was a goner.

Caught in the spider's web.

-" light me up ! go 'head and light me up !"

The tarantula drove its fangs into the young god's body.

He would have thought you tasted carbon disulfide-like, or at least that capsaicin would have burn his taste buds, yet if felt like candy, your tongue rolling around his while you fought for dominance, though he never has been a sweet tooth, he knew he could grow addicted to your sweet taste.

His hands found your waist in a firm grip, pressing you tighter against his body to make you feel just how your fire got him.

That is not what you meant by lighting you up, but honestly you wouldn't complain. He was indeed a good kisser, his lips were fleshy yet soft, a firm cloud fighting hard with yours, did he knew he couldn't cage a tornado with his hands around its waist ?

You pulled out from the kiss seconds later, panting heavily, he couldn't find it in him to open his eyes, afraid that the feeling of flying high would disappear as soon as you would push him away.

He couldn't believe you actually kissed him back, and that he even found the courage to kiss you. You, the graceful and dark side of the moon, the submerged iceberg part. If you had to push him away, he would like to keep the ecstasy a little longer.

But when he opened his eyes, and his heart missed a beat when he locked them with the prettiest face he had ever seen, seeing no hesitation in it, no refusal, his lips rushed to find yours again, and they welcomed him even better than the first time, swallowing his heart out of his chest.

You had kissed him so he found his departed soul again, kissed him into finding his way home again, the light he lost long in this world, breathing a sorrowful joy into his soul.

As if you whispered a story in your kiss, for him to realize that every story comes to an end, and every end means a new beginning.

Though he could not get enough of your lips, he needed more, the beautiful foreigner with familiar eyes tasted the sweetest drugs to pass his lips, the highest of highs, he ached for you to stay and give him just one more sweet fix.

You pulled away again, his heart raced faster when your hands flew to his Louis V dress shirt, unbuttoning his wrapped desire. Golden rings felt cold against your heating skin as the back of his hand rested slightly against your cheek, giving you one of the most worshipping looks you have seen in your life.

-" pretty girl, watch baby give this body some good love, yeah ?"

As much as his words, and brown eyes under the aesthetic light set fire to your core, you had other plans.

Once you were done with his dress shirt, grabbing him by his collar you switched your two positions, and faster than he could ever react, in a swift movement the outsole of your stilettos pushed his chest away-not aggressively though- just to get him sitting on the swivel chair that moved toward the desk under his weight.

Kokonoi's eyes widened, he didn't see your move coming and was even more taken aback when the few buttons of your blazer were undone before his eyes, the latter falling to the floor.

You lay your armor down and your crown shows off, and you display a collection of all the things that makes you wonderful and unique, as if you were an exhibition under his expert eyes that couldn't find anything to criticize, a work of art. His cold lustful eyes preying on your physique, stinky soul searching for you, such a treasure, just for him. Almost not wanting to blink so he wouldn't mess an inch of your body during that blink of the second.

-" Not letting a man tell me what I should do with my cunt. I'mma take the lead. "

As you became a loaded gun, his suffering is tempting, is addictive, is attractive, your fire takes ahold of him controls him, he is passive.

You had woke up the beast inside him, craving you so badly that a wild storm came surging from his core.

-" Fenty Savage " he notes as you got closer to him, eyes glued on your floral lace unlined bra, and pants that soon found the ground, revealing the thong in the same pattern riding your lips. The soft lavender color sang the praises of your skin too louder for him not to notice it, and he thought, that body was not made for a chair and a desk, nor for an orange prison suit, but for walking on a damn red carpet.

-" I see you know your stuff mister money maker " your hoarse but soft voice whispers while you straddled his lap. Above him, the money god was nothing but a devoted servant praying to his goddess with worshipper's hands venturing out and roaming the miles of your burning flesh to your back.

Koko leaned in, his mouth writing wet poems at your neck, your muscles numb by the divine sensation of his silent words and the soft texture of his lips.

He kissed your neck, smelled it, you smelled of water colours, of empty canvases wanting to be stained, every inch of your flesh whispering its desire to be tagged to his ears. Craving you was a strange poison coursing through his veins and filling his senses with a wanting that felt like it had control over him, pulled him down and licked his neck, runned its fingers all over him. Then, he found you, teasing him while your hands were playing with his belt you were undoing. He did the same for your bra, that fell to the ground and was rewarded by the sight of your bare chest. Lips traced your jaw, collarbone, then his tongue ice skated on the burning skin of your chest, talking to your heart, revealing to it the secrets of months spent daydreaming about this moment.

You felt the tissue between your legs get seriously wet and the fact that his lips suddenly captured your nipple activated the throbbing in your cunt.

-" goddamn softie" he praised your breast, your hands shaking from pleasure lowered his pants and underwear just enough to free his hard member, a pretty long six inches with an angry red tip, and you heard a grunt at the same time your palm wrapped around his length.

That enticing look in your eyes had Koko craving for more, your hand wrapped around his most secret part felt like a prison, yet he wanted the walls of that cell to close on him. Your grip tightened around him as you started stroking his cock and he had to separate from your breasts to catch some breath. Exposing his throat to you, you started putting some wet kisses on his jaw, smelling and licking his neck while he started thrusting his hips against your hand.

-" Fuck, too much... "

-" Shhh, fancy boy. 'm gonna take good care of you, yeah ?"

He nodded, in the hot air around, he wondered if he felt himself burning in your fire or melting like sugar on your tongue. You teased animals out of him, but what's wild shoud run free and that night, he would howl for you. Letting his fingers mold on your waist's skin, you tailor-made fit for him, yet he still got you under his skin.

He would gladly have closed his eyelids in order to sink deeper in the fueling pleasure, yet his eyes were captivated, your every curve, every edge his hues were swallowing, they say when people are naked they are on their most vulnerable state, but you, god, you never looked that powerful. Not in Louis V, not in Gucci, but in your birthday suit, a Greek goddess was perched on top of his body from your face so kissable to your imperfectly perfect body, you looked straight out from a playboy magazine and he would never close an eye on this.

His attention was brought to his pleasure again when it disappeared, your hand was no longer on his length, you snorted at his almost panicked expression and reached for your Chanel handbag on the desk behind the chair, he watched with curious eyes while you took the aluminium package out of it and sat back on his lap, biting your lower lip slightly and smiling while opening that one with manicured nails.

-" I don't know about you, Koko. But I think the world would do way better without a human mix of you and me rocking them Gucci shoes".

He laughed in a breath, watching as you slid the condom down his length, you lifted your body slightly for him to slide your underwear down, and threw your head back in a melodious moan while his finger smoothly found your clit with sweet torturing orchestrations.

-" Go 'head, love " he whispered against your neck's skin, feeling you starting to wet his lap. " Kill me".

He commanded, you obeyed for once. Clinging to his shoulders, you lined up your entrance with his tip and started sinking on him, you let out a gasp at the stretch. He was not even completely inside but you would swear you never felt that full.

-" Gotcha, love. Would ya take me in ?" He inquired in a hoarse voice, you raised an eyebrow though with parted open mouth from pleasure, was it a challenge? His eyes were teasing, it was.

Your cunt was throbbing around him and by the way he began cursing under his breath, sweat dripping slightly from his forehead, you understood he noticed too.

- " Shit, so tight. ya feel so good !"

As if he wasn't filling every part of you, you ignored every hard obstacle and started bouncing on him, setting your own rhythm to show who had the upper hand. It almost drove him crazy, how you would always crack the finish line and go overdrive.

His head dropped on your shoulder, slightly biting on the flesh hearing your moans echoing through the office. You were the wildfire that destroyed his guts like old trees, caressing their branches as your flames danced all over him.

-" fancy pussy" he grunt against your skin while you were busy chasing your high and bringing his. " Takes my cock better than any bitch-"

-" The original" you half laughed half moaned, feeling your walls independently tightening around him, you were closed, and by the way his eyes rolled, he was too.

- " Hajime!" Without even thinking, you found yourself moaning his first name that you never used, you did not even know how it came suddently to your mouth.

About Koko ? A firework would be an understatement to describe what he felt when he heard you screaming his first name in pleasure.

Your moans were music to him that let his body on fire, but calmed his soul in peace. A music that no word can ever sing. And his breaths were the rythme which embraced your body but caressed your soul, a tune that no symphony can ever play.

- " Say it again " he ordered, while you looked at him through half-lidded eyes.

-" Hajime " you repeated, and he did not even tried to fight the urge of crashing his lips against yours.

He felt himself in the deepest parts of your soul, his body was so much on fire that his mind could not comprehend. All he could assimilate was the deep-throated groans that escaped his lips and the goosebumps he got into his torso while your bare chest was brushing against him.

In the center of that poem, discarded clothes, nudity, bodies roaming each other, his thumb reached for your clit and only minutes later, you came undone, clenching around him and making him come in the condom as well.

-" my baby's the prettiest when she comes" he teasingly breathed, then nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck when his high started feeling too ecstatic, so reluctant to the idea of leaving your perfect warmth that even minutes after you two finally caught your breathes, he still didn't pulled out.

Your fingers found his chin to lift his head toward you.

-" You did so well for me, Hajime. I'm proud of you, pretty boy ".

Something in his chest squeezed too hard, no matter if it was due to your honest gaze that he saw for the first time, or your words. No one ever took the time to tell him how good he did, that they were proud of him, he has been achieving an endless goal with no obvious end, and through the continuous wanting and craving for more, you reassured him, you touched him ever so softly, more than he had ever been in his life. You gave rest to his homeless soul.

And for once, he had been grateful that life broke him, for he finally found someone who he eventually thought might fill the empty spaces.

But you were way too far gone, a moment, keeping you was as trying to hold water in hands, and before he even tried, you were already slipping between his fingers, putting back all your clothes.

-" where to ?" He anxiously asked, putting his pants back. You emptily gazed at him, your distant gaze now back and he had to swallow the lump forming in his throat.

Why was he suddenly feeling so bitter ? Didn't he thought that once the challenge taken and the mysterious person opened up, the constant thoughts would go ?

But no, now they seemed even stronger, and louder. He was left unsatisfied, left wanting more, the soft touches and the tough ones, the rough words and the few sweet ones, the burning gazes, everything seemed so close yet so far already.

He stood up, taking back his shirt that you threw toward him and giving you a questioning look.

-" Home, obviously? Oh and, I just gave you the best pussy of your life. I'm definitely taking a day off tomorrow".

Through his worry, he couldn't help but let his lips curl into a slight smile, buttoning his shirt back, he bit his lower lip.

-" you tellin' me your over productive ass would accept some rest ?"

You winced while approaching your desk and taking your bag, he was right though you never talked about it, he probably noticed how you plunged in work and over worked yourself. You froze however when you heard him add.

-" Take me home, and I'll give my pretty girl a reason to stay in bed".

You turned to face him with a smile on your face that made his heart raced faster.

-" already obsessed or what ?"

Yes, absolutely yes.

-" well..." He made a step toward you, his hands flew to your hair, putting it back in place before dropping to his sides and locking eyes with you. " I may be starting to want you for myself ".

You scoffed, grabbing your Lambo keys and turning around, making his chest tightened.

Stopping right in front of the door, you didn't turned around when you uttered.

-" Fine. But I'm driving. "

Network : @tokyo-ballroom @downtown-roponggi

I hope you like it, anon !

I don't even know why I need to make my characters fight in EVERY thing... Enemies to lovers trope 🤦🏻‍♀️ but it's 7am and I haven't slept the night so goodnight!

As always, I don't know the artist, but if you know them, gimme their @ pls for credit <3

For other people who asked me requests, don't worry, I'm slowly working on them <3

[kshira]

— first

summary: you’re teased and taunted for being a virgin by the bonten members—their boss decides to take matters into his own hands

tw. fem!reader, teasing from ran & rindou, cursing, dirty talk, virgin!reader, virginity loss! fingering, praise praise praise, body worship, mikey is literally so sweet, fluffy smut, gentle and cute, mentions of creampie, slight pussy drunk mikey, super soft dom! w/ sub! reader

wc. 2.1k

an. for my dearest @drysoup, i honestly let my soul write this <3

your head usually stays up in the clouds, mind drifting back and forth from your work splayed in front of you to the indentions your nails dig into the keyboard.

quietly tucked into a corner of the bonten building—almost like you're non-existent compared to the vibrant faces flashing through the doors daily.

it’s almost a peaceful job hacking computers, gathering information—until it wasn’t when the most pristine figures appear before you—disturbing your tranquil atmosphere.

“hi pretty” the first one coos, running his nimble fingers through his short locks and leaning over your desk, he toys with your picture frames—ran haitani is mostly distracting, the obvious attraction dripping from his face isn’t enough—the deep, sultry tone of his voice was.

“you look so tense, always workin’ so hard—you should let loose sometimes” ran works his way beside you, sliding a single lithe finger over your shoulder, he leans down to level within earshot “what i’d do to see your cute little face twisted in pain while i split that perfect pussy open with my—” ran pauses, letting your mind fill in the rest.

you shiver, avoiding his touch and raising your eyes to his level “you’re disgusting” you retort, and ran’s smile grows more selfish by the second, “yeah—usually gets pretty messy, y’know? face pressed so hard against your virgin cunt, gotta make you cum at least three times till you can take me,” ran tilts his head to the side watching his brother stand by the sidelines.

“is that right ran? because they usually leave after twenty minutes. i keep them around for hours—begging and crying for more of my cock” rindou walks closer, caging your body into your meager office space.

“virgins are always the best, so tight and perfect” rindou adds, shoving his hand in his pocket while the other leans against the wall, ran steps an inch closer opening his mouth to speak but another voice interrupts him.

“that’s enough” mikey says sternly, glaring at both of the brothers, “go find something else to preoccupy your time, leave her alone” his voice is soft but enmity radiates through it, carried by pure annoyance “if i hear you speak to her again, i swear to fucking god.”

ran and rindou shrugged their shoulders, brushing past their boss as they both find sanzu and target him as their new toy—mikey gently walks closer to you, outstretching his hand to you.

you hesitate to touch him, doe glossy eyes squirming at him “i don’t bite” he laughs, nerves hitting his spine when he feels your warm, soft hand grip his. “t-thank you, manjiro” you reply politely, leveling with his face.

“let me drive you home, don’t want anyone else bothering you” he places a delicate touch to your back, guiding you out of your cubicle and towards the exit.

though you only know mikey from the title laid on his name, nods back and forth as work days started—the amount of trust settled between the both of you, you felt safe—almost like his aurora kept you stationed on this shaky earth.

“is it true?” mikey turns the volume beating a steady rhythm of his radio down, one hand placed neatly on the steering whilst the other jerks the shifter into third gear. his eyes peek from his raven strands, noticing the subtle movement of your legs.

“is what true?” you ask, innocently craning your head towards him and he twitches, feeling like he’s in the same shoes as the haitani brothers prodding questions that were personal—mikey shakes his head, “nevermind it isn’t important or my place.”

“i am a virgin” you sigh, mikey nervously grips the steering wheel, darting his eyes over to your skirt, hiking higher up your leg, he feels dirty letting thought’s sit in his mind, he shakes them away “don’t worry about it, yeah?”

your silent nod aids his guilty conscience while he turns into the street—headlights hitting the signs till you see your familiar apartments reaching the stars. mikey pulls into a vacant spot, yanking the parking brake and turning to you—you clear your throat, shaky fingers skimming across his arm “manjiro, i trust you” you feel the nervousness rushing through your body, struggling to keep eye contact with his black pupils.

“i want you to—” mikey leans closer, captivating the empty space between your faces, his hands cupping your cheeks “are you sure you want that?” he questions, knowing the answer you’re reeling out to him. he swallows the hard lump stuck in his throat, “i’m not going to lie—that i’ve wanted you in more ways then one since i first saw you but doing this because arrogant pricks pressure you, isn’t right.”

“mikey” you laugh, he furrows his brows in confusion, “since when was i mikey?” your fingers neatly grip against the back of his head, “shut up and kiss me.”

“breath” mikey whispers, ghosting his fingers over your body—within the timespan of lips connecting from his car to your front door, oxygen was the last thought on your mind.

you hadn’t made it to the bedroom, yet—crashing on the couch while his body crawled over you, laughter filled the room, jokes—weak attempts at cringe pickup lines and it feels more like two lovers stumbling into an old routine rather than your first time.

“can i touch you?” mikey flickers his eyes down between your legs, skirt bunched to your hips while his knee resigned close to your heat but never an attempt to push deeper—without your say so.

“but you’re touching me” your cheeks feel warm, the nerves prickling against your skin, mikey smiles “mh, i mean—” his feathers his pads lower down your leg till he reaches your clothed cunt, “—here.”

he smiles, lips curling upwards to a lazy grin when you gasp, he rubs down your fabric slit—his lips fade into a line parting with puffs of fluttering breaths as he struggles watching your face color peaks of bliss, he likes the way he can go slow—deliberately keep the pace without tipping over to destruction.

mikey usually dives headfirst, gets his cock stuffed so far in a warm set of legs and his back shadows through the door but with you—he can’t help but want to bask in the soft subtle moments, chest filling with warmth while his palm grows wet.

“m-more” you whimper, fingers gripping his shoulder blade and bucking your hips under his hand. mikey smooths down your hair with one hand bending down to press a kiss to your forehead while his other hand dips under your panties.

“fuck, you’re so wet pretty girl” mikey gasp, his finger slipping through your slick folds, “i wanna make you feel good—so fuckin’ good” mikey groans, running his fingers through your juices and drawing a soft circle on your clit.

“manjiro” your voice pulls him from the edge, his fingers messily playing with your puffy clit—the excess coating his lips, “what princess?” he brushes his nose against yours, gaze scanning over your face, “f-feels good, i think i’m gonna—god” you moan out, nails biting at his shoulder, his cock throbs as your coil snaps, heavy breaths exhaling from your lips—hips bucking to the orgasm rushing through your legs.

“you’re so pretty, so fucking beautiful” he hums, slowing his pace when you dwendle from your orgasm, pupils blown out and heavy breathing rising in your chest, “i want you so bad” you squeak, moving your hand over his prominent bulge and palming at it.

and he’s so pretty you think, screwing his eyes shut when you rub harder, fingers gripping his stiff length and rolling your digits over it—whatever you’ve seen of mikey before will never be the same after this, his cold exterior melting in your hands, how he softly whines for more, more of you—just you.

mikey usually fucks where he lays, doesn’t matter if it’s an alleyway, his office desk—the clean, new leather on his car. impatient for a quick fix, yet now he’s pulled along to your bedroom where lips meet, clothes discarded with need and bodies connecting with want.

he sits on the corner of your bed, completely bare with his throbbing cock pumping in his hand and the other on your hip watching your hands cover your body for some shield from his devouring eyes.

“don’t hide from me, you’re everything i’ve ever wanted” he whispers, tugging you closer to him—he gently grabs your wrist and guides your hand to his cock “i’ve never been so fucking hard,” he praises, feeling your warm hand grip him.

“nervous i guess” you whisper back, a deep warmth circling your face and mikey leans his hands forward cupping your cheeks, “nothing to be nervous about angel, i’m here—all for you.”

“come here” he adds, guiding you to the bed and you move to the sheets laying your head snug to the pillows, mikey turns around crawling over your body and settling between your legs. “you’re still so wet” he moans, leaning over with one hand cupping your pussy, nimble fingers making their way inside your clenching hole.

“does it hurt?” he takes the other hand and rubs a thumb across your warm cheeks, “you’re so perfect” he murmurs when you whimper for more, and his fingers make you feel so full—pumping slowly in your tight walls, adding another and scissoring at a slow pace.

“i want you, please” you plead, and he softens, not hearing the words so much—so often from someone, and it makes him feel so powerful, pride filtering his chest when there’s a desire for him and not his money, position or even his own life.

“i know princess and you can have all of me but i gotta make you feel good so it doesn’t hurt, yeah?” he crashes his lips on yours, moving his fingers faster till your toes curl, heels digging against the sheet and your coil burning hot.

“cum for me baby, show me how good i’m making you feel” mikey pulls his hand from your cheek, struggling to find ground at how sweet your perfect pussy sucks him in, he grips the headboard above him, curses leaving his throat when you cream around his digits, soft whispers of his name chanted through your lips.

he knows it’s the hardest part, watching your eyes contort into pain when he sinks his cock in, white knuckling the headboard whilst your tight walls engulf him—he watches, like slow motion dripping across his vision when mikey finally pushes all the way in, the deep breath held tightly in his throat gushing out his chest when he starts to move.

it hurts—a sting of pain throbbing but mikey—treats you like delicate glass, handling you so softly as if the jewel could shatter at any moment and he’d be there—gathering every single piece as his own.

“i can’t stop telling you how perfect you are” mikey gasps, your cunt clenching in response and hands flying up to grip his chest “for you manjiro, all for you” his grip tightens on the wood, “y-yeah princess, all for me” he rolls his hips, pulling your leg higher to your chest pumping his cock deeper in your hole.

the headboard smacks against the wall the deeper he thrusts, cock swelling with his release closing in around his head, “wanna cum for you—fill you up” mikey drags his eyes from his cock splitting your cunt open to your face, swiping his thumb on your bottom lip—feeling your tongue swirl around his digit, he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, tracing his thumb down your bare stomach till he’s at your clit circling it.

“cum for me, let me feel this pretty pussy cum for me—only me” mikey rolls his thumb, angling his cock to hit against your spongy spot, your thighs tremble around his hips and voice cracks with an audible moan, creaming his cock and juices dripping down to his balls.

mikey finally lets go—hard, so fucking hard watching your tits bounce, body crumbling under him, he can’t stop relishing in this feeling—euphoria tacted to his cum filling your hole.

“s-shit” he moans, letting his sensitive cock grind his cum deeper in you, “don’t wanna pull out, s’good for me” he slurs, sloppy strokes and white knocking against his eyes, mikey bends over leaving a sloppy kiss on your forehead.

as much as he hates to pull out, your sluggish eyes tell him sleep has invaded your body—he crawls from above you to nestle behind your body, arms wrapping around you and pulling the covers over both of your bodies.

“do you have to leave now?” you question, gloom hangs above your body, reality settling in your bones. “i want to stay” he whispers, brushing his nose deeper in your neck, “if possible, forever.”

taglist! — @hertani @toyomitsus @yunxbin @misinfe @my-tasteful-muses @hoebirama7 @mvkimas @shinichirosupremacy @saturnmitsuya @yut-aa-a @manjirosdoll @solzu @passionateuchiha @meena-in-a-nutshell @blueparadis @liquefied-cat @regina-com @notsocoolnana @obitology @sanzuswh0re @wakasa-wifey (strikethrough means i couldn’t tag u!)