#I drew this in an envelope oops

[peterspinkrobe]

Confession - priest!Miguel O’Hara x Reader [part 2]

Word count: 2,270 (oops)

Rating: mature for suggestive content. Mentions of masturbation. You have a dirty mind… tsk tsk. Religious content. Mentions of parental death (sorry for not tagging last time).

A/N: Thank you for your feral support in reading part 1! The art above is again by @Ejpuki on twt. They drew this moment from part one and JUST LOOK AT IT! They also did a pre-reading which I greatly appreciated. Go support them over there <3 I only tagged the people who explicitly stated bc I don’t want to overstep. Also, I guess I should watch Fleabag? Enjoy! part three is cookin’ in my noggin’

// Psalms 32:3-4

When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy on me;

Rumbling sounds drone from the engine in a constant hum as the bus wheels roll down the asphalt, occasionally shuffling the passengers inside. Yourself included.

The wheels in your mind are conjuring images of too much skin, friction, and want. The mental pictures… different positions and other things that you’ve only read about - all featuring the same tall deacon from your small church.

You curse yourself for both your overactive imagination and forgetfulness for having left your headphones at home. Some loud music would drown out the whir of the bus and push out the flashes of lewdness that plagued you.

Reverend O’Hara, you learned that’s what transitional deacons are usually called after inquiring about the proper title on Google the second you got home from that communion, occupied the majority of your mind. He took up residence in your thoughts without even asking permission and you didn’t know the proper way to absolve your sanity of him. It had only been two weeks since you’d met him, two Sunday services, but you were hooked. This trip into the city was supposed to get you out of the house and help clear your mind of its recent inhabitant.

The methods you were currently using were certainly of no help. Nearly every night, for the past two weeks, you’d given into temptation. Allowing the streaking images of what you could only envision his toned body looked like to remain longer in your mind’s eye. His thumb on your lip, the quick swipe across - became more inquisitive of the inside of your mouth in your imagination. You pressed into yourself and thought of those long, thick fingers. You carried yourself away on highs with only his hands in mind. You yearned to baptize him in your waters.

You buried fingernails into your palms to ground yourself as the scenery outside the bus began the change drastically, pulling you out of your daydream.

Your hometown along the Catskill Mountains was enveloped by the natural world - tucked into valleys of the vast countryside. In the three weeks you’d been back home, you had already gotten used to surrounding greenery. You’d forgotten the toll that city expansion was having on the rows of vegetable and orchard farms in the surrounding areas.

Your gaze out the window watched tree lines and grassy hills give way to glimmers of futuristic architecture as the bus entered Nueva York. The rhythm of wheels on tarmac became a backdrop to the din of honking horns, shouting pedestrians, and blaring sirens. You had only recently left a city not too different from this one, but the drastic change in landscape from the mountains made your head spin. The inertia of the bus braking and accelerating over and over on the intersecting streets only added to the motion sickness. You recognize the next stop as the usual one you and your mother used when coming into the city. You quickly get off the bus, blessing the steady ground underneath as your boots hit the pavement.

Towering structures of carbon fiber and glass dominated the skyline, some illuminated by bright neon light displays, others blending into the afternoon sunshine. Advertisements for fast foods, fast money, and fast cars flickered on screens everywhere. You look to where the bus carried you from and, in contrast, the countryside stretched out, calling you back. Despite the slight familiarity in the maze of metal, the sudden change in surroundings made you slightly anxious.

The steady stream of citizens didn’t help your nerves either. You take a moment to get yourself together before following the foot traffic flow up a familiar street.

Your eyes recognize a food spot from a bygone era and you can’t help but smile. You picked up the pace as you headed to the establishment your family used to frequent. Timeless Treats is still here?! You pull on the long handled door and a wave of music, chatter, and sugar hit you at once. Much more pleasant than the waves of anxiety from moments before.

Entering the quaint eatery, you’re transported into a cozy atmosphere reminiscent of an old fashioned diner. A cheerful man at the front waves you in and shouts for you to ‘sit where ya want!’.

You recognized the vintage decor: rusted signs with cartoon mascots and ads for ice cream floats that cost only $2. Imagine! You select one of the smaller retro tables with two stools and hear a jukebox play a song you don’t recognize but tap your foot along to.

There was more to this diner than what it seems at first glance. A few more glances noticed the subtle touches where the diner had embraced the future where it mattered, with high-tech kitchen appliances that helped the staff immensely. A holographic menu pops up across the portion of the table you're sitting at and you slide your finger along the options.

This bakery specialized in delicious treats with a futuristic flare, with many favorites being popular since the establishment opened generations ago. Your eyes fell onto the pastry menu and your curiosity piqued as you ordered the ‘Time Traveler’s Torta.’

All the hustle of the city had occupied your mind until you were sitting alone at the table. Your eyes scanned the other occupants and you wondered what they were all talking about with their sugary sweets. It made you think of him again.

Dammit. A whole ten minutes without thinking of Reverend O’Hara, that’s a record! You couldn’t help the images of Miguel that fluttered now. Only this time you pictured him sitting at the table with you. The two of you share a dessert and you smile at the thought. You visualize his thumb coming to your face to wipe whipped cream from your lips only to plop the finger into his own mouth. That moment as mass replayed in your mind with differing flavors of spice on repeat.

The torta arrives and you gawk at the presentation of the treat. A classic cake with layers of light vanilla sponge, intricately placed swirls of sweet cream cheese frosting, and decadent chocolate sauce. This sweet was the perfect balance of timeless and futuristic as it sat on an oblong, ornate plate.

You savored the flavors as you ate and continued to imagine a date with the deacon. You ask yourself if deacons can even date and the thought pulls you out of your delusions for a moment. Get it together…

As you scooped the last bits of the pastry into your mouth, you pondered your dilemma. Mom always said that confession cleared a clouded consciousness, but there was no way you’d divulge this information to her. Her hypothetical reaction to your crush on a clergy member makes you shiver.

An idea comes to mind that makes you think to yourself that you’ve really gone mad.

The madness pushes you from your seat after paying for the dessert. There’s a slim chance what you’re looking for is actually there considering the cities expansions. That doubt doesn’t stop you from following a semi-recognizable path down the busy streets.

Every tall figure you pass makes you do a double take. The idea of the deacon brushing alongside you making you smile. You turn a corner as your imagination creates sweet scenarios with Reverend O’Hara and stop in your tracks. You cause people behind you to push into your back and spit harsh murmurs at you.

It was still there.

You were surprised for good reason. You were headed towards a relic of past times, nestled between buildings of glass and metal. There was some scaffolding supporting it as the building you headed towards was centuries old. Other than that - the structure you now stood and stared at jutted towards the sky in the old brick and mortar style you were used to seeing in your hometown.

But the Cathedral of Nueva York wasn’t like the humble church in your hometown. The ornate bell tower and large cross atop the chapel in front of you proved that. The only thing to change about the building was the name as the state itself saw many changes a few decades ago - including the name of the actual city.

You find yourself reminiscing on the few times you’d been to the church as you walked inside. Your family used to attend the fancy Easter services and Christmas plays. Those trips stopped after your father passed, and your mother rarely came to the city at all anymore. You remember seeing pictures of them on their wedding day at this very church. Priesthood is a tight knit group and Father Steen knew the head priest, who extended their church for their wedding services.

Given it was a weekday afternoon, there weren’t many souls inside. Despite the numerous options for seating, you sat in your usual middle pew, aisle seat.

You eyed the part of the church that had brought you here in the first place. The confession booth. Its cherrywood exterior made you think of those eyes that bore into yours that day of communion. You shake your head but the visual remains.

The church in your hometown didn’t have a confessional booth. Even if they did - why the hell would you confess there? To the subject of your lustful desires? So many questions and doubts enter your mind.

Could you really do this? Confess to a priest that you pined over a man in his chaste brotherhood? Think of the judgment!

Another thought occurs to you: their whole shtick was that only one entity could do the judging. And it was confidential. If you received some good ol’ fashioned Catholic scolding and Hail Mary’s, maybe that would be enough to get you back to your senses. Reverend O’Hara is a man devoted to God and cannot be hindered by the whims of a degenerate like yourself.

Emboldened by the potential to relieve yourself of your corrupt thoughts, you stand and approach the far right front of the church. The confessional is smaller than it looked from how you remember as a child and teen but it doesn’t stop you from nearly yanking the door open. You don’t even knock.

Thankfully no one is on the confessing side as you burst into the tiny box. The confined space became even smaller as you closed the door behind you quickly. Your mind races towards impure thoughts of the deacon pressed against you in the tight booth space. His height would force him to bend slightly over you and the visual almost knocks you onto the bench which would probably be right at crotch level…

You remember the times you’d done this before and cry out the usual, “Forgive me, for I have sinned and it has been many years since my last confession…”. Who were you even asking for forgiveness? You think for a moment about the last time you were in this booth. You felt so guilty about stealing from the general store all those years back. This was a different kind of confession. This would hopefully absolve yourself of the sinful attraction to the forbidden.

You start light, fumbling over the words, “I’ve gotten drunk and high, uh, a good bit while in college. I lied to my mother and got into major trouble as a result. I’ve been selfish and lazy.”

The anonymity and the release of it all lit a fire under you and you kept going.

“While I’m in this confession booth, and I know it is a sacred and holy place”, you sigh and hear shuffling on the opposite side of the wall, the priest waiting patiently on the other side. “I’ve been struggling with my faith and don’t believe in god…”

You hear the clergyman start to interject but the voice that comes out of you has a fierce tone.

“I’m not done.” Now it was the priest’s turn to sigh and you see movement through the small slits in the partition, but hear nothing else. You continue. The most scandalous part to admit had yet to be said.

“Father, I’ve been lustful over the deacon at my church.” There’s silence on the other end and before embarrassment can take over you continue, “I’m constantly thinking of him and having impure thoughts that drive me to-“ oh god, here it is

“Touch myself. Daily. With this deacon on my mind.” You can’t stop the heat from painting your cheeks a deep red.

“I feel guilty because he isn’t for me to think that way about. From just the two times I’ve seen him, I know he is a good man who does good things. He’s on a path towards righteousness. He’s worthy.” To your shock, you feel tears form and they begin to fall.

“I’m a sinful nonbeliever. Definitely not someone he could be with, unworthy of devotion of any kind. And I’m not good.” Your breathing becomes shaky as the tears fall harder. Despite the fact that you feel your words are the truth, you can’t help but imagine him there now. Comforting you as you cry.

Now that you’ve finished confession, you expect to hear an outburst of disapproval or at least ‘50 Hail Mary’s’ to absolve you of your confessed transgressions.

But that’s not what you heard next.

You hear your name. You hear your name in that sweet music that’s been ringing in your ears the last week or so. This time the musical tone is cautious. Your mouth hangs open in disbelief as your eyes glue to the wall where the music came from.

To confirm your suspicions, you grab the knob on the partition and yank it back.

Through the small window you see a familiar pair of eyes analyzing your face, heavy with worry.

Reverend O’Hara had just taken your confession…

I pray you liked this, dear reader.

Tagged ppl - @friendlynbhdzero @ceoofghosts it won’t let me tag you @hoelychildofgod

[mngo-jii]

LagakKAHAKAHKAHALHEEHGREGRGGRHEHEHEHQLANAJohwosz

“ FROM THE START. ” d. page

synopsis: (inspired by “from the start” by laufey!)—alas, you drown yourself in the daydreams to avoid the pain and reality of them never coming true. it hurts, but puppy love is fun! the magnetic pull he has on you is undoubtedly stronger than your will to accept things won't turn out the way you want it to be.

tags/warnings: angst/fluff, pining, hopelessly in love reader, kind of ooc Daniel—it's to feed your delusions ☠️, you two aren't 1st years anymore here! i don't think i proofread this enough uh

wc: 1.6k

letter ✉️: ok I GOT YOU DAMN. such ravenous beasts. this person asked for daniel angst 😭 i'll work on that next so you can leave me alone /j

There are times when you truly, really want to disintegrate into the ground out of shame.

Such as the nights when you squeal into your pillow after daydreaming ridiculous little scenarios that will never occur.

Times like when you humiliate yourself in front of him and sink into the floor of your bedroom.

Or instances where you witness Robyn and Kevin have moments of which you could only dream of happening to you.

And especially times when you realise that it's getting harder each day to remain best friends with Daniel Page.

You're not at blame! It's his fault, if anything. Him and his unshakable and peculiar charm. Him and his pretty smile he so seldom flashes. Everything. Oh how you wonder why his pull on you is so strong.

It's ironic—how you managed to take down such an extremely potent creature in the Forbidden forest, yet you can't fight this meek little crush. It makes you feel a little silly.

When Daniel was gravely hurt on the grass two weeks ago, you had to combat a perilous beast by yourself to keep him protected.

After you had defeated it, he had shoved you to the ground, and you could tell by the frustration on Daniel's face that he wanted to be mad at you and call you a fool for having put up such a struggle, straining yourself to the limit, all to defend him when you ought to have fled for help.

But all he did was haplessly envelop you and bury his head in the crook of your neck. You two didn't appear to mind that you were covered in blood, sweat, and dirt. He breathes an apology against your skin, as if all of this was his fault.

In addition to being severely punished for invading the woods without authorization, you two were lauded for your bravery and commitment.

You not only managed to (barely) preserve yourselves, but you also saved Hogwarts from a potential threat if not for that particular night. Evidently, the enemy you faced wasn't even intended to be in the area you had visited; instead, it should have been hiding farther within the forest. It could have gotten near Hogwarts and mauled anyone it first saw.

The next day, you received a mix of praise and jabs, with comments on either your bravery or folly.

Stares followed as you roamed the halls. All you wanted to do was get this day over with and sink into your bed. To Daniel's dismay, both of you received nonstop attention.

A bunch of first-year students once enclosed you and started asking you questions all at once, which made it impossible for you to even begin to respond. But even so, one query in particular caught your attention—

"So are you two, like, dating? Is he your boyfriend?", one of them had asked.

You stared, heart virtually pounding out of your chest as you regarded the first-year. You opened your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by your so-called boyfriend.

"No, we're not," Daniel pushed through the students and grabbed ahold on your arm, "Leave us alone."

The first-years cried out when Daniel drew you away from the group, explicitly telling you that Dumbledore wanted to speak to both of you.

And you can't even process what he had said because you're staring at his hand around your wrist— Consequently, you made a fool of yourself when you were surprised to see Dumbledore. Oops.

The exact moment you had realised your feelings were becoming more and more ingrained in you day by day, every cell in your body pleaded with you to get closer to Daniel—but you won't budge.

Everything seemed to draw you towards him, yet you had grown too timid and weren't as at ease with Daniel as you had been before your emotions for him began to snowball.

It was odd, of course. Suspicions arose as to why you suddenly felt anxious and bashful talking to your best friend of all people. How you suddenly get quiet when there's no one else around.

You, him, and awkward silence had started to form into some sort of trio that you weren't too fond of.

Are you two still best friends at this point? Though the way you would question yourself about it is in an entirely different tone.

You feel a bit bad about your sudden introversion, feeling as though your emotions are sabotaging your friendship held by the iron group of the world. And you can't help but ponder about how much things would worsen if you were to confess.

As a result, you continuously find yourself drifting through an endless reverie. You've criticised your delusions on occasion, but just in jest and with no sincere worry.

It had been something you've grown so used to now, that you almost found yourself out of the circle of shyness you previously were in. And Daniel was definitely relaxed to see his best friend back to normal.

Still, the beating of your heart couldn't be helped every time you spoke to him. Oftentimes you would stammer when you hold eye contact longer than a few seconds. Nothing helps at all.

You feel like a loon during the times you'd happily bounce your feet on your bed, but your happiness takes over—entirely wrapped around Daniel's modest act of giving you his corduroy jacket to keep warm that night. And your roommates would cast you worn-out glances, not bothering to scold you anymore.

Not to mention when Daniel pulled out an Amortentia one certain trip to the Forbidden forest. And you spent that night staring at your dormitory ceiling, pondering on why in the world would he be carrying such a concoction.

Of course, he'd never use the sort. But you pshhed at him in your mind, stating matter-of-factly that you wouldn't need it. As if it would have been for you.

Daniel always has your back—that's something that you wouldn't need to be reminded of, unless you want to eat at it further.

Sometimes, he would whisper answers to you when you're called on to answer a question you don't know—while he'd reject anyone else who'd ask him for homework answers.

He'd quickly take notice of how you seem under the weather in class, and offer to assist you in getting to Hospital Wing. He asks questions to the teacher on your behalf when you're too scared. He'd shoot you a small smile from across the room if ever your eyes met...

And when he asked you to dance, you couldn't bring yourself to utter a single word. He so freely spoke to you as you two spun—you, on the other hand, averted your eyes. Oh you could go on and on.

And to you, it's ridiculous how you're acting so timid, when you would expect Daniel to be the one at that state!

He treats you like no one else, while he wouldn't even bat an eyelash at anyone else besides your friends.

Maybe, just maybe, the possibilities are better than you anticipated. Maybe one day all the things you so longingly imagine when floating on a cloud will come true. Truly, who could blame you?

He doesn't even deny caring about you like he used to during the first few months of your friendship. That's how special he's treating you! And it's unfair.

You might just want him to stop sometimes. Stop, because despite all your illusions, you still have some connection to reality. You certainly don't need any more reminders that he doesn't feel the same. Nevertheless, you wouldn't dare give up this particular treatment for anything.

Your other friends would even point at you accusatorily and refer to you as Daniel's favourite. And Daniel would cast a glance over them confirming it himself.

"Of course," He says, "You're just not [Y/N]." You could have sworn an angel was right by your side at that very time.

Oh the things that happen every day don't help you at all.

However, there are times where you want to collapse onto the ground.

Like times where he'd grimace at people who'd ask if you two "have something going on," and he'd icily tell them you're nothing more than loyal friends; you do your best to conceal how it stung.

Like the time where he stated matter-of-factly that he isn't looking for anyone to enter a romantic relationship with.

Or the times where he'd isolate himself from everyone, including you. No, especially you. Wondering if he's doing so because he knows how you feel and he can't reciprocate for hours on end.

But maybe it doesn't matter. As long as you always get to be the only one to see Daniel's true smiles, and the way you can internally fawn over the way he looks at you knowing deep down that it's nothing special.

You're the only one Daniel would dance with even if it's just a mere little favour, and someone Daniel wouldn't particularly reject if you asked him to dance yourself.

You're someone Daniel trusts with his entire life, you're someone Daniel would never doubt or need to worry about because you're you—his best friend. And you'd do everything to live out the rest of your days with that title. It's better to be something, than be nothing with him.

And that's all that matters. That and the nights you would happily drift into a state of daydreaming and overanalysing every thing he had done for you—things that's only reach to a certain extent of bare minimum.

At the end of the day, you two would still smile at each other like silly highschool sweethearts. And everyone would constantly tease you for it, much to Daniel's dismay.

a/n: in laufey's words, it's “the ultimate friends to lovers song for all your delusional daydreams”

[entropy-game-dev]

I've got the foundations for some fancy new tutorial popups! These are full screen overlays that display a title, an image (which is currently a robot placeholder), some text, and a transparent window that highlights the relevant feature being talked about.

Speaking of the transparent window, I tried a couple of different ways to display this including a blendmode and a shader solution, but due to the CRT/glitch shader that I am using that envelops the whole screen, the best solution I found was to use a series of black squares that encircle (ensquare?) the target location.

I drew up an MS paint picture to help me figure it out, then realised I could just use one long rectangle each at the top and bottom instead of 3... oops!

Nevertheless, I'm proud enough of my smallbrain picture that I'm going to post it here! It was still helpful to work out what the coordinates of each rectangle should be (the black one being the transparent window coordinates), just that the red/orange/yellow and blue/pink/purple ones got combined together.

[rubynationwins]

Touch Me

Random late night drabble (Just a lot of angst oops):

It’s hard.

To want so badly to reach out and touch someone who’s only inches away. To wrap them up in your arms and vice versa without being able to. It’s hard to want him to touch you. To hold you.

You don’t know when it started, but you couldn’t stop the desire for him to envelop you in his strong arms like they’re a safe haven from the shittyness of the world. All you could do was crave his embrace and avoid his gaze lest it gave away your desires.

It felt wrong, to crave what didn’t belong to you. You knew there was no way he ever would, he wasn’t interested in that type of intimacy with anyone, and certainly not with you of all people.

You could just imagine his shocked reaction if you were to come up behind him and hug him to you, he’d probably jump away and never look at you again. But it’s all you can think about; his touch, his warmth, his embrace. You’d gotten a hint of it months ago, when he’d been so tired from his sleepless terror filled nights that he pulled you into his arms and kept you there all night. You’d just been sitting beside him on the couch in your room talking about nothing when he’d rested his head on your shoulder, his metal arm wrapped around your soft middle and pulled you into him. He’d nuzzled into your neck, inhaling your scent, and the next thing you knew, he was sound asleep with you in his arms. You were shocked but didn’t do anything. It felt nice, to bask in his sweet embrace.

Maybe that was when this overwhelming need for his touch took over. You didn’t know what to do so you drew back instead, thinking it was the best way to respect his supposed boundaries and keep yourself from pouncing on him.

But it was so hard to avoid his touch. The fleeting grazes of your hands when in close proximity and the hand to hand combat training in the gym set your neurons aflame. If anything, they worsened your longing for the actual pressure of his body against yours.

All you could do though was keep moving forward, try to forget the heat of his fingers on your wrist or his thighs on either side of your hips when he pinned you in a match. You couldn’t help the shiver that ran down your spine at that last memory.

No.

You would stay strong, you didn’t need anyone, let alone the simple presence of a certain super soldier. Your couldn’t rely on people, they left you, the disappointed you, they betrayed you. If he did any of those you’d crumble into a thousand touch starved pieces. So that’s why you couldn’t be near him, no matter how much you wanted to leap into his arms. Sometimes, when you caught his eyes on you when you weren’t paying attention you got some hope. But your realistic self stomped it out. You can’t rely on anyone besides yourself. You couldn’t expect him to reciprocate any of your desires, so you didn’t.

So you’d stay that way. Wrestling with an embrace that would never come. That’s just the way it had to be.

A/N: I wrote this all in 1 sitting & am posting it w/o any editing. Don’t expect a part 2 bc there almost definitely won’t be one (sry?) I just wanted to drop some random angst b4 going to bed😋 so goodnight!

[anti-workshop]

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[ink-n-shadowfiction]

Request - a headcanon or fic for Ian and Mickey realising their lease is up on the West Side apartment and they have to decide whether or not to stay. Or… their first official date night on the West Side. 💖

Eviction | Gallavich

pairing: Ian Gallagher x Mickey Milkovich

genre: slight angst/eventual fluff (shitty ending but i'm too tired to fix it)

word count: 1118ish

note: i kinda took this into a little bit of an angsty direction so i might rewrite this later but anyway－ (also apologies for going MIA again oops)

The red 'EVICTION NOTICE' stamp was the first thing Ian had noticed after Mickey carelessly tossed their mail on the kitchen counter.

"Hold up－" Ian pulled the envelope in question from the pile and held it close to his face, almost as if it was written in code. "Mick, I thought we paid our rent for the month."

Mickey sidled up to Ian's side, arm coming to loop comfortably around the taller man's midsection. "Thought I did－I took the check to that fucking office lady downstairs and everything."

There was a pause while Ian hurriedly ripped open the envelope and rifled through its contents, eyes scanning over the words quicker than Mickey could keep up with. He was barely past the 'Dear tenants...' part of the letter whenever Ian tossed it back onto the counter in defeat, knuckles immediately digging into his eyes anxiously.

Mickey forced Ian's back against the edge of the kitchen counter as his hands encompassed his husband's, uncovering the now watery green eyes staring back at him and soothingly petting at his cheek. "Hey, chill out, Gallagher. No need to get all anxious and shit, 'ight? I'll just go downstairs and talk to－"

"No! Mick, that's the fucking problem. The check bounced. If the check bounced, that means we don't have enough money in the account－which means we can't afford rent this month." Ian's chest was rising and falling in anxious, panicked breaths as he yanked his hands from Mickey's grip and started combing through his ginger hair. "I－I thought you said that that job was fucking legit!"

"It was! I..." Mickey turned on the ball of his foot as his eyes began scanning his surroundings, the gears of his brain spinning a mile a minute. "I thought it was." Maybe he had gotten the hourly rate wrong－it wouldn't be the first time Mickey struggled with math. But this was the first time that that lack of skill had him worried.

Ian had put his heart and soul into this West Side apartment, and it was finally starting to look like a real home. A photo of him and Mickey from their wedding reception hung delicately in the front hallway, beneath it a shoe rack full of old sneakers and a vanilla-scented candle Mickey swiped from a Marshall's. They even had scrounged up enough money to furnish the living and dining rooms, which simply consisted of some bare-bone table and chairs alongside a foldout sofa Ian was able to find on Facebook Marketplace. It wasn't a lot－especially not for a West Side apartment－but it was at least theirs. Ian couldn't begin to imagine having to pack it all up and move back in with Debbie and Lip. He couldn't imagine having to be back in that house again.

The sound of feet shuffling drew Ian out of his anxious spiral, his vision coming back into focus to see Mickey tousling his hair in the front hallway mirror. He had put on a white muscle tank with a pair of black sweatpants slung low across his hips. If the circumstances had been different, maybe Ian would be reacting differently.

"Mick－c'mon, might as well just start packing now." Ian stretched his hand out, frowning when his husband moved past him quickly without any acknowledgment. His anxiety morphed into annoyance. "Where the fuck're you going?"

"I'm just gonna go talk to the office lady. Shouldn't take me too long," Mickey muttered as he patted down his pants pockets, pressing a absentminded kiss onto the redhead's cheek before his head swiveled around the kitchen. "Have you seen my fucking keys?"

.................................................

Ian was halfway through writing a sappy text message to both Debbie and Lip, trying to explain the situation as best as he could without completely throwing his husband under the bus. He was about to hit send when the door busted open, Mickey padding inside with a soft smile and an armful of some takeout containers. “Mick—we had leftovers here. Why’d you—”

“Shut up. I got your favorite, so don’t give me that fuckin’ lip, ‘lright?” Mickey’s words seemed harsh, but the way his lips wore a soft smile made it known that it was all teasing.

Mickey made his way over to where Ian was sprawled out on the couch, setting the takeout containers onto the coffee table and pushing it closer so the redhead could reach it.

As he watched Ian wearily tear into the plastic bag, Mickey moved to set his keys onto the kitchen counter. “Got the rent stuff figured out too.” He said absentmindedly, as though it was no big deal. Mickey knew that Ian wasn’t going to react to it that way though.

“What did you do, Mick?” Ian asked slowly, eyes meeting his husband’s as he stopped opening the styrofoam container. “God, please tell me you didn’t tear that poor lady’s office down.”

Mickey groaned as he joined Ian on the couch, taking one of the styrofoam contains into his lap before kicking his boots up onto the coffee table. "Oh Jesus Christ—my husband has no faith in me. No, I didn't tear that woman's office apart. So relax and enjoy your food, 'kay Red?"

It was calm and quiet for a moment, the two of them eating their dinner in comfortable silence and listening to the storm outside as it began to pour. Mickey let out a soft sigh, knowing by the way Ian's eyebrows were knit together that his husband was still thinking about it.

"I just explained the situation to her, told her I'd get the rest of the money to her tomorrow. She said don't let it happen again. Happy?" Mickey explained as he reached over, stealing a french fry from Ian's container before leaning back against the leather of the couch.

Ian didn't object, instead leaning back with Mickey and chewing his food thoughtfully. "So what—that's it? How're you gonna come up with the rest of the money so quick?"

Mickey set the takeout container onto the coffee table as he swung his legs back down to the floor, fingers moving to untie the laces before toeing off his boots. "I called Frank. He's gonna let me work a quick shift at the Alibi tomorrow—should be enough to cover the difference."

Once his boots were off and on the floor, Mickey shifted in his spot on the couch to face Ian, laying one arm across the back of the couch and letting the other lay in his lap. "Now c'mon, stop being so worried and pissy at me. Please? I bought your favorite food and everything."

As much as Ian wanted to fight it, he couldn't help the soft smile that stretched across his lips as he took another bite of food. "Alright—fine. You're outta the doghouse f'now. But next time? Let me handle the money, alright?"

[arc-misadventures]

I keep deleting the asks by accident…

A Stuttering Confession

Velvet: S-S-Sooo…? I-I-I was wondering… I-If you’re not to b-busy… If you’d like… If you’d like… well… actually I was really wondering if… if… I-I-If… WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO OUT WITH ME?!!

: Mmm… No.

Velvet: What?! Why?!

: Because my little BunBun~! That was~ pathetic… utterly pathetic. It was cute; the shy stuttering bunny is adorable~! But, sad, really sad…

Velvet: Jeeeeanne! You’re supposed to be helping me!

Jeanne: I am helping you; look I even dressed up like, Coco!

Velvet looked over Jeanne’s attire; White high heel boots with gold buckles, tight black jeans that highlighted the shape of her long legs. A red sash wrapped around her waist, widing the slim waist of hers, and her upper body was clad in a white dress shirt with rolled up sleeves. A grey vest with golden embroidery enveloped her torso as it showed off her wide, full chest. Lip gloss letting highlighting her luscious lips as she drew a confident smirk towards the shy bunny. A white, and gold trimmed beret rested upon her head as she gazed upon the bunny behind white, with gold strips sunglasses.

Velvet: I hope she doesn’t see you like that…

Jeanne: Because I look better than her~?

Velvet: That’s b-besides the point…

Jeanne: Like hell it is~! Alright teasing aside. You’re not going to have any luck asking, Coco out if you keep acting like this! Grow a spine you chicken!

Velvet: I’m trying! It’s just so hard…

Jeanne: Because, Coco has such an overpowering presence that the shy little bunny wabit can’t handle it, hmm~?

Velvet: Ahhh…!!!

Velvet: …

Velvet: yess…

Jeanne: Haa… Velvet, listen… I want help, I really do. I think you two would make a great couple.

Velvet: You do?

Jeanne: I really do. However, I’m not very certain on your chances if you keep acting like this! Grow a spine already girl! Where’s the fearsome, Grimm Slayer that I know you are?!

Velvet: I rather be Grimm slaying than this…

Jeanne: Because if you fail, you can just kill the Grimm)

Velvet: Yes…?

Jeanne: Fool!

(Jeanne light slaps Velvet’s cheek.)

Velvet: Ah?!!

Jeanne: If you fail against fighting Grimm, it means you’re dead!

Velvet: Ahh…!

Velvet: …

Velvet: Crap…

Jeanne: Yeah, that’s what I thought.

Velvet: Do you think it would be better if, Coco confessed to me instead?

Jeanne: Ehh… It would get done… But…

Velvet: But…?

Jeanne: But, you wouldn’t survive…

Velvet: What?! What do you mean by that?!

Jeanne: What I mean is~!

(Slam!)

Velvet: EEP?!

Velvet was forced against the wall, Jeanne placed her arm near her head as she leaned over her, he gloved hand reaching up, and grabbing, Velvet’s chin forcing her to stare into her eyes over the rim of her glasses.

Jeanne: Because she would force you against the wall just like this~! She’d hold your face in her hand like so~! And, tells you how much she loves you…

Velvet: Eh…?

Jeanne: How much she desires you~!

Velvet: E-E-Ehhh!!!

Jeanne: And, how much she really wants to hop her little Bun-Bun~!

Velvet: EHHHHHH!!!

Velvet drops to the floor, her face burning in a fierce blush as she hid her face with her hands, and ears.

Jeanne: Annnd, this would happen…

Velvet: S-S-She would?!! I-I-I!! H-Help?!

Jeanne: Haa… Like I said, if… By some chance! If, Coco liked you back, and she confessed to you, it will kill you.

Velvet: M-M-Ma?! H-Help?!

Jeanne: Oops… I think I broke her…

: HEY!

Jeanne: Hmm?

: Get away from my, Bun-Bun you… Eh? Jeanne? Is that you?

Jeanne: Hey, Mocha! Looking flawless as always.

Coco: Oh, thanks, Angel. But, what’s with the get up?

Jeanne: Just seeing if I can copy your style; what do you think~?

Coco: Oh, you look fantastic~! The, Adel style is not one just anyone can wear. But you… Mmm~! You pull it off well, dear!

Jeanne: Oh, Thanks~!

Coco: So, why are you tormenting my, Bun-Bun?

Jeanne: Mmm? Oh! Just… Just showing her I could pull a convincing, Coco act.

Coco: Can you?

Jeanne: Well… I think I broke, Velvet…

Coco: Hmm? Oh don’t worry, she’ll be fine… eventually…

Jeanne: Well then, as for playing you, you tell me~?

(Smack!)

Coco: Ohhh~!

Jeanne: Oh! Sorry, did I spank you too hard?

Coco: No no, it all fine, Angel. All fine.

Jeanne: Oh, in that case…

Jeanne leaned closer to whisper in, Coco’s ear.

Jeanne: I’ll make sure I’m a little harder next time~!

Coco: Ah-ha~? Well, I’m looking forward to it then~!

Jeanne: My pleasure, Mo… (Ping~!) Hmm? Huw…?

Coco: What’s wrong?

Jeanne: Pyrros, just shoved Yin’s head through a wall…?

Coco: Eh?

Jeanne: Beats me. I Best go check up on them. I’ll see you later.

Coco: Bye-bye, Angel~!

Coco: Now then… What should I do with you?

Velvet: Coco…

Coco: What’s up, Bun-Bun?

Velvet: I think I just developed a crush on, Jeanne…

Coco: Ha… Welcome to the club, Velvet…

Velvet: Oh… okay then…

Coco: No, seriously, there is a fan club for her. I’m a member myself, in charge of fashion~!

Velvet: You are?

Coco: Indeed I am! No way in hell I’m wearing some lame black robe…

Velvet: Oh… can I join then…?

Coco: Hehehe~! The more the merry it is then~!

[monstersplaybook]

Homecoming: Pt. 2

Kira sat in the alcove beneath the living room’s bay window to peer out at the stylish mystery man speaking to her father. She closed the wrinkled, beige curtains behind her, creating a makeshift hideout from the rest of her family as she spied on the two men outside. They were a stark contrast to one another: her father the picture of suburbia with his khaki slacks and striped polo shirt, while the mystery man was all haughty sophistication with his silk pocket square and immaculately combed hair.

She watched as the man’s burly driver stepped forward, procuring a thick envelope from her suit jacket, and handed it over to him. The gentleman gestured calmly to the bundle in his hands before holding it out for her father to inspect. He peeked into the envelope, staring at its contents with widening eyes.

“Well, your mob theory seems a bit more likely now, doesn’t it?” Anna asked, keeping her voice to a low whisper. Kira didn’t answer, and instead nodded her head absentmindedly. “What do you think they’re saying?”

To her extreme disappointment, Kira had no clue and kept scooching ever closer to the window attempting to hear something, until eventually, her breath was fogging up the window pane. Unfortunately, the thick glass morphed any outside noise into a cartoonish “wah-wah” sound that reminded Kira of a Peanuts telephone call.

“Ugh, I can’t hear anything,” Kira sighed with frustration as her father shut the envelope and eyed the mystery man with a furrowed brow.

Anna looked from the window pane to Kira with a spark of mischief in her eye, “Then DO something about it.” Anna mimed cranking open a window and gave her an encouraging nod.

Despite her faint trembling, she reached forward to unlock the window. At the sound of the window unlatching, an image flashed in her mind of her father’s red and blotchy face if he were to catch her spying. She drew in a sharp breath and started to withdraw her hand as the tightness in her chest became entirely too much to bear. But then, an image of a storm cloud flooded her mind. Setting her mouth in a hard line she grasped the handle and cranked it once to crack open the window.

“I don’t know…” her father trailed off, crossing his arms.

The tall, thin man gestured to the envelope her father was clutching far too tightly and fixed him with a discerning gaze, “I assure you it's all there. And it appears you've already made your decision.” He cocked his head to the side as her father grunted something unintelligible and gave an almost imperceptible nod.  

“We’ll need a minute.” Her father said with gravel in his voice.

The man grimaced at her father and shook his head, “No, that won’t be necessary.” He turned his gaze to the red, Chevrolet Conversion van and then back to her father. “Arrangements have been made.”

The man took a step closer to her father, partially shielding himself from Kira’s view as he muttered something. Desperate to hear what they were saying, Kira leaned forward a bit too fast and bumped her head against the window pane. Thud. Kira shook her head, momentarily dazed and turned to look at Anna who was gritting her teeth as if to say, “Oops.”

Both her father and the mystery man turned to the window and locked eyes with Kira. Her father’s jaw clenched, sending a shiver down her spine. But to her surprise, he only drew in one deep breath before lowering his gaze to the ground in... resignation, anger, shame? She wasn't sure which.

The mystery man, however, pulled his shoulders back to straighten his posture as he fixed his attention upon Kira. His eyes narrowed as he studied her, causing her to shrink back from the window at the sudden attention. She was good at looking small and unimportant. She'd had plenty of practice retreating into the shadows where she often hid from the man she called Father. Something flickered in the mysterious man's eyes for just a moment that she found herself wondering if she'd imagined it. And then, as if he were suddenly bored, the man shifted his apathetic gaze back to her father and waited.

After a moment, her father returned the envelope to the man before striding towards the front door. Kira parted the cover of curtains and hopped down from the bay window, prepared for a scolding—or worse. Her heart hammered in her chest as her father emerged in the entryway. But again, he glanced at her for only a moment before looking away and calling out for the other members of her family.

“What is it?” Kira’s mother asked as she emerged from the kitchen. She yawned and held a mug of coffee dangerously close to her face. Kira wondered absently if her mother thought she could absorb the caffeine simply by inhaling the steam. Kira wasn’t totally sure herself if she was being honest. 

“Get the kids. We’re leaving,” her father growled with a voice that meant there would be no ifs, ands or buts about it.

Her mother's face scrunched up in confusion. “What are you talking about? Michael what's this about?”

Her father placed both hands on her mother’s shoulders, “Do what I say.” Kira shivered, hearing a familiar edge creep into his voice. Her mother bristled slightly, hearing it too. She nodded and started calling out for the rest of Kira’s siblings to pile in the van outside. One by one they filed out of the house until Kira was the only child remaining. Doing a final glance around the living room, her mother’s gaze fell on Kira.

“Abby!” her mother snapped at her. Abigail may have been their name for her, but she had always felt like a Kira. Maybe that was why she didn't realize her mother was talking to her until she felt a rough hand clamp around her wrist. “Abby, did you hear me?! Get outside and wait in the—”

“No,” her father said, suddenly. A lengthy silence filled the room. “She’s not coming.” Her mother looked between her father and Kira, her brow furrowing deeper as he searched her husband's face for an explanation. Her father continued to avoid Kira's gaze at all costs.

“What’s going on?”

“Just get in the damn car,” her father snarled. He grabbed her mother above the elbow and started pulling her bodily through the door and towards the stylish gentleman outside.

Kira clung to the frame of her family’s front door, breathing heavily as she watched her siblings all pile into the van—without her. She was reminded of picking teams in gym class, and the sinking realization that she’d be the last one left. Except this time, there was no team left to join. And she felt so small. She wished she could fade into the shadows, into nothingness, where nothing and no one could hurt her again.

She felt a familiar presence at her side as a warm hand slid into her own. Kira gripped it tight, blinking back tears as Anna squeezed once to let her know she was with her. No matter how dark a corner Kira retreated to, Anna would always find her. She was always the light to lead her out.

“They all SUCK,” Anna proclaimed, her bravado cracking only slightly. Kira nodded, wiping a traitorous tear from her heated face as she watched the mystery man hand the envelope to her father once more. The man turned away from her parents and started walking towards the Altman home. Kira’s mother was muttering something to her father as he pulled her towards the van, her eyes never leaving Kira’s face. And then, her father paused, taking in a deep breath and balled his hands into fists.

Kira had witnessed her father’s anger far too many times. She recognized the rigid set of his shoulders and the veins that popped in his neck as rage welled within him. So, when her father turned on his heels and started to rush the tall, aristocratically thin man, she wasn’t surprised. But when the mystery man stopped cold and enormous, red leathery wings sprung from his back that knocked her father to the ground—well, she was surprised then.

Kira heard distant screams and sobbing as her father crashed to the ground and cowered beneath the winged man. Her father stared at the wings with abject terror that Kira knew all too well. A hexagonal pattern of a bathroom tile flashed before Kira’s eyes at the thought. She gripped the edge of the door frame and flinched as the ghost of some painful memory echoed in her mind.

The winged man didn’t even bother to turn around, but instead, he tilted his head towards Kira’s father as he spoke calmly, “You have shown yourself to be the kind of man who would sell his own daughter, now you would be the kind to renege on a deal?” The man’s wings twitched slightly at the thought. “You are already beneath my concern, do not become beneath my contempt.”

Kira looked between her cowering father and this winged man and felt a sick satisfaction warm her face. He deserved it. The winged man turned and resumed his calculated walk towards the house, while her father scrambled back on his hands and feet to Kira’s mother. She hoisted him up by the shoulders, and they raced to the van and peeled out of the driveway in record time, leaving the memory of their daughter in the rearview mirror.

“Good riddance,” Anna and Kira muttered in unison, each letting out a relieved, weary sigh. Kira turned her attention to the man with the wings as he approached, and tried to make sense of what was happening. He came looking for her. He made the monsters go away, and he kept her safe. For some reason, she mattered to him. She was important to him.

The man’s hazel eyes found her own, watching him and his red wings with fascination. And to both of their surprise, she did not wither beneath his stare. Instead, she straightened her back and matched his gaze. She felt the corner of her mouth twitch into a small grin as a truth resonated deep in her bones—this was home. And for the first time in as long as she could remember, she didn't feel so small anymore. She felt safe.

This is part two in a canonical short story written by Lauren Johnson. The events take place before the events of the Cover Story Campaign.

[celestemagnoliathewriter]

@justleaveacommentfest (meant to post yesterday oops) for day 2 I stuck to gen fics only because they don't get as much love. I went further and stuck only to G/T rated fics! I still used the fic bingo and found some gems out in the wild:

The Limits of Perception, A Voldemort character study. b3, author joined site <2012

One of the Pack, an insight into Remus trying to hold onto his humanity, told in second POV! b5, 0 comments (until me!)

It Would All Be Okay, a snapshot of what Remus was thinking at the Battle of Hogwarts, o1, less than 12 kudos

To Lose One Parent..., a 100 word drabble on a missing generation. g3, 100 word drabble

Monica Wilkins and the Fat Envelope, or how Hermione tries to recover her mother's memory after the war, i5, genfic

Midnight Tea, when Dudley makes Harry a cup of tea 🥹, n4 author with 50+ works

Dishes, an angsty Remadora Drabble, o5 less than 3 bookmarks

The Darkness Has Not Overcome It, drew me in from the tags and summary, b1, less than 100 hits

Or Worse, Expelled, a hilariously violent Hermione keeps getting expelled from her primary schools, i4, less than 5k words

Actions Speak Louder Than Words, in which Ron convinces the Sorting Hat to make him a Slytherin, g2, starts with an "a"

[recitedemise]

She was engrossed in her book, navigating the familiar space of her study with practiced ease, dodging the low ceiling beam she had collided with countless times before. But today, there was a new obstacle she hadn't yet noticed—a taller, solid presence that suddenly loomed before her. Before she could react, she crashed into his chest, jolting slightly at the unexpected collision. However, the familiar scent that enveloped her drew a gentle smile to her lips. Leaning up onto her toes, she pressed her soft, pale lips against his cheek, lingering for a moment in the comforting embrace before whispering a gentle, soaking herself in his scent, filling her lungs before whispering a chuckled "sorry." With that, she continued on her mission, navigating the room with renewed determination, her mind still lost in the pages of her magical books - oh she would run into a door or such very soon again.

This is incandescent. In fact, out all those visions he's humored in his sleep, this, this here, trumps all a dream. Everything is cozy, the fragrance she wears so delicate and sweet. He can find her everywhere, in the silence and in the nights, her half-mumbled thoughts giving chase to shadows, and the sweet off her bath in her sleep-rucked sheets. He can't remember when home had last felt so...home. But watching so dazzled as she traces the room, her presence so tender had settled in everything. Her tea is in his cupboards. And her hands are on his chest.

Oops. "Quite alright," Gale smiles, and gingerly, his whiskered cheek finds a kiss. He looks down, a tremendous affection ferrying this want-starved heart. He itches to find her, to settle his palm along the slim of her waist; however, she's gone, gone, fluttering, nose buried in her passages, and he wonders if it tells her how he truly yearns. He's always here staring. Always there waiting. She stands emblazoned by the sunlight, her flyaways licked amber, and he like so dearly how she fills the room.

"I've half the mind to believe you a cartographer with all this mapping about you do," he settles on instead, his skin still tingling. Good heavens, Gale. "And yet, despite the enormity of this space, it still seems to me trouble will find you. Someone should keep an eye on you in case you get lost. Well, my services are readily available. Denote me your true north."

Oh, that's so abysmally silly, Gale! Still, he smiles, and reaching out, stops her from colliding with a table. His hand, warm and steady, finds the dip of her back. "What am I to do with you?" The answer is plain: anything she desires.

[magioffire]

💋   //   give  my  muse  a  kiss  that  draws  blood . ( oops the fangs are out )

aggression / sexual tension ; accepting

The trek through the wilderness to Apsel's castle was much easier once the snow banks receded and low lying plants hurried in to fill the wet, fertile ground revealed underneath. Usually, he would just fly the rest of the way, but he was keenly aware that there was a village not far from the foothills of the forest surrounding the forest, and they surely would not react well to seeing a black winged mass flying through their night skies.

He knew the forest well enough, able to traverse in the deep blackness with only the light of the moon and his antennae to lead the way. He was getting close now, he could make out a few lights far off in the distance, past the still naked branches. Apsel typically never kept the candle and torches on unless he was expecting the fae.

The gesture certainly made Valeriu feel much more welcome, like he wasn't invading Apsel's life so much as being allowed in tentatively. He quickly learned to recognize those unspoken gestures of kindness, Apsel often said one thing, and then did something for Valeriu that suggested the exact opposite. It was confusing, of course, and more than a little bit frustrating at times, but he wasn't one to back down so easily.

Especially when even the fae couldn't deny how much he enjoyed being in Apsel's presence, how he continued to feel warmth for Apsel even when he was presented with only coldness. Vali took a step forward, but before his foot even connected with the ground, the sound of crunching leaves rang clear as day through the forest. Vali paused, his blood running cold.

He whipped around towards the sound, peering into the fractured darkness with narrowed eyes, and he noticed the shadows were looking right back at him. His antennae twitched, and he sniffed the air not unlike a bloodhound. Once he picked up the scent, the fae crouched down, and bounded head-long into the shadows. He felt himself connecting with another form, the shadows retreating back into a more familiar visage until he and Apsel were rolling around on the forest floor.

Vali laughed, using his superior weight to roll atop the other and pin him to the ground. He straddled Apsel's hips, squeezing his thighs around him tight. "What do you think you are doing? Trying to scare me, huh?" Vali cackled. "You know I can smell you, right?"

The two of them continued to playfully wrestle for a little longer, Vali bent on continuing to tease Apsel, but he was abruptly cut off. Apsel kissed him ferociously, passionately, grabbing Valeriu and pulling him in as close as possible.

Vali shuddered, melting into the contact -- even if it was just a distraction to get the upper hand on Vali, he wanted to savour the softness of Apsel's lips, the roughness of his stubble grazing against him, his scent enveloping the fae and intoxicating him. He could feel sharp fangs grazing against his bottom lip, but he didn't resist or pull away, even as those fangs drew deep into his flesh until drops of wine-colored blood fell.

The sensation hurt pleasantly, the stinging a reminder that he was alive and despite all his power, he cold bleed, and he would happily bleed for the one he loved. His head was spinning, and despite himself, he let out a soft whimper, one that suggested that despite the pain, he found great pleasure in being marked like this. Perhaps Apsel didn't realize it, but he was effectively marking Vali as his own, and the fae wasn't one to take such a physical proclamation lightly. Vali lapped the blood on their lips away, before he returned the favor and bit back. Claimed Apsel for himself.

He sunk his fangs deep into the waiting flesh before him, blood full of iron slowly rising to the surface, warm and bittersweet. He reveled in the taste of his own royal purple blood mingling with his lover's, glistening upon his teeth, connecting them, perhaps in ways neither of them anticipated.

Pressing a soft kiss to the wound he created, Vali reluctantly, tentatively pulled himself from Apsel's embrace, gasping, chesting heaving, pupils wide. The two of them laid there like that, just taking the other in, uncaring of the hard ground beneath them or the darkness enveloping them. Vali leaned in and pecked Apsel on the tip of his nose. "Why don't we go inside and finish this?" Vali suggested mischievously, but just in case it needed to be made clearer, Vali squeezed his thighs around Apsel's hips, tighter now. He absently pulled a fallen leaf from his hair and threw it aside. "And...maybe a bath, too?"

@aufhcker

[adventuresinclientservice]

Why bother with direct marketing?

Years ago my colleagues Simon Sinek and Tony Gomes were running an agency called Sinek/Gomes – yes, this is the Simon of Start With Why fame; a check of their bios reveals both of them have selective amnesia when it comes to their then-partnership – but they also moonlighted as adjunct professors at Columbia University, teaching in its graduate program on Strategic Communications.  I at the time was, to my eternal regret, CEO of Rapp’s New York office.  

At some point they reached out, asking me if I would lead a session on direct marketing, so on the appointed day and hour I dutifully made my way uptown to Columbia’s Morningside Heights campus.

“What makes you think I’m from New York?”

Now mostly supplanted and largely superseded by web-based initiatives, direct response marketing still very much mattered in the early aughts, especially those initiatives that addressed individual clients, customers, and prospects by name.  Except, of course, when you misspelled the names of recipients, which was beyond calamitous.

Wanting to make and reinforce this point, I had an oversize mailing envelope mocked up with Simon’s name and address on it, with one small adjustment: I added an “e” to Simon’s name, turning him into “Simone.”

I recall Simone – oops, I mean Simon -- being none too happy about this sudden change in gender, but it drew a few laughs from listeners, and I was able to make my point:  get the names right and you’re golden; get them wrong and recipients will never forget or forgive, holding the brand, the company, the product/service forever responsible, accountable, and to blame.  Instead of reinforcing what you are trying to sell, you erode it, often damaging it beyond salvation.

Blowing it on names right certainly isn’t the only thing you can screw up; witness an email I received from Nathalie Schallier, who works at Onyx Media:

“Hey Robert - I see you’re based in New York ....

“Was wondering if you’re interested to hearing how I can create 15 on brand social media posts for Solomon Strategic? The posts will be written and designed according to your preferences, so they match your tone of voice perfectly.”

I wrote back:

“What makes you think I’m based in New York, Nathalie?”

A week-plus goes by without a reply.

Why Direct matters.

In the previous, 20th century analog, ink-on-paper days, personalizing a piece of mail was a complicated, time-consuming, and expensive task, one those of us in direct marketing took seriously, knowing how damaging it would be if we butchered names or other easy-to-know facts.  In the current 21st century digital environment, personalization is a whole lot easier to achieve, and yet I see email after email that is little more than discardable junk, Nathalie Schallier’s delete-able garbage among them.

In case this didn’t register the first time, let me repeat that the worst thing you can do is get recipients’ names wrong.

The second worst thing you can do is get details of their life/work wrong.

It has been ten-plus years since I called Manhattan home.  Anyone who spends 30 seconds looking into my background will see I am a Napa resident.  Hello, Nathalie Schallier, I’m writing about you:  you couldn’t bother to check before you carpet-bombed me and others with your unsolicited pitch?

The best, most strategically and technically sound digital marketers are not the Nathalie Schalliers of the world; they are pros who cut their teeth in Direct, knowing better than most how not to create discardable junk email.  

I’m done ranting, but if one of you asks, “What’s direct marketing?” I already know the battle I’m fighting is lost.

[dreamylittlesugarcube]

Bambi, Baby

Genre: EXO Canon, Fluff, Angst

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Warning: Kissing, foreplay, mentions of smut (but not the deed itself)

Word Count: 2k

Summary: You and Baekhyun have been dating for a while, and you have an announcement for him: you’re pregnant. 

A/N: Hello, awesome readers! I received a request for a pregnancy-themed one-shot with Baekyun,  and here it is! Thank you for the request, I hope you like it!  

If you like what you read please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging so that others can find my content easier. Thanks!

*Please note: I do not own the images above, so credit should go to the original owner(s)*

~*~

You're my only Bambi, Bambi

It's a perfect night for you

Come down, night rain, night rain

Dripping down on us all night until the morning

You laid on your side, eyes fixed on the electric figure on the TV screen. Baekhyun moved like water: fluid and quick, almost floating across the floor. He looked good, really good,  those damn tight, black leather pants that molded to him like a second skin, made your mind go blank. You got lost in the coy tilt of his head, the curve of lips, and the sensual thrust of his hips.

It was a body that you knew intimately. To many, he was EXO’s untouchable golden boy, but to you, he was the witty, down-to-earth boyfriend who cried during sad movies and pouted for cuddles. And to him, you were his Bambi. Watching him on-screen was both a help and a hurt on lonely nights like tonight, when he was away. Seeing his face lessened the ache in your chest, but did nothing to assuage the deep longing to feel his arms around you once again. 

*zzzzz* *zzzzz* *zzzzz*

Feeling vibrations next to your elbow, you swiped your phone off the bed. The screen lit up to reveal a text from Chanyeol.

TooTall: So, have you told him yet?

Bambi: No. Obviously. I just found out today, plus I was planning to wait until he got home. I figured it would be better in-person. Who reveals stuff like this over the phone, anyway? I’m nervous though. Baek’s usually an open book, but I’m not sure about this one. 

TooTall: Relax, Y/N, everything will be fine. It’s not like you're telling him you're leaving him and moving to Timbuktu.

Bambi: Yeah sure….I’m just telling my boyfriend that I’m PREGNANT. But no big deal, right?! La-dee-dah-dee-dah, business as usual. 

TooTall: Sarcasm noted. But seriously, let me know how it goes tonight.

Bambi: ….Tonight? What’s tonight?

TooTall: <surprised Pikachu face> Ugh….nothing….ha ha…I misspoke.

Bambi: Mmmhmm….What do you know, Park Chanyeol?

TooTall: Oops, Junmyeon is calling me….gotta go, byeeeeee! 

You put your phone down with a huff, the conversation ending rather abruptly. That was suspicious, you thought to yourself. Too suspicious, even for Chanyeol, which was saying a lot. What was tonight? You weren’t expecting Baekhyun back for another week, at least that’s what he’d told you yesterday.

Had that been a lie? Was Baekhyun coming back to you tonight? Your heart palpitated in your chest and you felt a wave of anxiety wash over you. Oh god, you weren’t ready for this, hadn’t even had the time to process the news of your pregnancy yourself. And definitely hadn’t had time to think about how you’d break the news to your boyfriend once you saw him. 

Hearing the sound of the door code being punched in, you closed your eyes, wiping your sweaty palms on your pants, as you readied for what you knew you had to say. The door closed and Baekhyun’s footsteps drew closer and closer to the dimly-lit bedroom. As you stared out the window into the blackness of the night, warm arms circled around your middle. In the glass's reflection, you saw Baekhyun’s face over your shoulder and felt the electrifying sensation of his lips on your neck. Enveloped, you breathed him in, his familiar scent a balm on your mind as you relaxed against his body. 

“I missed you, Bambi,” he sighed, pulling you in closer like a lifeline he never wanted to let go. 

“I missed you too, Baek,” you whispered. 

Baekhyun’s hand moved up to carefully cup your cheek, gently turning your head so he could access your mouth. A thrill ran through your body as Baekhyun’s lips descended on your own, and soon you were breathless, gasping for air against Baekhyun’s relentless pursuit. 

Guiding you backwards, he sat down on the bed, settling you atop his thighs as he worked to make your insides melt. Baekhyun grew hard beneath you, and he rocked you back and forth, making sure you could feel what you did to him. In a haze, you were ready to strip your clothes off and let him have his wicked way with you, do whatever he wanted with your body. 

But…it wasn’t just your body anymore. That realization hit you like a bucket of cold water in winter, catapulting you out of the fog of lust and back into the real world. 

“Baekhyun, stop,” you entreated quietly, waiting for his lips to disappear so you could think straight. 

Baekhyun hummed in the back of his throat in acknowledgement, though his lips continued on with their devastating effect. 

With more conviction in your voice, you tried again: “Baekhyun, stop it, I need to tell you something.”

Baekhyun’s hips froze, his lips still on your neck. 

“Baby, what is it?” Sensing the change in your mood, he gently slid you from his lap to sit beside him on the bed. He  gripped your hand tightly, eyes full of concern as he looked down at you. 

You glanced away from his knowing gaze, nerves pitching into high gear once again. “Baekhyun, I have something I need to tell you,” you managed. 

“Baby, what is it? Are you…sick?” he asked, worry evident in his voice. 

“No…I’m not sick, Baekhyun...I’m…I’m…I’m pregnant.” You squeezed the words out of your mouth as fast as you could. There, you’d said it. You’d put the words out into the universe. 

“Pregnant?” Baekhyun breathed, disbelief coloring his voice.

You nodded silently.

“But how? We took precautions…when did you find out?”

“I know we did, but…it happened…I just found out today, actually,” you admitted.

Baekhyun pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes to take a deep breath. “No, no, nol,” he muttered under his breath, denial dripping from every word. 

A feeling of dread washed over you, pins and needles poking at your skin. You grabbed Baekhyun’s hands in yours, hoping they’d anchor you to the ground and keep you from floating away.

“Baek–”

“No, no, no–I’m not ready for this–not now, there’s still so much to do.” He covered his eyes, shaking his head back and forth, heading into further denial from the news he just received. Getting up, he paced back and forth across the bedroom. 

“I get it, Baekhyun, I do. I’m not ready for a baby either…but what do we do? There’s a baby in here, regardless of how we feel,” you countered, lips weighted down like lead as you tried to form a coherent sentence. 

Baekhyun stood still as a statue in front of the window, his back turned to you. 

You waited for a response, but none came. Silence reigned, your heavy breathing the only noise in the room. 

“Baekhyun, please look at me”, you pleaded, rising from the bed to stand behind him. 

Baekhyun flipped around at your words, his eyes stormy, fists clenched into tight balls. “I can’t do this,” he said, voice taut as he walked from the room. The front door slammed shut, signaling his departure from the apartment. And just like that, you were alone once again. 

You felt numb inside, empty, like the light had been sucked out of you. You managed to make it back to the bed before your legs collapsed underneath you. You pulled your legs to your chest, tears falling down your cheeks, the sound of your sobs echoing softly through the vacant room. 

With a lump in your throat, you tried and failed to plot your field position. Where did you go from here? Your boyfriend, clearly, was not ready for or happy about the prospect of a baby right now–and you didn’t blame him–because, if you were honest, neither were you. You had a lot that you wanted to do–go back to school for your Master’s degree, travel the world with Baekhyun–so many things that didn’t leave room for a baby. 

As your tears slowly dried, your eyes grew heavy, exhaustion sweeping through you from all the emotional upheaval you’d experienced in the last hour. You felt sleep coming to you, enveloping you in its warm embrace, and you hoped your dreams would be sweet. 

Sometime later, you felt the bed dip. Baekhyun was running his fingers up and down your cheek, speaking to you softly as though he hadn’t just stormed out after finding out he was going to be a father. You kept your eyes closed a little longer, loathe to leave this comfortable state between sleep and true wakefulness. 

“Bambi…Bambi…wake up, baby.” Silky lips grazed your forehead, a steady hand brushed the hair away from your face in a gentle caress. 

“Wake up, my love, I need to talk to you,” he whispered, the feel of his lips at your ear giving you shivers. 

Cracking your eyes open, your gaze zeroed in on the man whose face rested on the pillow, mere inches from your own. You laid there, fixed on each other as you wordlessly battled out who would break the silence first. You gave in first, not in the mood to prolong a staring contest like a pair of six-year-olds. 

“Why did you leave, Baekhyun?” You started with the easiest, most obvious question.

Baekhyun bit his lip, having the good sense to look abashed. He enveloped your hands in his larger ones, taking a deep breath before he started. “I’m so sorry, baby. I reacted badly, I know. This is just a lot to process and–I just–I’m not ready for a baby. Obviously, that’s not an excuse and I shouldn’t have left you alone, not now.” Baekhyun’s voice rang with sincerity, and you could tell from the look in his eyes that he truly felt bad for how he’d reacted. 

“I’m not going to lie to you, Baekhyun, it hurt when you left. I had just gotten some of the scariest news of my life…I needed you…but you weren’t there.” As you closed your eyes, willing away the memory of his retreating back, another question bubbled on your lips. 

“When you left, where did you go Baekhyun? You’ve been gone for hours.” 

Sheepishly, Baekhyun admitted: “Actually, I never left–no really–I’ve been sitting in the stairwell for the last two hours, taking some time to clear my head.”

“Come up with anything ground-breaking while you were out there?” you asked, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. It was hard to stay mad at Baekhyun when he looked at you with those puppy dog eyes. 

“Yeah, actually,” he started, a small smile crossing his lips, “I was thinking it would be a good idea for us to talk to Chen and his wife–they’ve obviously made balancing kids and a career work for them– twice even.” 

Your eyes widened at the suggestion. He was right–they had made it work. You felt better knowing there were people you could go to for advice. “That’s a good idea, Baek,” you agreed, ruffling his hair with affection. At your touch, you could see Baekhyun physically relax, the tightness gone from his shoulders, smooth skin where there’d been a worry line between his brows. 

With a sigh, Baekhyun pulled you close, cupping your head to his chest. “Thank you for giving me another chance to make this right,” he breathed. “I’ll be better, I’ll do better–for you and for the baby, I promise.” 

You hummed in response, feeling supremely comforted by his nearness and with this surprising turn of events. Taking his face between your palms, you recognized the tell-tale sheen in his eyes. “I know this is scary, Baekhyun–for both of us–but as long as we have each other, everything will be fine.” You truly felt that in your heart. There may be some tough times ahead, but with Baekhyun by your side, you knew you were ready for anything. 

“I love you, Bambi,” he choked out, a new roughness in his voice. He pulled you forward till your foreheads touched, lips meeting yours, delicate and unhurried. 

“For forever, Baek,” you vowed, snuggling closer to the man you loved, ready to take on the world no matter what–or who–it would bring. 

~*~

Thank you, everyone, for reading Bambi, Baby! Please like, comment, and/or re-blog if you enjoyed what you read. Also, follow me for more EXO content in the future! 

XOXO, 

Emmy

[elenamiria]

Danny Torrance x Reader - Kinktober Day 30

Temperature Play | Sixty-Nine | Dub-Con | Xenophilia

Word Count:  4.5k (🤡 oops) Warnings: Dub-con! Possessed!Danny, fem reader,  violence against reader, choking (in a non sexual way), brief oral (f receiving), Biting and marking, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, rough sex, slight daddy kink, feelings (fluff and slight angst)

Kinktober Day 29 «  Kinktober Masterlist »  Kinktober Day 31

Main Masterlist & Taggies: @legally-a-bastard​ , @katrynec​ , @mistermiraclee​ , @obitwo​ , @justanotherblonde23​

When Danny had come home distraught you heard him heading up the stairs to his room, yours being below his, and thought maybe you should go check on him. You hadn't at first, not wanting to disturb him, he was closer to Billy than he was to you so you worried it might be odd just showing up.  Billy had introduced the two of you and you all had dinner together a few times a week when Danny was off. You had a soft spot for Danny, the way he always seemed to know when something was bothering you, his kind eyes and smile, and his soft, caring nature all drew you towards him. Not that you would ever admit your little crush to him, he never seemed to look your way twice. But, when you heard a smashing noise and glass skittering across the ceiling you decided that maybe you should in fact go see if he was alright. 

The door was ajar and you slowly entered the room. He was against the black wall, hands pressing firmly into it, and you called out his name softly. As you got closer you could hear him speaking but it wasn't to you. Unsure of what to do you stood there until he jolted towards the wall with a gasp - like he was waking up from a trance. You called out to him again and he spun to you eyes wide. You stepped back for a second at the wild look on his face and then quickly approached when you noticed the blood on his upper lip. Reaching up you gently trailed your fingers down his cheek as you whispered, "Are you hurt?"

He shook his head, still breathing heavily and he replied, "No, I'm fine but Abra. I have to go get her, they took her."

A million questions ran through your head but he had a desperate look about him and so you simply said, "How can I help?"

You could hardly believe the tale Danny told you on the way to pick up Abra but you knew he was telling the truth, the way he looked at you as if begging for you to trust him only confirmed that. It was a good thing you agreed to come along Danny was exhausted and when you offered to take over driving so he could rest he happily accepted. 

Now the three of you were on your way to the Overlook Hotel and an uncomfortable feeling was sitting heavily in your stomach. You couldn't shake the feeling despite the determination that your two companions seemed to have and you knew Danny could tell something was going on by the way he kept glancing at you. When you stopped at the gas station at the bottom of the mountain you were tense you couldn't tell if your body wanted to scream or cry or both but something in you was telling you to run far far away from the hotel you were heading towards and never look back. Dan laid a warm hand on your knee and your gaze snapped from the mountain to him. He offered you and then Abra a small smile before he lowly stated, "Not too much further, up the mountain." 

When his hand left you to return to the steering wheel you wanted nothing more than to chase after it and interlace your fingers together but you shook the feeling off as just your nerves besides now was not exactly the time for romance.

As you gazed into the gaping maw of the hotel you could feel your whole body trembling and you knew it wasn't due to the snow falling around you. As Danny explained that he wanted Abra to wait in the car you stood patiently waiting to see what your role would be in all of this. Danny finally turned to you as Abra retreated into the car, "I want you to wait with her. When we're in there you stay with her the whole time, that way if something happens to me she'll have you."

You blinked up at him, shivering slightly as you replied - "If it's dangerous for you shouldn't you have someone come with you. I'm not like you two, right? So maybe I could help you."

Danny smiled at you, "You are like us, you just don't know. Billy was like us too, he could always sense people, he could tell who they were before he'd even say hello. You, right now you're shaking and it's because you can sense things too."

His arms grasped your elbows, your arms tightly wrapping around yourself, "So you'll stay with Abra, I'll go in alone. I'll be alright"

You hesitantly nodded, sharing a long look at each other as if trying to communicate words unspoken before you retreated to the car and watched Dan Torrance walk into the overlook hotel. 

It wasn't long before Abra was calling Dan back out to you and the three of you were heading into the hotel together this time, Abra clutching onto both you and Danny. From there everything happened so quickly you barely had time to process it all. One second everything seemed to be going according to plan and the next everything went to hell. Danny had ordered you and Abra to run and so you did, holding the young girl's hand tightly terrified of losing her to this place.    You could hear Danny's screams as they echoed through the abandoned halls and you had to stop yourself from going back for him. When you and Abra ran into the the twins you knew something had happened to Danny and you wrapped a protective arm around Abra. Slowly you tugged her backwards away from the twins and turned to go back down the hall, freezing once you saw Danny. Abra spoke but you couldn't focus what she was saying as blood rushed through your ears, every atom of your being screaming at you to run. You found yourself whispering the word 'run' aloud as Danny lifted his head and pure terror rushed through you. Abra sprinted ahead of you, still holding onto your hand as the two of you fled. You let her take the lead as she seemed sure in her path, though there was nothing to assure you that it wasn't the hotel leading you to certain doom. 

Ducking into room 237 you pushed her behind you as Danny's deranged shouts of your name and then hers filled the air, growing closer and closer. She clung to your back, small hands gripping your sides, and you bit back tears as the two of you backed further into the room. You held your breath as you watched Danny's shadow pass by the door and exhaled shakily when he seemed to pass by, you took long deep breaths - all you had to do was get to the car and you'd be fine.  You turned to Abra who was staring into the bathroom but you gently shook her, she jumped slightly before focusing on you. You were certain Dan would return and when he did you were going to distract him so Abra could escape, she tried to argue but as you positioned her next to the door you reassured her with fake smile and, “It’s alright, I’ll be right behind you.”

The door sprung open far sooner than you hoped and your heart pounded in your chest as Danny advanced. His gaze intense, his white eye staring through you as his blue eye darkened. He stalked towards you calling out your name in a low growl, “You’ve been very very bad.”

You froze as the axe came dangerously close to your face, the blunt end trailing just along the edge of your body as Danny questioned, “Where is she?”

Trembling you felt tears gather in your eyes as the cold metal of the axe slid up your cheek and you choked out, “I don’t know we went separately.”

You could see Abra in your peripheral vision slowly sneaking out of the room and you wanted to sigh in relief but your attention was quickly brought back to Dan’s face as his eyes narrowed at you, “Naughty girl, I told you to stay with her and now you don’t know where she is is that right??”

You met Abra’s hesitant eyes over Danny's shoulder as you nodded and she took off. Danny started to turn at the noise but you did your best to distract him, attempting to wrestle the axe away. 

He snarled, his voice distorted and echoing with other voices that didn't belong to him and he grabbed you by the throat lifting you effortlessly before throwing you. You slammed into the wall with a scream, falling to the floor and you let out a small whine as you tried to rise, gripping the side table next to you tightly. Dan approached you laughing as your head swam, you looked up at him tears in your eyes and he froze. His head tilted slightly as he watched you shakily fight back your sobs, his eyes narrowed - "How interesting." 

You were hauled to your feet by a firm hand grasping your hair and wrenching your head to the side, Danny buried his face into your neck. Inhaling deeply there was another harsh laugh and then, "You smell so so delicious."

He bit harshly into the junction between your neck and shoulder causing you to cry out in pain that quickly morphed into a whimper as he suckled and lapped at the spot. 

"W-what are you doing, Danny?" You knew the question was pointless as this wasn't your Danny. However you received a response though it didn't answer anything, "We're going to do what he was too afraid to."

Danny had dropped the axe at some point and his hand slid up your body to grope at your breasts before gripping your throat tightly. You gasped for air before Dan's mouth enveloped yours in a hot and needy kiss, his tongue slipping easily into your parted mouth. Your eyes slid shut as you tried to pretend that this was actually Danny kissing you and not whatever was currently possessing his body, when you didn't respond he tightened his hand cutting off your air supply. Your hands shot to his arm, scraping at his jacket desperately to pull him off, and your eyes flew open again. He pulled back, breathing heavily, as his eyes trailed you up and down. A half smirk covered his face as he spoke, this time sounding more like himself just low and gravelly, "Don't act like you don't like this dove. I can sense your arousal. Just let us in, let us feast on you."

His hand finally relaxed just as your vision had started to go blurry and you gasped harshly for air, barely able to get any before once again his lips were devouring yours. You moaned into his mouth when Danny slipped his hands under your shirt, sliding up to your tits and he grabbed at them with an appreciative moan of his own. He played with your nipples, pinching and pulling just hard enough that there was a slight sting and enough to make you cry out in pleasure. His lips pulled apart from yours after swallowing down every little noise you made while he played with you and trailed to your neck. 

Danny looked up at you, his milky eye seeming to pierce your soul, before he bit once again though this time higher up. He seemed to delight in the cry that flew from your mouth. He continued his treatment as his hands made quick work of your clothing, tearing it away when it wasn't easy to take off. You called out his name in alarm as he ripped your shirt in half but he simply grinned as he once again teased your breasts. He continued marking you down your neck and collarbone until he reached your chest. Whispering 'mine.' before biting harshly at the tops of your tits and sucking marks into them. 

You grasped at the back of his head, running your fingers through his hair and tugging slightly as he bit at you. His eyes snapped up to your face and your breath hitched at the feral look in his eyes. He stood up to his full height locking eyes with you while his hands trailed down your body to your waist, gripping hard enough you knew there were going to be bruises. He spun you around, pushing you hard into the wall, hands tugging your pants and underwear down your legs. You trembled as your face pressed against the cold plaster, shivering as your body was exposed to the cold air. 

Danny knelt on the ground as he pulled your legs free of their clothing, warm palms grasping at your ass before spreading you apart and baring your wet cunt to him. You heard him inhale deeply and you yelped as once again Danny bit you, this time your sensitive inner thigh. He whispered 'mine' again before his tongue licked up your thigh up to your pussy. He licked three long lines up the entire length of your slit, groaning each time he tasted your sweet juices, his tongue pressing flat and wide against you. The fourth time he trailed his tongue through your lips, down your thigh, over your ass cheek and all the way up your spine until he rose behind you and pressed his body into yours. 

Dan's clothing dug into your soft skin as he repositioned you, yanking your hips backwards but pressing your face harder into the wall. You couldn't help the garbled moan that flew past your lips when you felt his hard length pressing into you from behind. Your body, seemingly moving of it's own accord, ground into his cock pleading for him. 

"Patience, dove. We have all the time we need." He growled out, his hands fumbling with his jeans. He undid them just enough to pull out his cock, hard and throbbing, as you tried to glance behind you to look at him. His hands returned to your body, one burying itself in your hair to keep you still and his other arm wrapping around your hips to pull you back towards him and then without warning he was inside you. 

You screamed, startled at the harsh intrusion, as his length filled you. He stretched your tight little cunt out but you were so soaked he was able to slip inside without a problem. You heard a deep moan from him as his hips starting to pull back and forth, pumping his hard cock in and out of you. His pace started slow, with powerful thrusts burying him to the hilt on each forward movement, but that didn't last for long as he growled out your name and his hands flew to your waist. His grip was hard and his rhythm animalistic as he pounded into you, pulling you harshly into him with his firm grip on you. Your whole body was jerking in time with the power of his thrusts, your hands bracing on the wall to keep from slamming your face into it over and over again as you cried out on every thrust. Your vision blurred with tears as he fucked you, pleasure overwhelming your body. 

Loud grunts echoed off the wall from behind you as he muttered out incomprehensible words mixed with light moans of your name. You begged him - "More, Danny harder! Please touch me, please!!" - as you felt your orgasm fast approaching, needing touch and stimulation elsewhere on your body. Suddenly everything was ripped away from you leaving you to pant against the wall until you were spun around. Your leg was hitched up around his hips as he plunged his rock hard cock into you once again, tearing a hoarse moan from you. His pace was brutal and one of his hands grasped your jaw harshly as he hissed, nostrils flaring, "You look at me when you cum dove. You hear me, are you gonna be a good girl for daddy?"

You cried out as his other hand circled your clit alternating between teasing touches and then pressing hard enough on the little bundle of nerves that you saw stars while he pounded away into you. Your walls clenched around him, squeezing hard, as a scream ripped from your throat when he pinched at your clit, pulling your orgasm from you. The tears that had been filling your eyes spilled over and Danny laughed before it broke off into a deep moan as your hot walls clung to him. You had stared into his eyes as he ordered when your orgasm hit but as it overwhelmed you your eyes slid shut of their own accord. You were gasping for breath as you came down and you didn't notice the way Danny's hands softened around you and how his hips slowed. 

A weak call of your name met your ears and your eyes flew open desperately. Your eyes met Danny's confused and dazed blue orbs and you gasped. Your hands flew to his face as a soft smile covered your face, "Danny, I knew you were there."

He looked down at where your bodies became one and immediately jerked back, whimpering slightly as his length pulled from your warm body. You whined, trying your best to catch your breath. Danny’s face contorted in concentration as he gripped his head, “Fuck, I can’t hold them back for much longer. You have to go!”

“No, not without you Danny.” You cried as you inched towards him, freezing when you noticed for the first time his leg. Putting your danger aside you immediately walked to him and pulled his belt from his pants, ignoring his length bobbing next to your hand, pausing only to nudge his legs apart. He called out your name again, an edge to his voice that wasn't there a moment ago, “Go now! I can’t-” 

He cut himself off with a cry as you wrapped the belt around his upper thigh and tightened it with all your strength, quickly tying it off. There was an inhuman roar and then you were once again being slammed up against the wall, both of his hands at your throat and face contorted in a snarl. Your feet lifted off the ground and for the first time in this encounter you truly feared for your life, hands scrabbling trying to pull his away. Having to fight your instincts you lifted one of your hands away to softly brush your fingertips against his face as you weakly croaked his name. Your gentle touch allowed him to gain control again as he let go of your neck, hands flying to your shoulders to support you. 

Clinging to him you coughed and sputtered as you inhaled deep gulps of air after a few moments finally listening to what Danny was saying."You have to go, I can't hold them back and I can't stop them from taking you again. Please, you need to go."

Looking at him you shook your head despite wanting to crack at his pleading eyes. You swallowed deeply as you stood straight again, "No Danny, let them take what they need from me. I'm not leaving without you."

You cupped his face softly and pressed your lips to him, kissing him tenderly. Danny hesitated for a moment before he responded with a passion that took your breath away. As he parted he looked at you with a softness that you had only dreamed about before he whispered, "If I do this they won't be gone forever, I'm not strong enough to lock them all away right now."

You nodded as you stared up with the same affection that you saw in his eyes mirrored on your face, "I know, but I'll be with you through it all. If this is what we need to do to get you out of here alive, then we'll do it. Will you take me now, before they take control again? I want to know what it's like to be loved by you."

Danny leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips, though it quickly deepened as his hand slid to your back tugging you close to him. You raised your leg and he was quick to catch it with his spare hand, angling it so it was most comfortable for you. One of your hands cupped his neck and your other trailed down his chest and stomach to grasp his cock loosely. You hadn't had time to appreciate just how big he was when you first were getting fucked but as you gently stroked his length a few times you couldn't hold back the appreciative moan as you felt his size. Lining him up with your cunt you swirled his tip through your drenched folds. Danny broke apart from you, forehead gently pressing to yours and connecting you as he asked, "Are you sure about this?"

Your answer was to press your hips forward, sinking his head into your cunt as you whimpered out a soft 'yes'. Danny pressed forward slowly easing his cock into you and even though he had been in you mere moments ago he still stretched you out deliciously. Where he had been fast and rough before he was now gentle and slow, wanting to savor every moment he had with you. His pace was slow as he pulled out only to fill you up again and again. You called out his name and he swore, face burying in your neck. Danny's hips sped up and you whimpered, his hands slid to your waist both to hold you up and to pull you as close to him as he could. He had noticed the blooming bruises on your neck and now he laved them with attention, pressing soft tender kisses to the areas and nuzzling into you. 

You could tell he was starting to lose control again as his body jerked slightly when he pulled back and his grip on your waist tightened again to the point of slight pain. His breathy moans turned into deep grunts as he sped up suddenly pounding into you like he had earlier. Clinging to him his pace practically lifted you off your feet and you squeaked as he rammed into your cervix, legs buckling. Danny's face stayed buried in your neck, though now he was focused on marking up your collarbone with sucking and biting, while he destroyed you - fucking you so well you knew you would never be able to think of anyone but him. 

He suddenly jerked away from your neck as one hand came down to rub tight circles on your clit, your walls fluttering in pleasure at the stimulation, and you thought he must be close with the way he fucked into you. Your mouth fell open in pleasure as he quickly brought you to another peak, the crown of your head hitting against the wall as your head lolled backwards, his other hand grasped your chin again to pull you up - forcing you to look at him as you came. Body trembling you spasmed against him, pussy clenching and flexing as he slid against your tight walls, it was only moments later when he was tipping over the edge as the two of you locked eyes. 

For just a second his eyes flashed to their normal brilliant blue as he cried out your name before they darkened and a sheen covered his eye once again. His hips bucked deep, filling you to the brim, as his seed shot deep into your core. The feeling sent another wave of spasms through you as he painted your walls with him, claiming you in the most primal sense. As he finished his hips stilled as his head dropped to your shoulder and you stroked the back of his head and his hair softly. 

There was a pregnant pause before Danny was pulling away from you, both eyes blue once more, and tucking himself away into his pants. You quickly found your clothing and tugged it on not wanting to risk him losing control again and you figured you only had a short period of time while he had full control to get out of the hotel. Pausing you realized your shirt was torn clean in half and was unsalvageable. Danny stared, face pink with embarrassment, he quickly shucked his coat and pulled the flannel he was wearing over his head offering it to you. Gratefully you accepted it, pulling it over your head, with your dilemma solved you turned towards Danny and tugged his arm over your shoulder once he put his jacket back on. You knew his leg would make it harder for him to walk now that there wasn't supernatural support pushing him along and you also knew your time was limited considering the boiler room situation. Glancing at Danny you couldn't help the soft smile covering your face as you simply stated, "Let's get the fuck out of here."

Your eyes blinked open blinded slightly by the bright lights shining down on you. A groan left your lips as you sat up straight, having almost slid all the way off your chair at some point during your sleep. Wearily you sat up as you remembered your surroundings, the hospital. Shooting forward your eyes shot to the bed and your face heated when you met Danny's sweet gaze.

"G'morning." He softly said, you smiled and rose to come close to his bedside, your hand resting on his lightly. Smiling you replied with a gentle, "Good morning to you too. How are you feeling?"

"Well I'm on some pain medication so it's not too bad. How is..." He trailed off, face dropping in guilt as he motioned to your neck area. Reassuringly you squeezed his hand, "It's fine, not bad at all. Honestly the ache in my...." 

Your face heated at your thoughtless words before you muttered, "My soreness elsewhere is uhm distracting me."

Danny couldn't hold back a gentle laugh at your words as a blush rose to his cheeks another beautiful smile breaking out across his face. Your spare hand rose to stroke his face fondly before you paused and pulled your hand away, unsure of where your relationship stood with him. Dan's smile dropped slightly as his head tilted, he seemed to sense the problem as he whispered, "Darling I'm yours if you'll have me, I promise as soon as I get out of here I'll take you on a date and we can go from there."

For some reason his words overwhelmed you and tears pricked at your eyes, whether from relief or happiness you couldn't quite tell. Danny's eyes grew before he cooed out your name, hand tugging you forward so he could press soft kisses to your cheek whispering pleas not to cry into your skin. You nuzzled into his cheek before cupping his face once again as you pulled back finally ready to admit what you'd known all along, "Danny I'd love nothing more than for you to be mine, I think it's pretty clear by now. I love you Dan Torrance."

[todoscript]

10, Tamaki Amajiki, fluff or smut

Support

prompt: 10. “You really shouldn’t touch that… I told you.” genre: fluff.  pairing: amajiki tamaki x fem!reader word count: 2.0k+ warnings: mentions of insecurities.

author’s note: This is longer than a drabble should be but I couldn’t control myself. Also, this is my first time writing for Tamaki so I hope I did well portraying him. Big thank you to @burnedbyshoto for being my beta reader as well as recommending the title for this work!

Tamaki Amajiki has experienced an extraordinary amount of circumstances in his life so far that not many boys his age could even imagine to go through. He’s fought crooks, robots, supervillains, hell even the yakuza, and has managed to come out in one piece every time and claim victory. Of course, he has his training and studies from a prestigious hero school to thank for equipping him with the tools he needs to combat such peril. However, no amount of training or experience could truly prepare him for this new, menacing adversary.

A classroom full of school children.

Being a trio backed up by the honorable title of The Big 3, Mirio, Nejire, and Tamaki were given the opportunity to represent U.A. High School as they speak to classrooms of elementary students next week. This was a chance to talk with the younger generation and encourage them to think about a possible career as a crime fighter, while also ensuring that their futures were in safe hands thanks to heroes like them.

As a shy, introverted person whose solution in these social situations is to envisage everyone in the form of vegetables, Tamaki was not keen on this idea. Kids were boisterous and contained way too much energy in their little bodies to handle, making it much harder to conjure them as potatoes in his head. Not only that, but these days they’ve grown judgemental and full of themselves. They boast about their newly developed quirks amongst each other at playgrounds, already comparing their abilities at such an early age. All in all, his fragile spirit cannot handle interacting with these miniature monsters.

Nejire and Mirio seemed much better suited for this task. They glowed with charisma, and their energetic personalities naturally drew people to them. No doubt, the kids will especially be fond of how receptive they are to their young and frisky attitudes. Tamaki felt he just paled in comparison behind their light; however, his two friends would not allow him to deem himself that way.

“C’mon Tamaki, you have so many things going for you!” assures an optimistic Mirio during lunch as Tamaki sulks in the thought of meeting the kids. “You have an amazing quirk! I bet if you show it off, the kids will love it.”

True, the ability to manifest certain animal attributes depending on whatever he digests could tide the youngsters into liking him. But at the same time, would they really be captivated that easily? Aren’t kids at that age more into flashy things like lasers and explosions? No one wants to see him with cow hooves and clam hands, not with Nejire spiraling concussive vitality from her palms and Mirio shooting right up out of solid ground.

“I… I don’t know if the kids would be into my quirk…” he murmurs, eyes averting to his twiddling thumbs beneath the table.

“Amajiki, if you’re aiming to be a Pro Hero, you can’t let a bunch of ten-year-olds deter you!” chides Nejire. She forks a bit of her strewn pasta.

“Easy for you to say, Hadou. You’re bubbly and approachable. Everyone always comes to you. Meanwhile, the freshmen were intimidated by me before I even spoke a word.” Tamaki broods at his plate of food that grows colder during the conversation, but he can’t muster an appetite to eat it. “I can’t imagine how the kids would feel.”

Nejire chews on her noodles with a pitched hum. The trill ceases the moment her eyes light up, an idea flickering in her head.

“Say, how about you visit ____ at support during hero training today? I bet she can hook you up with some flashy gear that they’ll like.”

The utter of your name sends Tamaki’s body rigid.

“Oop, I think you touched something you shouldn’t have, Nejire,” Mirio gestures to the steely expression written over their friend’s face.

Dealing with children was one thing, but you were another matter entirely.

Being enrolled at U.A. since their very first year, the senior students of the hero and support departments coincided together. They drew out each other’s potentials—whether it was fighting on the battlefield or producing new innovative gadgets in workshops. Naturally, within that time, Tamaki developed a fondness for you.

You were a spirited individual driven by your passion for creating and bringing out the very best out of everyone you worked with, which included himself. With him, you were patient, never one to discourage or berate him despite his nervous and awkward nature that he viewed as probably a displeasure to work with. You took all his strengths and weaknesses to heart, and created the right tools to make him shine in triumph.

If Tamaki is the dead night, then you are the moon and stars that lit up his dark twilight, enlightening the world with his true potential.

However, the boy has never brought up his feelings to you, driven back by the thought you didn’t reciprocate, or wanted to focus more on your future as a craftswoman rather than prattle with romance. To bring you up in his dilemma of having to interact with mere elementary school kids is the last thing he wants to do.

“I don’t—”

“C’mon Tamaki! This is the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone!” Nejire enthusiastically waves a finger ready to describe her expertly thought-out plan. “You come to ____ asking for some of her gear, the ordeal brings you closer together, and then boom, you naturally confess your feelings and then impress those kids next week!” She sits with a proud, lifted head and hands on her hips after explaining her master proposal.

“Hm that’s quite an ambitious plan, Nejire,” chuckles Mirio.

“Way too ambitious if you ask me,” Tamaki scowls, uncertainty forming in his features.

“Confessing to someone you’ve liked for so long doesn’t come that easily…”

Nejire pouts, spinning the last remnants of her pasta around her fork. “Well I say you should still think it over! If anything, the new gear could help.”

And so he does. Lunch soon passes in the next flutter of an eyelash. During an academic class, Tamaki ponders the idea a bit more until it’s eventually time for their hero training course.

Lo and behold, he’s standing right outside the development studio with wickedly narrow brows and contemplating eyes, acting like if he glared at the door hard enough, all his problems would be solved. With his feet cemented into the ground, he doesn’t budge for the next couple of minutes. His mind bounces between his predicament and the possible solutions at hand, reaching to a standstill. Ultimately, he knows nothing will come out of not making a decision, so after another second of thought, he decides to progress.

The steel door jars open at a slide of the handle and Tamaki ganders at the messy workspace before him. He navigates through a mess of gizmos and gadgets with careful hesitant steps.

“____? Are you in here? I, um, need your help with something,” he calls, tentative voice drawing out across the room.

“Tamaki? Is that you?” He hears the distance between your voices, “Sorry, I’ll be with you in just a minute…”

He nods to no one in particular, standing in place as his fingers play with the hem of his white, hooded cape. Too late to turn back now, he thinks. While he dawdles, he can’t help but let his eyes wander around the room, eyeing the vast amounts of meticulously crafted contraptions and accessories all developed in a high school workshop.

The support course sure is something else, Tamaki regards the creativity such students have, being able to construct so many complicated gadgets. He doesn’t know how you do it, but supposes that was another charm about you that he admired so much.

Suddenly, a whirring noise catches his attention, and he turns in its direction. He spots a device flaring in place on a table across from him, the widget shifting and flashing into an assortment of colors that isn’t comfortable for his liking.

“Uh… ____… C-Can you come out real quick? I think there’s something wrong with this thing,” he warns, tone rising with every dissonant sound the device continues to resonate.

“OK Tamaki, I’m done. What do you need— Whoa!”

Your words are cut off by Tamaki, pulling you to him using vines sprouted from his fingers, thanks to the vegetables he managed to eat today. Confused, you brace against his chest as the evident droning whir increases in volume. Tamaki holds a wavering hand over the device.

“Ah wait, Tamaki, you really shouldn’t touch that!” you cautioned. However, Tamaki’s entire hand transforms into a giant clam that quickly envelopes the contraption just as it flares and reaches its peak. He contains the small burst of energy within his shell with a wince, preventing any catastrophe from befalling on both of you and the work studio.

“Hehe, told you,” you shakily laugh off which makes him sigh as he releases you from his steady grasp.

“____, you could’ve gotten severely hurt,” he chides.

“But I didn’t because of you, so thank you very much, Suneater,” you say with a grin. Tamaki slightly tugs his hood down to obscure the growing blush on his cheeks that threaten to expose his flustered reaction to your gratitude.

“It... It was nothing,” he manages. You nod in response before approaching the faulty contraption, shifting your gaze side-to-side to inspect the damage.

“Sorry about that, I think this is one of Hatsume’s inventions from Class 1-F.”

You toss it into a pile of other defective equipment, relaying in your mind to reprimand your junior later.

“Anyways, is there anything I can do for you, Tamaki? You said something about needing my help?” Ah, right, he nearly forgot. He slowly nods.

“I need some new gear…” he admits. A light of passion infused with curiosity dazzles in your eyes.

“What for? Going to face a new powerhouse crime organization next week? Ooh, maybe another gangster threat in the criminal underground? Or perhaps you need something to combat a future natural disaster?” you surmise, but Tamaki only avoids your gaze at all your grand guesses when comparing it to the true reason:

“I need something to impress these kids I’ll be talking to next week…” he mutters under his breath, as if embarrassed.

“Huh?” You knit your eyebrows, muddled by the answer. Tamaki’s head imbues with self-conscious, anxious thoughts about what you must be thinking. However, your response to his predicament is one that leaves him more perplexed than you are.

“Why? You don’t need any gear to impress anyone. You’re fine the way you are,” you say without a single pause or hint of doubt in your tone. Tamaki pauses, grabbing his bearings at your statement before eyeing his spread out hands, unsure.

“But I’m so plain, not flashy or charismatic like Mirio and Hadou… Would kids like me the way I am?” he urges the question with uncertainty, keeping his stare on his calloused palms.

Would you like me the way I am?

You reach out for his hands, holding your own over them and bringing his wavering gaze to peer into yours.

“Tamaki, the kids will like you for who you are as long as you’re passionate about what you’re aiming to do. And that’s to save everyone and become a hero, right?” you assure, slightly tilting your head.

“You protected me without even a thought in your mind just now. That makes you heroic and courageous,” you continue, “Your nervous and shy personality are just small little quirks about you that make you who you are. You don’t need to change that.”

A smile of pure adoration forms on your lips. “Plus it’s what I like so much about you.”

Tamaki’s eyes lift in realization at your statement, his hands slowly gripping yours from below like he may not have heard you correctly.

“You like me?” he repeats, and you nod your head.

“I’ve liked you since our first year, silly.” You giggle at the stunned look etched on his face.

“I…” his words are caught in his throat for a second over the growing developments, but with every ounce of his being, he musters them out, his tone laced in only warmth and affection for you.

“I’ve liked you too, ___, I-I always have. You were so dazzling that I couldn’t help but let these feelings for you grow, and now, I’m glad I got to say them to you.” He finally admits to all the emotions stirred inside him for the past three years, and your smile widens. You inch forward, planting a small peck on his cheek that renders him a flustered mess from the surprise.

“Alright, go show those kids who Suneater is next week!”

Nejire’s plan was a success, after all.

[stickers-on-a-laptop]

we don't love each other any more (why not)

May, 1998

“Class, I have some exciting news for you!”

Eight year old Adachi Kiyoshi sat up straighter in his seat, wondering what the news could be.

“Our class is going to be writing letters with a class in Tokyo, and I already have the letters from your pen pal of the year!”

The class “oohed”, intrigued by pen pals from the big city.

“Since our class is smaller than theirs, some of you will have two pen pals. Your pen pals were chosen at random, so no complaining, okay? We’ll spend the morning reading our letters and responding to them.”

Adachi nodded with the rest of the class. Hanamoto-sensei started passing out the letters, and Adachi wondered what kind of pen pal he’d have.

“Here you go, Adachi-kun,” Hanamoto-sensei said.

“Thank you, sensei,” Adachi said as he took the letter from her. Hanamoto-sensei smiled at him before giving his seat partner her letters.

Adachi stared at the letter for a few seconds, admiring his pen pal’s writing on the envelope before opening it.

Hi Adachi Kiyoshi!

My name is Kurosawa Yuichi and I like baseball, baksetball, and swimming! My birthday is february 22nd and my blood type is B. I live with my big sister Yumiko, my parents, and a cat named Chibi. Do you have any pets? What do you like to do? When is your birthday? I’m watching Seijuu Sentai Gingaman , do you watch it too? Aneki says I shouldn’t sing the theme song but what does she know. My favorite subject is history, what bout you? Sensei says you live in the country side, what do you guys do for fun? Here we go to the arcade and stuff. Oops, we’re running out of time. Can’t wait to hear from you!

-your friend, Kurosawa Yuichi

Adachi smiled at the letter. He liked this person. He pulled out a piece of paper and started writing back.

Hello Kurosawa Yuichi

I’m Adachi Kiyoshi, and I like drawing and origami. My birthday is October 1st, and I’ll have to ask my mom my bloodtype. I forgot. I live with my parents and my little brother Kazuya, but everyone calls him “Kiba”. I don’t have any pets, but I see my grandma a lot and she has dogs. I watch that show too! The blue one is my fovarite favorite. I like art best. We just play around, there’s stuff to explore. How much older is your sister? Kiba is two years younger, so he’s six. Are you good at the sports you mentioned? What’s it like in the city? I want to hear from you too.

-Adachi Kiyoshi Adachi drew little Super Sentais around his letter before putting it carefully into an envelope, carefully putting Kurosawa’s name on it.

“Everyone done with your letters? Pass them forward, please. We’ll be doing this once or twice a month, for the rest of the year,”  Hanamoto-sensei said.

The class cheered.

March 1999

Ki-tan, I can’t believe this is the last letter I’ll be sending you! Actually, this is my address, cause I want to keep talking to you.

〒XXX-XXX

XXXXXXXXXXXX X-X-X

黒沢 優一

Please write me even though it’s not required anymore!

-Yuichi

Adachi felt happiness flicker in him. While not hated or bullied, he was mostly left alone by the majority of his classmates. He had a few friends, but he was quiet and not good at socializing.

Yucchan, my address is

〒XXX-XXX

XXXXXXXXXXXX X-X-X

安逹清

I’ll look forward to your letters!

-Kiyoshi

April 1999

Ki-tan, my sister said that if you fold 1,000 paper stars, you can make a wish and it will come true. So I’m going to send 10 stars a letter and then I’ll wish to meet you! Also since we don’t have to wait for our teachers anymore, we can send more letters! And on different paper! My sister has a lot of stationary, and she’s letting me borrow it. But I have to do her chores. Oh well. Worth it.

-Yuichi

Adachi poured out the stars from the envelope, some of them a little squashed. He felt like making something to keep track of them, to see if Yucchan’s wish would come true. He got out graph paper and started sectioning it off with markers, making a ten by ten grid, with room to write dates on one side. He glued the stars into their respective spots, liking how it came out. But something was bothering him. He had learned something a little different.

“Hey, Dad?”

“Yes Kiyoshi?”

“Isn’t the myth that if you fold 1,000 paper cranes , your wish will come true? Yucchan said it was stars and sent some to me..”

Adachi’s father ruffled his hair. “Was that what you were working on? How bout you send him cranes and see which one works? It can’t hurt to try.”

Adachi considered his father’s words before nodding. He got out his origami paper and cut it into four, to make the cranes smaller.

Yucchan, I was taught it was 1,000 cranes for a wish, so I’ll send you ten cranes with my letters, and I’ll wish to meet you too. That would be cool! We could watch shows together and do other fun things.

-Kiyoshi

The years passed, and Adachi filled up ten grids of 100, but Yucchan kept sending stars, so he filled one of the jars his mother used for pickling vegetables. He kept sending cranes, as well. Yucchan’s letters were always on different stationary, and sometimes Adachi felt bad for usually using regular lined paper, with the occasional variety. However, Yucchan never minded. Adachi really liked all the different prints that his pen pal was able to send. Their talks turned to Kamen Riders, and animes they liked, and they would send each other music recommendations. There would be the occasional talk of friends, but never love. Adachi was too shy to ask anyone at his school out, and Yucchan never mentioned anyone. He figured Yucchan was like him, not too worried about it, even though it seemed like everyone was starting to talk about it once they hit fourteen. They never sent pictures, although Adachi was curious, and telephoning was too expensive for Adachi to consider it.

June 2005

The year Adachi turned fifteen, the letters from Yucchan abruptly stopped. He tried sending letters to find out what happened, but they got returned. Confused and upset, Adachi put all the letters into a box, along with the grids and the jar of stars. He figured it had finally happened, Yucchan had outgrown him. Some selfish part had hoped that he wouldn’t, but since it happened with all his friends, he wasn’t too surprised. Disappointed, but not surprised.

October 2006

Adachi turned seventeen, and his father died, making him change his plans of maybe becoming an art teacher to going into business, so he could support his mother. He applied for college in Tokyo, and got in. He became friends with Tsuge Masato, who was a lot like him. Adachi thought maybe they would actually continue being friends after college, which ended up happening even when Tsuge became a published author.

April 2013

He entered the working world when he got hired by Toyokawa, a stationary company. Despite not having talked to Kurosawa in years (he couldn’t quite think of him as Yucchan anymore), the stationary he had always sent left an impact on Adachi. He was hired with several other people, including a Kurosawa Yuichi, which had sent him into a slight panic before he remembered that 1) Tokyo was huge and 2) Kurosawa was a common name. It helped that this Kurosawa was in sales, where Adachi wouldn’t have to deal with him, especially considering how handsome the man was. A blinding smile, really.

He settled into a routine pretty easily, finding that it was a fairly relaxed workplace. His senpai was a bit loud, and prone to pushing work off himself, but good-natured. He ate his meals quietly, and alone, unsure how to make office friendships. He worked with other people, behind the scenes, never presenting in meetings, not really noticed, but good with his work. In the evenings, he could draw to his heart’s content, making enough money to buy the supplies he always wanted.

One afternoon, Adachi was done with his lunch, but not quite ready to go back to work. He still had about ten minutes left, anyways. He pulled out the small notebook he kept in his pocket and tore out a page, neatly making it into a square and turning it into a crane. He pulled out a pen and started coloring it, wanting it to look a bit different.

“Oh, Adachi-kun, I didn’t know you were into origami! Kurosawa-kun, from sales, is good at making the stars, you know with the long strips?” Fujisaki-san, who worked in his department and was about two years older, startled Adachi out of his coloring. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said in her gentle voice.

“It’s okay, I’m just...easily startled,” Adachi explained as her words sank in. “Wait, stars?”

“Mhm, Mimura-san asked him if he was trying to make a wish because he kept making them, and he said he already made his wish. She tried to ask him what it was but he wouldn’t answer. I wish the other women in the office would leave him alone,” she sighed.

Adachi sat frozen before he remembered that practically everyone knew how to make stars. He got up to go back to work, politely telling Fujisaki-san goodbye. However, no matter how much he reminded himself that the odds were extremely low that his childhood pen pal was in the same office , his concentration was shot. He ended up needing to stay later than he wanted, and the office slowly emptied around him. Eventually, it was only him and one other person, who he could hear quietly typing. He didn’t know who it was, though, since they were behind him.

A ringing phone interrupted his thoughts, loud in the silence of the room.

“Ah, sorry...Adachi, right? Do you mind if I answer this?”

“Go ahead,” Adachi answered, turning around and finding...Kurosawa, who looked a little frozen on realizing it was Adachi.

“On second thought, I’ll go to the hall.”

Adachi just nodded. He finished his work and was on his way out when he heard Kurosawa, who was trying to whisper but failing, distinctly say “No, Aneki, I couldn’t! Not if it’s actually Ki-tan!” He turned around and found Adachi, who felt frozen to the spot.

“Ki- Adachi?”

“Ki-tan?” Adachi whispered.

Kurosawa looked like he was trying to figure out where to start, a look Adachi had never seen on him since they started. Kurosawa was always full of confidence, knowing exactly what to say.

“Are you Adachi Kiyoshi from Hanamoto-sensei’s class?” Kurosawa finally asked, his eyes more intense than Adachi ever recalled seeing.

Adachi had had a long and stressful day, and finding out that this Kurosawa Yuichi was, indeed, Yucchan , was the icing on the cake. “And what if I am?” he snapped.

Kurosawa looked taken aback. “Well, that would mean you’re Ki-tan…”

“No offense, Kurosawa- san , you lost the right to call me Ki-tan when you stopped responding to my letters over seven years ago. No explanation, no goodbye, just poof! Gone. Like I hadn’t told you I enjoyed your letters more than whatever anime we were watching, like I hadn’t spent so much of my allowance on stamps, like it all meant nothing . I’ve gone through my fair share of friendships not working out, but that one took the CAKE. You want to know the saddest part, though? I chose this company because of you , because I couldn’t forget all the stationary YOU sent!” Adachi didn’t know he had been so frustrated about the entire thing until he realized that he had been shouting.

Kurosawa looked shell-shocked, and Adachi took the opportunity to leave, feeling too keyed-up for the elevator and instead running down ten flights of stairs.

The adrenaline lasted until he got to his apartment, where he realized he had given Kurosawa exactly zero chances to explain himself. He flopped onto the bed and buried his face into the pillow, feeling ashamed. His phone pinged. He looked at it and saw that Kurosawa had made use of the time they had exchanged Lines when they had been in a group together.

Kurosawa Yuichi

I guess I deserved that. But can I explain tomorrow?

Adachi Kiyoshi

You deserve a chance to explain.

Adachi rolled over and looked at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure how he was going to face Kurosawa, but knew that what he had done wasn’t really excusable.

Kurosawa Yuichi

Meet me in the park near work before we clock in, then?

Adachi Kiyoshi

Eight o’clock?

Kurosawa Yuichi

I’m sorry, I clock in at that time, can we do 7:30? Unless

you want to wait till after work.

Adachi Kiyoshi

7:30 is fine, I’ll see you there

He groaned. This meant getting up earlier, but he couldn’t wait until after work if he wanted to get anything done. Despite not having changed or anything, he set his alarm for forty-five minutes earlier and went to sleep.

Adachi got to the park fifteen minutes early, only to find Kurosawa already there.

“Ah,good morning, Ki--Adachi,” Kurosawa said.

“Good morning, Kurosawa,” Adachi replied. They stood in slightly awkward silence before Kurosawa motioned for Adachi to sit at a bench. He stayed standing, and Adachi saw that he looked nervous . Kurosawa stood in front of the Section Chief all the time, but he looked nervous in front of Adachi . He didn’t get it.

“Where to begin...I guess the beginning. In 1998, we got randomly picked to be pen pals. We sent letters to each other for about seven years, when I suddenly disappeared. It was not my choice. My father decided that he didn’t want me to be writing to anyone that wasn’t a good ‘connection.’ He forbade the maids from giving me your letters, instructing them to send them back. I think his plan was to make you think we had moved or something. He also threw away all the things you had sent, to make a point.”

“That doesn’t explain why you didn’t send a letter explaining what was going on,” Adachi said, although he hadn’t realized Kurosawa’s parents were so strict. He vaguely remembered Kurosawa talking more about his sister than any other family members, rarely mentioning his parents, while Adachi freely told him about things he had done with his parents.

“Adachi...I’m a coward. I didn’t want to risk him finding out that I had sent a letter, so I never did. By the time I moved out at eighteen, I figured you never wanted to talk to me again. And…” Kurosawa looked like he was fighting himself.

“And…?”

“And I did the stupidest thing possible.”

Adachi was lost. “Which was…”

Kurosawa looked miserable. “I fell in love with my pen pal, who I had never seen, and stopped talking to. I think my parents suspected...When I found out there was an Adachi Kiyoshi in the office, I thought it had to be a fluke. But Fujisaki-san mentioned that you liked doing origami, and I started paying attention. And...I saw the boy I talked through in letters. Your kindness, your love for stationary….all of it.”

Adachi felt like he couldn’t breathe. It was a lot to take in. He had gone nearly twenty-three years without so much as a glance from anyone and now his childhood pen pal was confessing his love to him.

“Adachi, I don’t expect you to return these feelings. But you deserved to know, especially after I disappeared from your life without a word. You can pretend I never said anything, and if you want to just be co-workers, I will respect that. Ki-tan and Yucchan can be people we knew in the past, not people we know now. We’re just two new hires, working at the same company.”

Adachi wondered if Kurosawa knew how sad his face looked.

“Well, that was the explanation. I’m sorry it wasn’t very happy and I’m sorry that I’m a coward. But forget it happened, you’ll be much happier that way,” Kurosawa said softly before taking his briefcase and walking towards their work.

Adachi watched him go, wondering what on Earth had just happened.

“He likes you? The one who disappeared on you?” Tsuge asked.

“Apparently! My life feels like a drama. What happened to this being a boring office job,” Adachi sulked over the izakaya table.

“Do you like him back?” Tsuge asked mildly.

Adachi considered Tsuge’s words. Since finding out that Kurosawa was Yucchan , he had been watching Kurosawa more. And while he thought people in the office saw him as the great new hire, he could see the Yucchan he wrote to almost weekly. The Yucchan that disliked most sweets, except for caramel; the Yucchan that sometimes made things too complicated for no reason, just like his mother; the Yucchan that was used to being only his face.

“...maybe?” Adachi hadn’t really considered who , exactly, he liked in school.

“It’s a start,” Tsuge replied. “You should tell me how it ends up.”

“I would say no, because you’ll use it for a book, but who else would I tell,” Adachi grumbled, glaring at Tsuge.

Tsuge just smiled.

Hello Kurosawa Yuichi,

I’m Adachi Kiyoshi, and I like drawing and origami. My birthday is October 1st, 1990, blood type B. I live in Tokyo, in a small apartment. I don’t have any pets, but I like cats. I like the manga Ragna Crimson, and I don’t have a favorite subject. I do have a favorite cafe. Do you still play baseball, basketball, or do swimming? Do you have a favorite place in the city? I would like to hear from you.

-your friend, Adachi Kiyoshi

P.S. Did you know that if you fold 1,000 origami stars or cranes, your wish will come true?