#I have so many Thoughts about them too so I was scattered when I wrote this one but hopefully it reads okay!

[paper--moons]

so excited asks are open!!! idk if you remember but i sent an ask a while ago about overwatch, and was wondering if you could do regressor hanzo hcs, maybe with cg cassidy or even genji?? i can’t find any overwatch agere content and it’s so sad :( tysm i love your writing!!!!

I do indeed recall your original ask, yes!

This was definitely something of a special one for me to do, as the game holds some nostalgia for me—when the original Overwatch came out I was fresh out of high school and had a lot to figure out (I still do!) about what I wanted out of life. During this period I was able to make some friends through the game, and I think having a silly little competitive something to do was good for me as I've never been a very competitive person. So to have something relatively low stakes but engaging while I was figuring out some big things was nice, though I do understand some issues have arisen with the franchise in later years.

Having said that, you've given me one of my mains! If I wasn't playing D.Va then I was playing as Hanzo, and I like to think I did fairly well haha. So yes, big comfort character! While I wish there was more lore to the series and by extension its characters, there's enough there to work with imo (as things like character design, voice lines, and mechanics themselves provide a glimpse into said character). This one had me dusting off some old headcanons and putting a fresh spin on them, since I was already into agere even at that time! You're absolutely correct that there is very little agere fanworks for these characters because I was starving for it back then.

Anyhow! The headcanons can be read over here. Hope you enjoy them, and thanks so much for the request! 🌙

[lxvsiick]

ICED COFFEE | JAKE SIM X READER

PAIRING: down bad! jake sim x nonchalant! fem! reader

SUMMARY: Jake visits the cafe every day to study but to only order drinks and watch his crush work.

GENRE: cafe, crushing, down bad jake, fluff

WORDCOUNT: 1.3k

A/N: I thought of the idea yesterday but wrote it today while thinking about coffee -- i really want some coffee right now but idk if im willing to walk through my campus for that ... um anyways, enjoy!

‧˚꒰🐾꒱༘⋆

The hum of conversation and the clatter of mugs filled the cozy coffee shop, sunlight filtering through the windows as customers quietly worked or chatted. Jake sat at a table near the counter, his textbooks sprawled open in front of him, but his eyes were far from the pages. Instead, they were glued to Y/n as she moved behind the counter, efficiently taking orders and preparing drinks.

He pretended to scribble something down in his notebook, glancing up every few seconds just to watch her pour a latte or chat with a customer. He’d been here for hours, supposedly to study, but all he’d done was order drinks he didn’t even want and admire the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she concentrated.

“Dude, you haven’t touched your notebook in over an hour,” Heeseung suddenly said, sliding into the seat next to him.

Jake jumped, startled out of his trance, as his six friends filed into the coffee shop, smirking knowingly.

“What are you guys doing here?” he muttered, trying to sound casual as he shut his notebook.

Jay raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “We’re here to witness this trainwreck.”

The others snickered, pulling up chairs around his table. They were grinning, fully aware of why he was there in the first place. Sunghoon across from him leaned in, smirking. “How many drinks have you ordered so far just to keep watching her?”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I’m just...you know, getting some studying done. That’s all.”

“Right,” Ni-ki drawled, glancing over at the counter where Y/n was working. “And totally not here because you’re down bad for her.”

The group broke into quiet laughter, and Jake shot them a warning look. “Shut up, she’ll hear you.”

“She probably already knows,” Sunoo teased. “How could she not? You’ve been sitting here like a lovesick puppy for hours.”

Before he could respond, Y/n came out from behind the counter, walking over to their table with a no-nonsense expression. She glanced at them, her hands on her hips, looking every bit the part of a no-nonsense employee.

“I just got a complaint about a group being too loud,” she said coolly, her eyes flicking to Jake and then back to the rest of them. “Keep it down, or you’re getting kicked out.”

His friends stifled their laughter, shooting each other amused glances, but Jake just sat there, trying—and failing—to look casual.

“Yeah, yeah,” Heeseung said, grinning up at her. “We’ll behave. Promise.”

Y/n nodded, giving them one last look before turning and walking back to the counter. Jake couldn’t help but watch her, and his friends caught him staring—again.

“You’ve got it bad, man,” Jungwon said, shaking his head. “Like, embarrassingly bad.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, cheeks flushing slightly. He couldn’t help it. She was right there, and every time she looked his way, it felt like his heart was trying to jump out of his chest.

Jay leaned in, still chuckling. “How long are you gonna pretend to ‘study’ before you finally ask her out?”

“I’m not pretending,” Jake protested, though even he didn’t believe it.

“You’ve been pretending since you walked in,” Ni-ki quipped. “And now we’re here to enjoy the show.”

As his friends continued to tease him, Jake let out a defeated sigh. They weren’t wrong—he was hopelessly in love with her. But for now, all he could do was watch her from across the room, his heart pounding every time she looked his way.

‧˚꒰🐾꒱༘⋆

The café had quieted down after the rush, leaving only a few customers scattered at tables, sipping their drinks or working on laptops. Jake remained at his table, idly tapping his pen against his notebook. He hadn’t been doing much studying since his friends left, but he wasn’t about to go home either—not when Y/n was still working behind the counter.

The bell above the door jingled, and an older male customer stepped in, glancing around before heading straight for the counter where Y/n stood. Jake watched as she greeted the man with her usual professionalism, her voice calm and polite as she took his order.

But something about the man’s demeanor put Jake on edge. He leaned forward, watching the exchange more closely.

“So, do you work here every day?” the man asked, leaning over the counter with a sly grin.

Y/n offered a polite smile, staying professional. “Only on some days. What can I get for you?”

“Maybe your number?” the man said, not-so-subtly ignoring the menu. “A girl like you probably has a long line of guys waiting, huh?”

Jake felt his stomach twist, a flash of annoyance flickering across his face. Y/n, however, remained calm.

“Just here to work,” she replied, her tone firm but still courteous. “Would you like to order something?”

The man chuckled, unfazed. “Come on, don’t be like that. How about after your shift? We could grab a drink.”

Jake clenched his jaw. He could tell Y/n was handling it professionally, but the guy wasn’t taking no for an answer. Standing up, Jake crossed the room before he even realized what he was doing.

Approaching the counter, he slipped into a role that he hoped would help.

“Hey,” he said, pretending to be irritated. “What’s taking so long? I’ve been waiting to order forever.”

The older man turned to look at him, clearly not pleased by the interruption.

Jake shot him an impatient glare. “I mean, you’ve been standing here for ages. Some of us are thirsty, you know?”

The customer frowned, clearly annoyed. “I’m ordering, kid. Relax.”

“Well, if you could hurry it up,” Jake said, folding his arms and acting like an impatient customer. “Some of us have places to be.”

The man huffed, grumbling under his breath before finally turning back to the counter. “Just a black coffee.”

Y/n rang him up, her face as neutral as ever, though her eyes flicked briefly to Jake, a hint of amusement there.

The older man paid for his coffee, still muttering, before walking away to wait for his order. Once he was out of earshot, Y/n let out a small breath, glancing at Jake with a faint smile.

“Thanks for that,” she said, her voice light but genuine. “He wasn’t getting the hint.”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck, flustered now that the moment had passed. “Yeah, no problem. I just...didn’t want to see him keep bothering you.”

She smiled at him, then, in her usual nonchalant way, asked, “So, what do you want to order this time?”

He stared at her for a moment, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and resignation. He hadn’t planned on ordering anything, but now that he was at the counter...

With a sigh of defeat, he glanced at the menu. “I’ll take... another iced coffee. Thanks.”

She chuckled softly, shaking her head as she started preparing the drink. He watched her, feeling both proud of stepping in and a little awkward for having to order yet another drink just to cover his tracks.

As she handed him the cup, she gave him a knowing look. “You should really start studying instead of ordering all these drinks.”

He couldn’t help but smile sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get right on that.”

She laughed softly before turning back to her work, leaving him to return to his table with his heart racing, though he tried to play it cool. At least, for now, he had an excuse to stay a little longer.

‧˚꒰🐾꒱༘⋆

MASTERLIST

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024

[oceanofsinners]

“They love me, they love me not.”

Yan!Pervy cupid x gn innocent succubi/incubi reader ♥︎

[mdni, or do, i don't care enough to block y'all tbh. NSFW, first time in a while writing it so apologies ack. tw/cw: mentions of violence, blood, religious stuff kinda. lmk if i have to add smth else too! also?? sorry for disappearing i got stuck in the hospital, ouchies!! also holy fuck this is 2.k words ive never wrote that much...]

Nova wasn't...normal. Well, to be fair, it wasn't their fault he was created this way. It was Father’s fault.

 

Being born a Cupid, but being unable to feel most emotions, or even love. How ridiculous. Pathetic, even. Compared to their brothers and sisters, he was useless.

 

They grew up alone and isolated, no one wanted a Cherub whose expression was always bored. No one wanted a Cherub who never wanted to play with the others or found joy in small things. 

 

He grew up in one of the few orphanages in Paradise, some human souls for foster parents who weren't able to have kids themselves, happy to have any.

 

Angels were meant to be cheerful and optimistic, they were neither. Many thought he'd grow up to be a Guardian Angel or an Archangel. 

 

Never a Cupid. Especially a Love Cupid. Maybe a Heartbreak Cupid, even Erotic Love Cupid, but Love? They didn't even truly understand what the word meant. Or so everyone thought. 

 

Angels were meant to be non-judgemental. Meant to be “kind” and believe in everyone. Angel’s are not. Angels are just as judgemental, perhaps even more than humans. 

 

The other Cupids always watched him in disdain when they were training, he always dragged their class down, being worse at it than most of the others.

 

But then, in high school, something changed. See, Angels and Demons typically don't like each other. 

 

Angels hate Demons for falling, and Demons hate the lies Angels say. But in the end, they are one and the same. 

 

Only one’s halo is broken, the other’s is perfectly fine. No, not halo, horns. If there was one thing special about Nova, it was their “halo“, or horns. 

 

They were a beautiful baby pink color that matched the pearly white hair that reached his shoulders, with pretty gold and bright pink streaks, that made their purple eyes pop. 

 

Even though Nova couldn't feel anything, he was beautiful. Freckles were made in the forms of constellations scattered over brown skin, and white eyelashes that looked like snowflakes. 

 

They were beautiful. Ethereal. An Angel, through and through. He never imagined they'd fall willingly, even hating the thought. 

 

But, maybe for one person, he would. That person is YOU. 

 

The Demons and Angels made an agreement, there was an academy built, for both Angels and Demons of all ranks and backgrounds, a sort of truce.

 

Nova was one of the angels chosen, amongst many others. They didn't care about it, just wanting it to be done already. To get the embarrassment over. 

 

Days turned into weeks of staying in the shadows, going to boring classes, eating lunch in empty classrooms, studying all night, and repeat. 

 

It was boring, but it's not like Nova had anything he could do about it. Another day of stupid school, of stupid wars between haughty Angels and Demons who liked fighting. 

 

Except this time, Nova got caught in the crossfire. Cuts covered their skin, golden blood leaking down and ruining his beautiful clothes.

 

One of the Demons had them pushed up against a wall, claws to his throat, and they stood there blank gaze. Nova raised a brow as the Demon got pushed, and went to walk away. 

 

Then YOU came. You seemed confused at the fight, trying to make peace despite it being fruitless. You paused at the sight of him, before gasping and quickly running over. 

 

“Ah, you're bleeding! Gosh, I told these dummies to stop fighting, they just don't listen!” You frowned, trying to appear upset but you just looked like a kicked puppy with a pout. 

 

You pulled them off to the side, reaching inside a black messenger back absolutely covered in cutesy stickers and pins from different bands. 

 

Nova took the time to look at you, really look at you. It was strange. Why was his heart beating so fast? Wings fluffing up? You were beautiful. One of the prettiest Demons they’d ever seen. 

 

That's what clued him into what you were, an Incubus or Succubus. Really, there was no difference between the two except for their behavior. Incubus tended to be more assertive, and Succubus more passive. 

 

Before Nova could think about anything else, you pulled a first aid kit out, opened it up, and pulled a pack of bandaids out. 

 

You started disinfecting their wounds, before putting those cute, colored bandaids on each wound.

 

Nova looks silly like this, mostly black, Gothic ensemble, even with his pastel eyes and horns, they still looked less like an Angel and more like a Demon. 

 

And there you were, broken halo turned into a pair of horns, dressed in cutesy clothes, putting brightly colored bandaids on the mean-looking Cupid. 

 

With every fleeting touch, Nova felt embers light under his skin, his cheeks warming even further. ‘...What...What is this feeling? I don't...’

 

Before Nova even realized it, they were leaning even further into your cold, almost dead touch. You paused, before giggling and roping your arms around his shoulders. 

 

“Wow! You're super friendly, I like you, your hair too, it's super duper long! What's your name?” You asked, playing with his long hair, curling it around your fingers.

 

“Casanova. But people call me Nova, usually. What's yours?” Nova looked up at you, a lovesick hazy look in his purple eyes, heart pupils. How amusing. A Cupid falling for an Incubi/Succubi. What are the odds? 

 

“Oh! Right! It's—” Before you can finish, a teacher begins herding everyone to their classes. Nova’s pissed —‘How...Why do I feel so angry?’— but goes along with it, delighted to see you wave with a sheepish grin, fangs showing. 

 

Nova doesn't know your name. But he doesn't need to. You're his angel in their mind, the one and only made for him. 

 

Very quickly you become a prominent part of his life, their parents even allowing you to stay at their house while the program goes on, happy to see their child so happy for once. 

 

With so many emotions suddenly hitting him all at once, it's no shock they fall harder than he should, becoming obsessed fast and hard. 

Nova begins realizing things they'd never realized before. The curves of your body. Those soft eyes he wants to see sobbing from pleasure. Those lips open, gasping their name—

 

But it ends far too soon. The program is forced to close, and you're gone just as fast as you came. Nova hates how empty he feels when you're gone, wondering how he ever lived without you.

 

He feels cold inside, a part of him disappearing with you. Something they can NEVER get back. He tries to be normal, smiling when he should, crying when he should, just be normal. 

 

It's easy for a while. To pretend. No, BE normal. Far too soon, or maybe far too late, he graduates high school. Then college. 

 

Years fly by, “friends” come and go, lovers he didn't give a shit about disappear after they get bored, and more and more blood then just his is on their hands. 

 

But you weren't always gone. You'd sneak out of hell and sneak onto paradise sometimes, and hang out with them. But it wasn't enough. He wanted all of your time and attention on him. Just once, they want someone to be there as a constant. 

 

Eventually he lands a job at Soulmates Corp. A Cupid work place, and he starts working. It's actually pretty simple and interesting. Sure, they don't use bow and arrows — usually. But being able to look through humans lives, to choose who they fall for. It's interesting. 

 

And then, one night, you innocently invite him to a club in hell. They instantly agree, after all, it's YOU. His angel, their savior, his LIFE LINE. Their EVERYTHING. 

 

Funnily enough, over the years the two swapped clothing styles. Nova wore more cutesy, sweet, pastel color clothes, and you wore darker, more “sexy” clothes. 

 

Nova arrived at the club, absentmindedly toying with the pockets of his pastel blue cardigan. Tonight would be the last night of your freedom - independance, after all! 

 

Nova walks in, you on his side, some of your friends accompanying the two of you. He could care less about these bastards, and soon makes sure to seperate you from your “friends”.

 

He watches you with loving eyes the entire night, making sure you get drunk so bad you can't stand. It's easy, you're too trusting. Too innocent for this world. 

 

He'll save you, just like you saved them! Eventually they take you to their place. At first it's tame. Friendly. 

 

“N—Novaaahhhh...C’mere, I hic! wanna see yer pretty faceeee...” Your voice is whiny, the alcohol really hitting you hard. Nova coos, walking over. 

 

They yelp, quite loudly, as you drag them onto the bed, curling into his side. It's innocent. His thoughts should be too. 

 

But all they can think about is your chest pressed against their arms, how easy it would be to just slip your shirt to the side, and touch. Feel.

 

He shakes his head, even if you're both drunk, he can't take advantage of you like that. They refuse to taint you, and that pretty little head of yours. 

 

Stuck in their own thoughts, Nova doesn't even realize you straddle him until it's too late. Your eyes are hazy with lust and alcohol, and he can't help but gulp nervously. 

 

“Angel, really, you...you need to sleep.” Nova tries to reason with you, but reasoning with a horny, drunk Demon, much less an Incubi or Succubi is like arguing with a wall. 

 

You whine, lips lazily smashing against his. Nova can't help but melt into it, and they hate how hard they are from just a touch, a single kiss. 

 

This is wrong. Both of you know this. Yet neither of you can stop it. One kiss turns into two, into three. 

 

“An-Angel!” Nova gasps out as you nip at his collarbone, their neck already covered in love bites and pretty blue and purple bruises. 

 

“Mmph..Wan’ more...Need more, Nova...” You growled out, one hand playing with his chest the other curled in their hair. 

 

More marks. More bites. So many. He looked so pretty like this, a crying mess under their ‘innocent’ friend. 

 

Still, he held enough restraint to stop you, not wanting to ruin your first times together. But, due to your insistence, they do give you some pleasure~

 

Nova sits on his knees, you splayed out on their silk sheets, your slick dripping onto the bed as you whined. Hips jerking up to meet his tongue, hands curled around their halo. 

 

Nova’s tongue swirls against your sex, whining from the taste of your juices against his tongue. It was better then he imagined all those nights, hand playing with their cock, desperate for some relief. 

 

With every swipe and sucking of his mouth, you get closer and closer to that sweet relief you desperately need. With one last gasp, your eyes roll back and hips buck against Nova’s mouth. 

 

Nova laps up every bit of your sweet essence, fucking you through your orgasm. He's gentle after you finish, murmuring praises into your ears as they carry you to their bathroom. 

 

During the bath you end up falling asleep, Nova carries you to bed and the two fall asleep, intangled in each other. 

 

It's morning. Your eyes flutter open, yawning softly as you groaned. Fuck, that's a horrible headache. You glance around, pausing as you feel a weight beside you. What the...

 

Your eyes glide to the person laying beside you, and you pause, your cheeks warming. Nova. You're in Nova’s bed. 

 

Nova, the Cupid boy you met as a kid. Nova, the Cupid you fell for, hard. Nova, the Cupid who always seemed so clueless and innocent. 

 

And they truly look like an Angel right now. The sun shines against against his white hair and skin beautifully, wings folded behind them. 

 

Your face feels even warmer as embarrassment fills you as you see bite marks all over their neck. Bite’s are how Demon’s mark their claim, usually on their mates. Angel’s too. 

 

He let you bite them. And yet, you can't find yourself to be mad over it. Nova’s eyes flutter open, glancing up at you. A soft smile appears on their face, as they lean up and kiss you. 

 

The Angel traps you in his wings and you giggle, curling into them. He's yours, and your his even if you don't know yet. 

 

You took their heart a long time ago. It's time he takes yours too. ♥︎

[venomous-ragno]

One day whilst scrolling though Tumblr I saw a post (that I'd love to link but can't seem to find) by the lovely @konigdaddy and I was never the same after.

So I wrote it.

I take requests btw;)

Tags: König x you, female bodied reader, nsfw, you sit on his face and he absolutely devours you

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, face sitting, obvs nsfw

Masterlist

Unhinged. Wild. Relentless.

That's how you've come to know him, the king of the field; he whose presence alone commands respect. Recruits stiffen when he passes, shut their mouths and one would think they forgot to breathe when he levels them with those piercing blues of his - his achievements are well known and his silence speaks volumes.

Perhaps that's why you couldn't keep your eyes off him.

That lingering thought you tried to push back, only for it to return and fester in your mind like an open wound; you wanted to know more, needed to know more.

He knew.

He always knew.

Call it anxiety, call it a sixth sense, König never failed to recognise the warmth in his neck from your gaze stuck to it. He never mentioned it though. You expected him to call you out on it, ask you what the hell your problem was, that you should focus on something else, but it never came. He let you watch him. Eyes met, your gaze wavered and yet, when you looked back, his didn’t.

It's safe to say that he had you. Drawn like a moth to the flame, always following that light as if it were calling for you; took some months until you got to feel its warmth though.

A coincidence, really. You passed by the workshop after work and listened in on the mechanics idly chattering away. Their typical, unfiltered banter never failed to get a chuckle out of you, and as you warmed up to their rough but well meaning ways, a clapback or two as well.

It's safe to say you won them over in the short time you'd been a member of KorTac - but they made no such distinction as they waved you over, spoke of an outing with the squad, that you had no business missing out on.

You laughed. Of course you'd be there.

Alcohol, card games and drunken shenanigans. Drunk men who got to relax for once, drown their sorrows in terribly off tune pop songs as they accused each other of cheating only to forget all about it over some shots.

The booze would have your head swim. Surely. That knot in your abdomen a telltale sign of one glass too many. You'd stumble back to your dorm, plop down on your hard mattress and doze off, perhaps hug the toilet the mornibg after.

So how the hell did you end up like this?

Clothes lay scattered across the floor. A dorm room indeed, but not yours. Head dizzy and body hot, but not from any drink you may have had. And that knot in your abdomen, getting more and more intense the longer those thick arms wrapped around your thighs-

It's safe to say that your night should not have ended like this.

"Sit on my face."

Your breath hitches.

"What?"

König's relaxed eyes meet your wide ones. The empty shot glass rolls between his fingers.

"I said what I said."

"You're drunk", you reply. No doubt that the sheer, utter bewilderment in your tone didn't go past him.

"Strange", he leans back, throws his arm over the chairs lean. "I don't feel drunk."

You swallow hard. Throat dry and fingers clenching the glass in your hand, you push your luck, fuelled by the alcohol warming your cheeks.

"Then... What do you feel?"

You regret asking as soon as the words leave your lips. König smirks, tilts his head. You look in his eyes and bite your lip; that dark gleam you always thought to be your imagination... Is anything but.

König. One of KorTac's best and most wanted. The one you'd stolen glances at, thoughts wandering 'till your thighs rubbed against one another.

That very same man now breathed against your skin, decorated with hickeys and marks the shape of this teeth. Fingers dug into your thighs whenever your attention drifted off; he wanted you here, focus on him and nothing else. He hummed at your every whimper. Cupped your jaw to have your eyes meet his as he whispered to your lips:

"Let me hear you."

How could you not? He had you in his palm, melting between his fingers. You shivered at his very touch and he smirked a way that had you squirm. At this point you weren't even sure how long he'd been feasting on you. His tongue never left your skin, pushing deeper into you, circling, nibbling. König revered your taste, touch and feel. If you thought him to be drunk at the bar then he was nothing short of intoxicated now.

Your voice is breathless as you call out to him.

"Mhm", he mumbles.

His grip on you didn't ease even as your hips quivered at his tongue. He was relentless. Attacking your swollen clit time and time again, pressing to your hot lips, your core.

Your mouth goes dry and you still moan his name.

König doesn't let up. He licks and sucks and your body grows hotter by the second, hands desperately clenching the bedsheets, his hair, anything to help you stay grounded. Electric tingles, waves, then bolts, he keeps you flush to him, groaning with heavy breaths and you almost sob as the tension grows and grows and-

Nothing.

It takes your racing mind to catch on. Heart still beating in an unforgiving rythm, you whine at the ache, the lack of climax right about to hit you in all its might.

His low chuckle brings you back.

"Not yet." He licks his lips. "The night's still young, mäuschen."

[milkman-zahhak]

Shane drawing + written fic to accompany it

WARNING, THIS IS A KINK POST, A FETISH POST. IT WILL CONTAIN FETISH CONTENT, SUCH AS BELLIES FULL OF FOOD AND WHATNOT, CHECK THE TAGS FOR THE WHOLE RUNDOWN.

Hello, enjoy another drawing of Shane based off of some in-game dialogue.

Idk if this is base-game, part of one of the many dialogue mods I have installed, or one of the lines I added into the game's code myself to practice modding and to get used to editing dialogue files. I'd say the latter but I don't remember ever typing this so.. idk. Just assuming it's canon for now lol.

Anyways here's the drawing:

+ a short lame-ass gif attempt

I know it's terrible, I wish I could blur it or something so you could choose whether to see it or not, but oh well. Here's what you're probably all looking for, sorry again if my writing is bad, I haven't proofread it or anything, otherwise I would see what I wrote, and decide not to post it ever! So as usual this is all getting posted RAW and UNCUT!!1! That's why I post both the drawing and the writing- so that if one sucks, maybe the other will impress you and save the poor failure of a post. ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Shane sat back on the worn couch in their cozy farmhouse living room, licking the last bit of greasy residue from his fingers with a satisfied sigh. The empty plate in front of him was a testament to the gluttony that had taken hold of him, scattered with crumbs of one of his favorite snacks, pepper poppers. The farmer always made sure to keep the fridge stocked with them in case Shane got hungry while his husband was too busy to cook for him, since Shane's culinary skill peaked at reheating pre-existing meals in a microwave. Shane usually tries to be a bigger help around the farm when he can, doing what he knows best and caring for all of the animals (mostly the chickens) while his husband tended to the crops and went out foraging. All that hardworking farmer stuff. But today was rainy and stormy, the kind of day Shane liked to spend inside the house. He'd went out to the barn and the coop that morning and made sure the animals were okay, but that was about as much physical activity he had since waking up. Meanwhile, despite Shane's concerns and warnings to him, his husband insisted that he go out and fish in the storm, saying "Certain kinds of fish only come out in this weather, Shane. Besides, the rain means I don't need to water the crops today, I can get other chores done!"

So here he was, sitting on his ass in the house watching TV, the entire stock of pepper poppers he'd saved up for a day like this in front of him, or rather, the remainders of it. He had lost count of how many he had consumed, but it was undoubtedly more than he could handle. A warm, uncomfortable pressure began to build in his stomach, causing it to swell noticeably beneath his shirt. He looked down at his belly, which now protruded like a beach ball, and couldn't help but chuckle softly. The spicy treat had become somewhat of a weakness for him, and his husband knew it all too well.

"Oh, oh wow.. The farmer's gonna be home soon, and I'm such a mess", Shane thought, running a hand over his distended stomach. The heavy sensation of fullness and the audible rumbles signaling an incoming tummy ache were worrying, but he couldn't deny the strange satisfaction that came with it. He shifted his position, attempting to alleviate some of the discomfort, only to feel a loud gurgle reverberate throughout his torso. The sound made him blush, and he glanced around the room, hoping that no one else had heard it before remembering that he was home alone. Even if he wasn't, he had a hunch that his husband wouldn't mind seeing him like this anyways. Another gurgle echoed through his intestines, followed by an unmistakable sensation of gas brewing inside of him. Shane leaned to the side, carefully straining as a short, quick puff rushed out from behind him into his seat. "nhfh.." He grunted, holding back a cough as the scent of digesting pepper poppers lingered in the air.

With a groan, Shane shifted his weight on the couch, the couch creaking underneath him as he tried to sit up straight but ultimately slouched back down, regretting trying to preserve his dignity. His stomach gave another loud growl, followed by a series of smaller rumbles that made him cringe. "Pepper poppers, why do you have to taste so good but hurt me so bad?" Shane muttered to himself, rubbing his belly tenderly.

He knew all too well that they didn't agree with him sometimes. They'd make him feel bloated, gassy, and sometimes even give him heartburn and indigestion depending on how much he decided to pig out, but damn if they weren't worth it. He glanced over at the clock on the wall, realizing that his husband would be home soon.

"I should probably clean up this mess before he gets back", Shane thought, looking at the empty plates and greasy napkins littering the coffee table. He slowly pushed himself off the couch, letting out a small burp as he did so. He paused for a moment, waiting for any more gas to escape before he began to gather up the remnants of his indulgent day. His insides were churning up a storm but nothing else seemed to come out just yet. As he bent over to collect some of the napkins that fell on the floor, another gurgle sounded from his stomach, followed by a sharp pain that made him wince.

"Fuck," Shane cursed under his breath, clutching at his swollen midsection. He straightened up carefully, trying to ignore the discomfort as he made his way to the kitchen. Each step he took sent small tremors through his body, making him hyper-aware of every little movement in his stomach.

When he finally reached the kitchen, he deposited the plate into the sink and napkins in the trash can and took a deep breath, leaning against the counter for support. He couldn't help but feel self-conscious about his bloated appearance. He knew his husband loved him no matter what, but Shane couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed.

At this moment, the doorknob jiggled and he heard the front door creak open. It's as if the universe was reading his mind and taunting him. "Hey honey, I'm back! I caught a bunch of neat fish today! I think we might need more Wild Bait though because…" The farmer's words trailed off as he caught sight of Shane in the kitchen, his eyes drifting downwards onto the poor man's swollen belly. Shane could feel the heat rising to his cheeks as his husband's gaze swept over him, taking in the sight of his distress.

"Shane? Are you alright? You look…" the farmer trailed off, concern evident in his voice.

Shane forced a sheepish smile, taking his hand off of his belly, trying to play it cool despite the discomfort. "Urgh.. Y-Yeah, honey, I'm fine, just… *hic* ate too many pepper poppers…" he admitted, quickly going back to rubbing at his stomach again. He could feel the gas building up inside him, threatening to escape at any moment. He hoped that the farmer wouldn't notice, but the man had always been perceptive.

The farmer's eyes narrowed, and Shane knew that he wasn't fooling him one bit. "How many did you have? I mean, I have a whole chest of ingredients in the shed so I can always make you more, but I really thought this time I'd made you enough." he asked, a hint of amusement lacing his tone.

Shane shrugged noncommittally, not wanting to admit the truth. "You did, you made more than enough, sweetie…" Shane paused to let out a belch, only for it to get caught in his throat, the moment passing uncomfortably. "I just… I wasn't paying attention, and I ate more than enough." he mumbled, looking away. No point in feigning innocence now, not if he wanted any help with his developing bellyache.

The farmer chuckled, crossing the room to stand behind him. He wrapped his arms around Shane's waist, pulling him close so that his back was pressed against the farmer's own body. Shane let out a small squeak of surprise, followed by a louder gurgle from his stomach. The farmer's laughter grew louder at the sound, and Shane couldn't help but join in, despite the embarrassment.

"You know they always do this to you, snack-food is supposed to be eaten in moderation, y'know." the farmer said, kissing the back of Shane's neck.

Shane nodded, wincing slightly as another rumble echoed through the kitchen, the cause of which staying irritatingly trapped inside his stomach "Yeah, I know," he replied. "But I couldn't resist. ugh.. They taste so much better after being microwaved." The farmer's hand slid up to rub circles on Shane's distended belly, "Mmhmm, and I bet it's so easy to just keep eating without even thinking about it when they're all… soft and squishy.."

Shane rolled his eyes, the irony of such a description was not lost on him. The farmer couldn't resist teasing Shane some more, rubbing his hands over the swollen belly and giving it a few gentle pats. Shane's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red as the movement caused more gas bubbles to form and shift. "You're adorable, you look like you're pregnant, haha! " the farmer laughed, his fingers tracing patterns on the taut flesh "Kidding, haha. Swallowing seems to be your strong-suit no matter the situation, huh?"

Shane tried to play it off, swatting at the farmer's hand weakly. "Stop!" he said between giggles and groans, "It's not funny!" But deep down, he knew that his husband's touch was helping him relax, even if it made things worse temporarily. The farmer was always so attentive, always knowing just what to do to make him feel better. And just what to say to get under his skin and make him squirm.

Just then, Shane's stomach gave a particularly loud growl, followed by a deep, low burp, like a warning signal. "*bhrrruurup*… uh, 'scuse me.." The farmer's grin faltered slightly, his eyes flickering to Shane's face as he felt the tension return to his husband's body. "Oooohohooohhhh… " Shane moaned, clutching at his belly "f-fuck, they're really doing a number on me". The gas was building up inside him, pressing against his insides like a balloon ready to burst. He could feel the pressure increasing by the second.

"Come on," the farmer said, taking Shane by the hand and leading him back to the couch, "Let's get you comfortable."

The farmer sat Shane back down on the couch, his belly jiggling slightly from the effort it took to move. He sat down next to him and began rubbing his hand gently over his stomach, trying to ease the discomfort. Shane leaned back, letting out a couple of hiccups. "Fuck, that hurts," he muttered, trying relax himself. The farmer chuckled, his eyes filled with warmth and amusement as he continued to rub circles around Shane's navel. "Relax, dear. You know the drill by now." He was right, Shane had experienced this kind of thing many times before after indulging in his favorite foods. His stomach was just sensitive.

Or maybe his favorite foods being greasy, cheesy pizza, soda, peppers, and spicy pepper poppers was the culprit behind his frequent tummy troubles- but as he's said before, he'd rather die before abstaining from any of those foods.

As the farmer's hands kneaded gently into the surface of Shane's aching belly, they loosened up a few air bubbles that were previously trapped. Shane's gasps and groans were interrupted by airy little burps. "There we go~" the farmer cooed, enjoying the little moans that followed almost every time his husband burped. For as much relief as they brought him in the moment, more gas was building inside of him rapidly as his stomach tried to digest everything. Shane knew this was only the beginning of what was bound to be a long night. The farmer leaned down, pressing his ear against Shane's stomach, listening to the symphony of sounds emanating from within. "Sounds like your stomach's waging a war on you in there." he joked, his breath tickling Shane's skin. Shane groaned in embarrassment, but couldn't help but laugh a little, too. The farmer always knew how to lighten the mood. But as his nimble fingers dug into the sensitive flesh of his lower belly, Shane's laughter turned into moans of both pleasure and discomfort. He couldn't deny that there was something erotic about this situation, even though he knew it shouldn't be. "*hic-uuurp.. uuurp*... ughhh, feels… so tight.." He whined.

Shane flinched as his intestines let out a sickly rumble, he knew his husband could feel and hear it from the outside. "Just let it out, it's gotta happen at some point" the farmer whispered, his hand now firmly kneading Shane's lower stomach. Shane nodded, biting his lip. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let go. A loud, long fart echoed inside the room, making them both laugh uncontrollably.

The tension dissipated as the gas escaped, and Shane slumped back onto the couch, relieved for a moment "oh fuck, finally.." he sighed. As the minutes passed, Shane's burps became more frequent and less forceful - small puffs of air escaping his lips like a steam engine letting off steam. He shifted on the couch, farting once more. "Buhhhh.. I don't feel good.."

He was a burpy mess. He struggled to speak between them "I'm so *uuurp* bloated" he whined, looking down at himself with disgust. His stomach was round and hard, protruding against his shirt. He felt each gurgle and bubble as his stomach contents churned like a pot of boiling soup- if the soup was made entirely of pepper poppers and grease. He couldn't believe how much he'd eaten - it felt like he'd never be able to move again. *hic…… hic….*

"oh no, f- *hic* fuck.." Shane moaned. each hiccup jostled his already sensitive belly. He put both his hands on the sides of his poor bloated belly, trying to keep it steady while his husband rubbed it. Suddenly, another hiccup shook Shane's frame, only this time it was accompanied by air being forced out after being sucked in by the initial hiccup. His entire body tensed up and he let out a painful groan. "*hic-uuurp* fuck, that h- *hic-uoorrrp* guh… hurts.." The farmer's hand paused mid-rub, looking down at his husband with a mix of concern and arousal "Aw, you poor thing. I can't stop hiccups.. um, just…. Try not to swallow too much air?" Shane whimpered in response "*hic* can't.. help it.. *hic-uuurp* ow… oooohhh.. *hic-uurlp* ow…" "Just hang in there," the farmer reassured him, rubbing his back now. they were both a bit less talkative for a few minutes as Shane groaned in pain. Eventually his hiccups became less frequent, replaced instead by deeper and wetter belches. but the whole ordeal of uncontrollable hiccups still left Shane exhausted. "*buuuuurp* ugggh… so gurgly… *buuuu-ulp* oooh.." Shane managed to say through clenched teeth.

The farmer nodded sympathetically, rubbing Shane's back with slow, comforting circles. He couldn't help but admire the way his husband's belly moved with every burp, the firmness of it beneath his hands. It was fascinating, in a weird sort of way. The farmer moved in closer next to Shane, resuming his gentle massages on his husband's stomach. His hands moved in slow, deliberate circles, trying to coax any remaining gas out gently.

Shane's breathing was deep and labored, his chest rising and falling with each exhale. "ngh… ohhhhh.. *frrrrrt pffffrr-brrpt* ah.." Shane trembled as he felt pressure building near his backside, unable to hold anything back. After a small toot, realizing it was only another fart, Shane actively pushed a little bit, forcing the air out. "Better?" the farmer asked.

The farmer's touch was soothing, his concern evident as he continued to massage Shane's belly. Shane couldn't deny the strange mix of embarrassment and arousal he was feeling - it wasn't everyday someone else got to see him in such a state. But something about his husband's tender massages made him feel cared for and safe. He nodded weakly, a small smile playing on his lips. "Y-yeah.. thank you." He murmured, leaning into the farmer's touch.

The farmer smiled, his thumb pressing against Shane's belly button as he worked his way around the taut surface. The pressure built again, and Shane even try to hold anything in. He let out a long, wet fart, followed almost immediately by a hefty burp. The farmer laughed softly under his breath. "Good boy." He praised, leaning in to plant a kiss on Shane's cheek. Shane's face reddened at the praise, but he couldn't help but feel a spark of arousal at the gentle dominance in his husband's tone. He bit his lip, trying to contain himself as the farmer's hands continued to work their magic. His belly felt a tiny bit lighter now, the gas slowly leaving his body. The farmer's hands moved lower, accidentally brushing against Shane's crotch. He let out a small yelp at the sudden contact, his erection straining against the fabric of his pants almost as much as his belly strained against his waistband.

"Sorry," He mumbled, turning his face away and burying it in his hands. "It's just… you know.. *uuurp* mmph, you.. You're touching me so much.. a-and rubbing me…" he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence. The farmer chuckled again, his hand resting lightly on Shane's hip. "It's okay, sweetheart." He said softly, giving Shane's side a gentle squeeze. "We've been married for years, I know how your body works." He paused, his eyes meeting Shane's briefly before looking away. "And honestly, it's adorable."

The farmer's words sent another wave of heat through Shane, his embarrassment giving way to full-fledged arousal. He shifted slightly, trying to adjust himself without drawing too much attention. But it was no use - every movement seemed to shake his overstuffed belly, reminding him of his predicament. He could feel the farmer's eyes on him, taking in every detail.

"W-why are you looking at me like that?" Shane stammered, trying to sound playful but failing miserably. The farmer's gaze softened as he reached out and cupped Shane's cheek, turning his face towards him. "Because I find you incredibly sexy right now," he admitted, his voice low and husky. Shane's eyes widened in shock before a small smile tugged at his lips. He couldn't believe it - he felt like such a mess, but the farmer found him attractive?

Shane's smile grew wider, a sense of warmth spreading throughout his body. He couldn't believe that his husband found him attractive even in such an unflattering state. He leaned into the touch, nuzzling against the farmer's palm like a content cat. The farmer's thumb traced circles on his cheek as they sat there in silence for a few moments, enjoying the simple intimacy between them.

However, the peace didn't last long. With a loud groan, Shane's stomach protested again, reminding them both that he still had quite a bit of digesting to do. He winced, his hand flying to his belly as it spasmed painfully. The farmer's expression shifted back to concern, his hand moving from Shane's cheek to his stomach to comfort him. "Do you need anything else?" He asked gently. Shane shook his head, biting his lip to stifle another burp. He didn't want to ruin the moment, but he couldn't deny the discomfort he was still in.

"Nah.." He said finally, "Just.. *urp* need to let my belly settle.. whoof…" He took a deep breath, trying to calm his stomach. The farmer nodded, his hand continuing to rub soothing circles on Shane's belly. They sat like that for a while longer, Shane burping and farting helplessly. The farmer secretly hoped that the storm outside would continue through the night and into tomorrow. Not for the fishing opportunities, but because maybe he did need a good rainy day off at home.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

[youngestsano]

𝓙𝓸𝓱𝓷 𝓓𝓸𝓡𝓨 𝔁 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

A/n : My friend wrote this since she wants to experience the feeling of the writing a scenario. But i hope you like it ! :))

Every morning of her day, there would be a new gift outside of her house waiting.

It would be so annoying that it would get in her way from time to time. She knew right away who it was from, as she found him very irritating when some days he tries to start conversations with her.

 

It’s not like she hates having conversations with people, but when it’s a person who tries to talk to her and gives her items to impress her just for fun, it could be infuriating.

Some days she tries to give little signs that she doesn’t find any interest in him or any of his gifts, but he’s so lovestruck that he doesn’t even see the signs this been happening for the past couple of months as she showed no interest in him. John finally figuring out that she has no interest in him as he decided to give one more chance, and if she declines this time he will have to eventually give up.

 

Until one morning, when she finally had enough of this sick behavior, As she was walking around the troll village until she saw a familiar guy, she immediately tried to speed away without getting noticed. But it was too late, as she heard her name being called out many times.

“Hey you! Y/N, Here! I got these flowers for you! Aren’t they beautiful? Just like you!!!” He said, smiling. His heart beat was rising, the girl was too cute for his liking. He had to have her to himself, one way or another.

"Oh, more flowers..?" Y/n notes, staring down at the bouquet John gave her. She seems annoyed by them, actually.

The girl picks a flower from the bouquet. "...what are these?"

She asks bluntly, taking the time to squish the flower in her hand. The petals are scattered everywhere, the flower is now destroyed. His smile becomes slightly crooked

“I-I uhm- I was only trying to do something nice for you! You know I have feelings for you- you don’t need to destroy it- I just wanted you to like it...” He said, almost holding back a tear.

The shortie tilts her head. "...so you like me?"

Y/n puts up one of her tiny eyebrows in intrigue.

"That's what you were doing? You were trying to impress me?" “Yes! I am! I can’t control myself when I see you... I want you to fall in love with me, so I must give you flowers and plushies! It’s my only shot at you...” He said, smiling through the pain in his eyes. "...why me?"

Y/n asks bluntly. She wasn't used to people actually liking her for her, so she was taken aback by his comment.

"He's actually serious?"

She thought, seeming to actually be interested in the way he's trying to win over her heart. His eyes light up, but he tried to hide it

“I-It’s hard to explain... When I see you, it feels as if the sky is clear of any clouds. Your smile, the way you act, your beauty... All of- All of It... You’re like a goddess to me...”

He said, getting off track. Y/n raises her other eyebrow.

"...you might be the first person to actually say something like that to me. Or is that just something you say to all the girls you want to get with?"

“No, No! Absolutely not! You are the first one- I would never say that to anyone! I’m being dead serious...” He put his heart in his hands, the girl’s eyes seemed so bright and captivating.

If his emotions are genuine, she might consider giving him a chance. She doesn't know if he's actually her 'type' or not, but it wouldn’t hurt to give him a chance and plus she felt bad since he was trying his hardest everyday well more like a month.

*”Why not?" She thought.*

"...alright. I'll give you a chance. If you can impress me enough, maybe I'll think about giving you a shot."

“Y-you will?!” He said, almost jumping out of his skin. He finally did it! He would be able to hold her close! His eyes gleamed like a child, he couldn’t wait for the next day he could see her! He also had a huge grin on his face.

He definitely put a lot of enthusiasm into his response. Y/n smiled upon seeing that.

"He's gonna be a lot easier to deal with than I originally thought." She thought with a smirk. She looked forward to him she then grabbed his hand. “yeah why not..” As she smiled brightly, He then shouted excitedly as he grabbed her letting out a big yelp from her mouth. Her arms wrapped around his neck “Cmon ! we’re going to our first date!”

“WAIT WHAT!?”

Request From : @cherryp0p224

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I don’t know why but I got this idea in my head of Cater’s sisters being really into Ace’s brother. Maybe because I got Cater and Ace mixed up all the time when I first saw the character designs for TW.

Ah, yes. Putting more Heartslabyul boys in familial crises with the fear that their own [relative] may start a relationship with a [relative] of a classmate (the last one was Mrs. Spade + "Silver's dad") :)) That's been my favorite thing to write lately, lol

I wrote Cater’s sisters with the concept of bubbly, sociable girls and gyaru fashion/subculture in mind. There's a lot of "like" and "totally" in their vocabular! Ace's brother is 7 years older than him, so in my head I'm placing the Diamond sisters around that ballpark too. (We don’t actually know what the age difference between the Diamond siblings are, nor do we know that much about the character of the sisters other than having girlish interests and being somewhat bossy with Cater.)

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

Head-turning was an understatement for the effect the Diamond sisters had on NRC’s general populace. The gemstone of their surname might have implied elegance in the right context—but they were more the gaudy kind of jewels, shining so brightly it was difficult to ignore them.

The Diamond sisters dressed loudly, talked loudly, and lived, laughed, and loved loudly. It earned them no shortage of strange looks and stares. Attention, but not the good kind.

The cards that Cater held so close to his chest threatened to slip out from between his fingers and scatter. Putting on an act was one thing—but when his sisters were present? A whole different act to balance.

People looked too closely. They wondered. All things he worked so tirelessly to avoid.

His house of cards threatened to topple.

“Is this really your dorm?” one sister gushed, disrupting Cater’s thoughts.

She gazed at the red roses that wreathed the lounge. Cards were also strung above to give the illusion of floating down. Suspended clocks ticking away the time, racking up the seconds.

“Heartslabyul’s, like, so aesthetically pleasing!” the other sister declared. “It’s like I just walked straight into a viral Magicam pic.”

“Yup, it’s my dorm alright!” Cater said quickly, careful to not let his smile falter. “Hey, if you like Heartslabyul, then we should check out the other six dorms too. You might find a place that vibes with you even more!”

“Really? But I wanna soak up the atmosphere of your dorm first!!” The first sister fell back into a quilted couch with a pout.

The second shook her head and tutted. “Let’s stop and smell the roses, okay, Cay-Cay?”

“Eeeeh? That’s easy for you two to say… I kinda get tired of smelling roses all day myself. Don't 'cha find it a little stifling? There are other places we could hang."

His sisters looked at him incredulously, neither of them willing to budge. He had feared this--their headstrongness had been the cause of many disputes as children.

"Maybe we could hit up the gardens then?" Cater offered, changing up his tactics. "It's so big, and there's so much to see there! Lots of 'cammable spots! We could spend all afternoon wandering it and getting lost~"

Hopefully out of sight for the entire day. It was more energy than he had hoped to expend, but it was a concession Cater was forced to make.

At this, the Diamond sisters leapt up excitedly.

"Omg, pics with floral backgrounds are like, SO hot right now. It's the season for it!"

“Is there a flower archway? Or a trellis we could pose in front of?”

“All that and more!“ Cater beamed and gestured to the open door. It led into a twisting hallway, checkered in black and white squares. When he looked to his sisters, he mustered all the eagerness he could. “Come on, let’s shake a leg and check it out!”

“What, you’re checking me out?”

“… Eh?” Cater whipped back to the doorway.

A man was now there, casually leaning against the frame. He wore a confident grin on his handsome face, poised with the laidback sort of swagger of a street-smart alleycat.

Riddle would have blown a fuse at how he dressed—his vest was open, his shirt wasn’t fully tucked in, nor full buttoned. His tie was loose too, and tossed over the shoulder… and, worst of all, he had the same impish glitter in his cherry eyes as Ace did. Double trouble, it seemed.

“I didn’t think my lil’ bro’s classmates would be so into me,” the Ace-like man joked.

Cater blinked as realization kicked in. “Eh, could it be that you’re Ace-chan’s…”

Right on cue, the first year in question popped up from around the corner. He crammed himself in the doorway with his brother with a groan.

“Would it kill you to wait up for me?!” Ace cried indignantly. “Just cuz you’re visiting your alter mater doesn’t mean you can ditch me to run off and do whatever!”

“Can’t help it if you still can’t outrun me,” his brother smirked. “Maybe you oughta work out some more.”

“Yeah, right! You just got a head-start is all. I bet I’m WAY more in shape than you are!”

Yup, that pretty much confirms it… They argue like siblings—I’d know it anywhere.

"I didn’t know your brother would be dropping in," Cater began. Rapt gasps cut off the rest of his thought.

“O. M. G.”

The blood in Cater’s veins ran cold. He didn’t need to look to know that something had completely entranced his sisters.

They were both suddenly on either side of Cater, sandwiching him between them. "Cay-kun, who’s this cutie?! Where have you been hiding him?"

For once in his life, he was at a total loss for words. Cater stared pleadingly at Ace, his puppy dog eyes (a technique he had learned from many fake Magicam apology vids) on full blast.

The first year wiggled his brows at Cater, then strolled forward. He slicked hair back with both hands (he had seen it once in a movie) and made what he probably thought was an attractive expression. “Ladies, ladies! I know I'm hot stuff! No need to clamor, there’s plenty of me to go around.”

The Diamond sisters flew right by him, snubbing the boy.

"... Huh?"

Both Cater and Ace gawked as the girls clustered around the older of the Trappola brothers. One sister took hold of his right arm, the other, the left, in a desperate bid for his attention. The Diamond sisters giggled coquettishly, batting their eyes at Ace's brother and toying with locks of their hair.

"Hey, cutie~ You free right now? Cuz we totes are!"

"Let's ditch our bros and get to know each other better! You're, like, def our type."

"Oh, you've got to be kiddin' me," Ace groaned, face-palming.

His brother smiled languidly and shrugged. "Sorry, my dude. I can't help being a chick magnet. Better luck next time."

"You don't sound very sorry about it!!"

"What else is a guy supposed to do in a situation like this? I'll make it up to you somehow, promise!"

"Aw, you care about your little bro's feelings? I love that," one of the Diamond sisters swooned, a hand to her forehead.

"Hot and considerate? He's the total package!" The other traced a light circle on his chest, a longing sigh drawn out from between her lips.

"Oh, BARF." Ace yanked on Cater's sleeve, demanding, "Uh, a little help here, Cater-senpai?! You CAN'T be okay with this, right?"

"Eeeh, you seriously want me to get in the way of true love, Ace-chan?" he pulled back, both hands up--distancing himself from the situation. "Sorry, but I'm not up for it."

"Oh, come on! True love, my ass! You're fine with your sisters peacing out on you to flirt and make goo-goo eyes?!"

"Honestly, whatever keeps them out of my hair~" Cater replied with a mischievous wink. "And besides, I don't want to deal with the potential fallout if they kick up a fuss about it. Haven't you ever heard of 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'?"

With a grin, the third year wrangled his junior by the shoulder and brought him close. "I should actually be thanking you, Ace-chan! You got me out of a real tight pinch there~"

“Yeah, and now you put me in a pinch!” he groused back, shoving Cater away. There was no shame to his senior’s smile, only smug satisfaction. “Traitor!”

“Geez, that’s mean of you to say. I didn’t ever promise you anything, did I? We just happened to cross paths and things worked out in my favor 🎵”

"Well thanks for NOTHING, then!"

[nostalgiclittlespace]

request: CG!Rosie and Little!Alastor

Plot: Rosie's trying to get Alastor to sleep but Al's being a cranky lil baby (Alastor's little age is newborn)

Hope you enjoy! Sorry if it’s scatter brained, I wrote this late at night 😅

SFW AGE REGRESSION FIC. DNI IF KINK, NSFW, PROSHIP, OR SIMILAR. DO NOT REPOST TO OTHER SITES

Title: A Fussy Fawn

Pairing: CG! Rosie x Little! Alastor

Word count: 940

Description: Despite Alastor’s insistence (and by that I mean his fussing) he definitely needs a nap. Good thing Auntie Rosie is always there for her fawn (fluff, hurt/comfort-ish)

A Fussy Fawn

Alastor was not tired.

He had made that clear on several occasions—first when Rosie suggested they have some quiet storytime, then when she tried cradling him with a bottle, and again when she offered him a pacifier.

Rather than the polite words or violent displays Alastor usually would have used to convey his thoughts, the upper rooms of Rosie’s Emporium were filled with fusses and shrieks at her attempts.  Though his powers had diminished to near nothing when he regressed, the radio sitting on the nightstand randomly switched channels and crackled with static and interrupted songs.  His shadows did not attack him or Rosie; instead, they too tried to soothe him by offering toys and gear at random.  Like Rosie, they had no success.

Yet, despite Alastor’s insistence, he definitely needed a nap.

The Radio Demon sat criss-cross on the red quilted blanket Auntie Rosie had made him many years before.  Cast aside plushies and toppled wooden blocks littered the ground around him, attesting to his displeasure as he whined once again.

“Young man,” Rosie said, soothing yet serious, “you know you will feel much better if you just take your paci.  Look, I even got your favorite one!”

Indeed she had.  The red plastic and its matching silk clip shone softly under the low nursery lights.  A small deer had been painted onto the center.  It even had his name on the handle!  

Nonetheless, Alastor showed no interest in the comfort item.

Rosie attempted to push the pacifier into his mouth, but to no luck.  As soon as the pacifier reached his lips, he popped it out of his mouth with a miserable screech.  He threw it away from himself, as if the silicone soother had somehow offended him.

“Alrighty then, no paci,” Rosie sighed, reaching across the play area for his plush alligator and offering that instead.  “How about this one?  Would you like to play with him?”

Alastor shook his head vehemently before flopping over onto his stomach in silent protest.  Well, actually it wasn’t all that silent.  Grumpy fussing emitted from his frame as he laid there like a slug.

After only a few seconds, his chest only took heavy breaths, his frame shaking slightly, and his ears pinned back against his skull.  As he cried miserably, Rosie sighed softly, feeling a loss for ideas.  Normally, Alastor would accept quiet time without question.  In fact, he preferred it to some of the noisier or messier activities they had tried.  So, what could have possibly interrupted their usual schedule?

Nonetheless, Rosie didn’t question his moodiness, nor scold him for his lack of manners.  Instead, she scooted a little closer and placed a hand on his back.  She found a soothing rhythm, tracing small circles like it was second nature.  To be fair, it most likely was.  

Despite being a cannibal, an Overlord, and having lived a life sinful enough to condemn her for eternal damnation, Rosie never lost her kindness nor her maternal instincts.  She took anyone under her wing, especially the children living in Cannibal Town.  Alastor was no exception.

The Radio Demon finally seemed ready to accept some form of comfort; Auntie Rosie’s comforting presence finally making some difference.  Unsteady as a newborn fawn, Alastor crawled a grand total of two steps before planting his face in Rosie’s skirt.  The dress’s soft fabric provided a gentle pillow, undoubtedly even more comforting than the blanket beneath them.

His fawn ears twitched as Rosie scratched them gently.  Gradually, they relaxed from where they had pinned backward and returned to their usual perked state.  His whines diminished too–instead replaced by soft sighs of contentment when Rosie pet his head just right.  Finally, he seemed ready to settle down.    

My, he certainly is one for dramatics, Rosie thought affectionately.  Even when this young, he must make a fuss about the little things.

  As Rosie’s fingers mused with his tufts of hair, Alastor’s body grew steadily limp.  As his blinks grew slower and his breaths deeper, his Caregiver carefully lifted him into her arms so he was no longer half-draped across the floor.  With motherly precision, she guided him into a strong yet gentle cradle.

With equal heed, she slowly stood up, then carried him over to the rocking chair.  Alastor stirred, blinking blearily as the movement disturbed his half-asleep state.  He whined sharply, threatening to undo all the work in soothing him.  However, Rosie eased away the baby’s complaint with practiced care.  Whispered hushes, a gentle rocking motion as she carried him, which continued as they lowered onto the wooden chair.  It glided back and forth, slow but sure.  

Rosie reached over to the radio sitting on the nightstand beside them, careful not to jostle Alastor’s delicate slip back into dreamland.  A couple dial turns later, the nursery’s smooth jazz resumed drifting through the air.  This time, Alastor’s powers did not disrupt the lulling notes.  He simply blinked slowly up at Rosie, who smiled back down at him.

“I think you’ve fought sleep for long enough, darling,” she chuckled.  “Rest now.  We’ll have plenty of play time later.”

Whatever had disturbed him, she could find out later.  For now, getting him to sleep was a much higher priority.

Thankfully, Alastor seemed to agree as his doe eyes drifted closed again.  He curled up, tucking his body closer to his caregiver’s.  Rosie, smiling fondly, reached for the spare blanket they kept on the rocking chair’s back, and draped it over him.   The peace enveloped the scene, Rosie’s worries melting away with Alastor’s miniature snores. Even if he is a bit cranky, Rosie thought, amused, he still is an adorable fawn.

[jakeotters]

Raymond Leon x Reader ask? Leon doesn't seem to have many friends, real friends in the movie. Maybe he once did but they're all gone now, timed out or killed because they couldn't get out of the ghetto like he did. Can you write a drabble where he makes an arrest and criminal/reader winds up being the only kid of one of his old friends and he feels protective because she's the last piece of a life he left behind? And of course he catches accidental romantic/naughty feelings!

i absolutely adore raymond, thank you for requesting him 💖

lonely (raymond leon x afab!reader)

warnings: age gap (obviously, raymond is ???? and reader is in her 20s-30s), mentions of death, slight nsfw/mentions of smut (just raymond’s thoughts, nothing actually happens)

author’s note: we as a society need more raymond leon fics 🙏

wrote this at 1 am so i apologize if it’s not the best

it wasn’t uncommon to see raymond taking late night walks by himself or sitting at a restaurant table alone, his apartment was too big; too quiet. outside of his work, raymond was lonely. he’d never admit it, but it was a loneliness that dragged on along with him, creating an empty, clouded space in his life.

once upon a time, raymond wasn’t so lonely. he had people he considered friends, people he cared for.

some would say that he was the last of his kind. that he was the lucky one, the one who got out of the ghetto and was able to make a life for himself, unlike those he had to leave behind. his memories of them were distant and scattered, replaced by the loneliness that had started to consume him after their deaths.

when he’d first met you, you’d been caught for time theft.

you hadn’t meant to steal time- in fact- you didn’t steal it. you’d run into a man in a bar and he offered it to you. it wasn’t until after he’d transferred 50 years to you that he began exclaiming that you’d stolen it from him. drunk or insane, you didn’t know. you figured both.

raymond looked at you as he took your arm, transferring the “stolen” time, and cuffed you. your face was familiar, your eyes holding a familiar light that he once saw in someone else. he shook the thought out of his head, leading you to his car.

when he asked for your name, you told him. he immediately stopped walking, freezing in place. he told you about how he’d known your father.

your eyes widened as he spoke. you’d never met anyone who knew your father- your father had died when you were young. your memories of him were just as distant and scattered as raymond’s.

“you did? but you’re a timekeeper-”

you looked at raymond for the first time. his hair was black, slicked back and his pale blue eyes staring into yours, his hands gripping your arm so tightly you swear you could see the white in his knuckles.

“i grew up in the ghetto. i got out.”

raymond was short with you. it was obvious to you he didn’t like talking about his past, or maybe he’d just never had anyone to talk about it with. you understood, though, that he’d lost people. you didn’t push, going silent once again.

he loosened his grip on your arm, carefully transferring the time back to you.

“when your father died, i’d lost the last of everything i knew. why waste such a pretty little thing like you?”

-

eventually, you’d started staying with him. he was gone most of the time anyways. when he returned home at night, he’d find you asleep on the couch. he’d gently pick you up and carry you to bed, laying you down.

raymond always thought about you. his thoughts plagued him, distracting him from his work and making it hard for him to focus.

when he laid down in his bed and closed his eyes at night, he could only see you. the way you’d look underneath him, your body exposed and just for him to feel, to kiss, to hold as he thrusted in and out of you.

on top of all of this, he had an unyielding feeling to protect you. to protect this last piece of life he had, this last reminder of his past.

he let you stay with him because he knew it was dangerous for you to walk around with that much time. you didn’t mind, you figured if anyone was skilled enough to protect you it was him.

but, you gave him something so much greater than all of the time in the world could give him. for the first time in as long as he could remember, he wasn’t lonely. his apartment was no longer too big and too quiet for him. and, for the first time in his long life, he felt something else: love.

masterlist

[materassassino]

O or V for Joe and/or Nicky

Took me a while to write this, it required research into something I know fundamentally nothing about, but it's cursory research, so if anyone sees any mistakes point them out. Or don't, exercise discretion.

There are many more things I could write about for this, but it was getting far too long.

Minific prompts!

---

O - the stars or space

“Have you seen this?”

Nicolò careens in, breathless, and almost slams a book on the table. His heart is pounding, the wonder of it all, he knows, is writ large on his face. Yusuf stares at him, bewildered for a moment, before he gets the book thrust in his face.

De revolutionibus orbium coelestium.

He blinks at it. “Astronomy?” he asks, tentatively.

“It changes everything,” Nicolò says, rifling through it. “Look, see here—” he taps an image of many concentric circles, “—look at the centre.”

Yusuf does as he is told, and whistles. “The Sun, hm?”

Nicolò nods, picking up the book again. “This is incredible. It makes so much sense.” He sits heavily in the chair, flicking through to the tables. “We are tethered to the Sun, all of us. It is a great dance, and we are but one of the dancers.”

Yusuf hums, and when Nicolò looks up at him, he has a besotted look on his face.

“When you think of the sciences, you become a poet,” he says, and Nicolò turns pink. He closes his book and sets it on the table, a hand upon it, but his eyes do not leave Yusuf’s.

“There are wonders both down here and up there, my love,” he says. “And we might live long enough to see them learnt.”

--

“Look, see there!”

Nicolò takes the telescope from Galileo’s hands with unhidden reverence, swallowing. With this, he will see further than most other people on Earth ever have, beyond the edges of their own sky into the very firmament they once thought so fixed. All those men who wrote those treatises he devoured five hundred years ago – Aratus of Soli, Aryabhata, Ptolemy, Albumasar, Al Bitruji, a hundred others – would have given their own weight in gold to see what he will see now. He trembles slightly as he raises it to his eye.

The night is balmy, thick with the heat of the Tuscan summer, and the sky is a brilliantly clear mass of studded stars. He has seen those a thousand times before, charted them, he knows the names of the constellations in five languages. The Moon is a crisp sliver, a cat’s claw, and beyond that… Jupiter.

Brighter than he’s ever seen it, and scattered around it, four dots. His breath hitches.

“Moons,” he says, and Galileo rubs his hands together.

“Exactly, my lad!”

Nicolò lowers the telescope, gazing up with his naked eyes. Jupiter shrinks, and its pinprick companions vanish into nothing, merging with the rest of the many, many stars above them. It is a strange contrast, he thinks, how much smaller the vastness looks when viewed through Galileo’s device, and how much smaller he himself feels when the great dome of the night sky is above them, clear from horizon to horizon.

“Wondrous,” he murmurs. Galileo tugs on his beard, clearly pleased with himself, but the compliment was not for him, and not even for his device.

No matter how close the sky might seem, it is still so very far away.

--

Andy had not been pleased when he’d asked.

“You want to interrupt our mission to watch some TV?!” she snaps. Nicky’s heart was thudding.

“Please, Andy,” he begs. “I have to see this. I have to.”

“We’re in the middle of the fucking jungle!” she hisses, gesturing around them. Nicky can see that, it’s where they’ve been for months and months now, border-hopping, skulking, getting themselves burnt and torn to shreds and blown to smithereens over and over and over, every life saved a hard-won blessing. But this…

“Please. Anywhere with a television, I don’t care.”

She turns away from him as if disgusted with him, and that makes his heart constrict. He hates to disappoint her like this.

“He never requests anything, Andy,” Joe says, his voice far more vicious than usual. This meatgrinder of a war has been taking its toll on him, and when Joe becomes bitter, it is a sign things are going very, very badly. “You can at least give him this!”

“I agree,” Booker says, and both Nicky and Joe look at him in surprise. “I want out of this shithole for a moment too, honestly.”

Andy runs a hand down her face. The bags beneath her eyes are deep, and her eyes have a dead-fish look to them. It’s a look that’s mirrored on all of them, and they have seen so much war already, centuries, millennia of it.

“Fine,” she mutters. “We might even get to Hanoi in time.”

Nicky is rarely effusive with anyone but Joe, but he throws his arms around her, holding her desperately tight.

“Thank you! Thank you!” He is grateful in every language he knows, and a miraculous sound occurs to that: she laughs. He can’t remember the last time she laughed. Thin, reedy, a vaporous, ephemeral thing, but it’s still a laugh.

They don’t make it to Hanoi, unfortunately – that was always a fool’s gambit anyway – but they stumble into Vinh Vien. It is mostly ruins, a sight that twists itself like a knife in Nicky’s gut, but it seems some mad luck is with them: they do find a television that is intact, and works, and a generator Andy siphons some of their precious petrol into. Some curious children wander over, bewildered by the sight of these foreigners fiddling with a television, and Booker gestures them over, offering them Russian sweets which they take with bright grins and giggles.

They crowd around it, the four of them on upturned crates and the children clustered in front, and are joined by some adults, desperate for a distraction. They amass quite the audience.

Nicky explains, in his Vietnamese scattered with quaint, ancient words he hasn’t quite gotten rid of yet, what is happening.

“The Moon?” an old man asks, dubious.

“The Moon,” Nicky replies, a lump in his throat.

He watches, transfixed, as the module touches down. The view is monotonous, a flat plain of grey rock to a black horizon, but he almost cannot breathe: this is as far as humanity has ever gone. He watches the man in the bulky suit descend the ladder and touch the surface, and it doesn’t matter that this man is American, just as it did not matter that Yuri Gagarin was Soviet. What do these petty Earthly feuds matter so far away? There is only wonder and mystery, and the breathless revelation of knowledge.

(Yes, he knows well this is a pissing contest between children, but does not care, in this moment.)

The children around them break into shrill cheers. He gasps softly. “One small step for a man” indeed.

Joe, beside him, threads their fingers together, and Nicky’s squeezes them because he cannot tear his gaze away, even to look at the love of his life. Booker whistles, leans over to Andy.

“Did you ever dream we’d do this, six thousand years ago?” he asks. Andy is quiet for a long moment.

“Everything was so much smaller then,” she says, her voice cracking. “And yet so much bigger.”

That is precisely how Nicky feels, though he couldn’t possibly find the words right now. They are sitting in the ruins of a city, years into a seemingly never-ending war which does nothing but tear people to pieces with no objective or remorse, and yet… and yet Nicky feels a kernel of hope within him.

“Do you think,” he murmurs, leaning his head closer to Joe’s, “that we will ever go beyond?”

“Who knows, my love… We have already gone further than we ever dreamt. How much further can space be?”

Nicky chuckles, and squeezes Joe’s hand once more.

[kazimirkharza]

What are your thoughts on how many anarcho-primitivist/luddite/anticiv spaces have been taken over by right-wing types? It seems less people are actually engaging in primitivist thought and more so thinking it's "based" and "trad."

I saw how you got downvoted for insulting whatalthist, and this is what led me to ask this question.

I'm assuming you're referring to online spaces. There's a strong effort by the right to co-opt primitivism. There are some forums that are frequented by right-wingers, though they're in the minority; most problematic spaces are the ones about Kaczynski and things directly related to him. There are also many social media accounts that express primitivistic ideas in combination with authoritarian and rightist politics (e.g. individuals who adore both Ted Kaczynski and Pentti Linkola). Most concerning to me are actually the offline examples that get press coverage.

I see this as being both due to deliberate efforts to co-opt primitivism, much in the manner Nazis co-opted socialism, and due to ignorance on the part of many right-wingers. It isn't too hard to misinterpret Kaczynski's remarks about leftism if you read him inattentively, and conclude that he must be some sort of right-winger. Ted's mistake was focusing on attacking the left too much and worrying too little about the right, but at the time he wrote his manifesto this choice made sense.

Ted was a fan of Earth First! and when he wrote Industrial Society and its Future the wounds of an ideological split within it were still fresh. EF! started out as a truly ecocentric movement with extremely narrow goals of protecting the wilderness from the ravages of industrialism and other harm caused by civilized humans. After gaining a lot of momentum, EF! attracted thousands of newcomers, many of whom leaned more to the side of leftist humanism than deep ecology, causing conflict — the newcomers were trying to transform the movement into one about ecology-related social justice issues, while the original Earth First!ers preferred to only focus on wilderness conservation. (For more on this check out Earth First!: Environmental Apocalypse by Martha F. Lee). The right-wing in America at the time was comprised mostly of people who were staunch prometheans, warmongers, etc., and Ted rightly assumed they weren't going to take over his movement. However as the political climate changed they became one.

The US and the rest of the "West" seems to be experiencing a rise in right-wing back-to-nature ideas, similar in many ways to the so-called "right-wing hippies" of the Weimar republic. I'm talking about doomsday preppers, christian nationalist communes, etc. Kaczynski did not anticipate this, and by the time news about who was adopting (some of) his ideas — not just anarchists and former Earth First!ers, but people including the Greek fascist Golden Dawn party, and Andreas Breivik — reached Kaczynski in his supermax prison it was a bit late. He penned a short note titled Ecofascism: An Aberrant Branch of Leftism in 2020, arguing against their ideas and saying he's their enemy. However, more people read and will read ISAIF in the future than this obscure note and the few other scattered critiques of the right that can be found throughout his work.

What we need to do is to aggressively shun these types until we successfully repel them. This applies to real life and online interactions. There will always be some who'll try to co-opt primitivism, but this big wave needs to be halted. There are also some who are genuinely willing to learn and adjust their beliefs, but they're few in between. It's necessary to distinguish between the two, keep the latter and reject the former.

[yuseirra]

More about 159~

hahaha XD aw, GOSH this comic is CRAZY, I think it would be fun if I read it as books and in volumes, it's because it's incomplete, and scattered eps that things feel so tense and awkward, I'm sure. It'd have more sense of flow as a volume.

I wrote a lot of things based on my stream of consciousness this morning (because well I draw hikaai and I DO care a lot about character portrayals and analysis) and I want to share it with you all! I reread it after the heat of the moment and I find it really funny,

If you want to feel assured about Ai and Hikaru (and perhaps ONK as a whole) or like the ship hikaai, I feel this is another post that could help you. Like I said in my ch 159 review, if this ain't it, I have no idea where this is going to head and I might as well take a break off from this piece for a bit and get some air. P3R episode Aigis is coming out on the 10th (great timing!) but I think I'm on the right track. I got so many things right since I picked this up thus far :D So for now, here we go again:

This is just my intuition and a piece mostly based on gut feelings.

Ha;; This morning, I saw someone extremely worried about Kamiki and Ai and couldn’t leave them feeling uneasy... I’m not in a position to calm others down, though!! I'm the one who needs to be calmed!! give me time to brace myself!!! I get tense because I care about where the story's gonna go too!!! I analyze characters and make fan works. I HAVE to look into the source material and make sense of things in order to do that o<-< I’m really stuck with this manga, aren’t I? What a ride... Okay I know the character looks a bit out of it. But listen, even if we criticize the character, we should wait for the next chapter before doing so. Come on, what would Kamiki even LIE about in the first place? Let’s sit down and think calmly. Let’s go over the facts.

Honestly, it would have been better for Kamiki if Ai wasn’t an idol. If Ai hadn’t been an idol, Ai wouldn't have had to die for deciding to keep her very kids with him!! Ai was murdered because she was an idol who had a boyfriend and kids(it's an absurd reason but to Ryosuke, that was his reason to go through with it). If she hadn’t loved Kamiki, she wouldn’t have died. This isn’t Kamiki’s fault, of course!! To add, if Ai weren’t an idol, they might not have broken up in the first place. Even if they had broken up, Ryosuke wouldn’t have tracked Ai down and killed her!! Things would have been so much better for this character if Ai hadn’t been an idol. His situation on the matter, It's totally the opposite of Nino and Ryosuke’s!

To Kamiki, Ai was certainly one-of-a-kind and irreplacable, yeah. But from Kamiki’s perspective, Ai was never a perfect, flawless figure that he found the need to idolize. She was someone who learned acting from him, who was clumsy and scattered, who needed his guidance in the beginning. She shared the same pain, opened up to him, understood him, accepted him, and loved him. Even though she gave him a deep wound and they parted ways, even when he thought she didn’t love him anymore, she remained precious to him to the point where he was willing to give his life for her. She was the person he wanted to marry. Ryosuke and Nino would kill her for not being perfect enough, but that’s not who Kamiki is. He’s actually the biggest victim of that incident only after AI herself. If Ai had survived, he might have been able to meet their children, reunite with Ai, clear up misunderstandings, and more importantly, Ai would still be alive. That alone would have made life more bearable for Kamiki than living in a world without her. I keep saying this but I'm sure he wouldn't have leaked the address to Ryosuke on purpose. I wrote many theories about this and I came to a conclusion that it must have been a mistake on his end, after getting drunk from sadness after Ai dumped him in the phone call. What kind of mastermind could he even be regarding this case? He was 19 at the time. It's total nonsense. There is no reason for him to try and attack Ai who tells him she has their children growing smart and healthy. He's lying about it to Aqua to make him feel better about avenging him because he believed that's what him and Ai's wanted.

What kind of grand conspiracy could a character like this possibly be behind? At least when it comes to Ai’s death, I don’t think he’s responsible. Even if he grew mad, I feel like that would have taken place after it happened. So what is it that this character wants? I’ve been curious about that too-

When I heard anime S2's opening, I immediately realized!! He wants to see Ai again! Would Aqua say something like,

Aqua has Ruby, Kana, and Akane. He’s not going to live just to get closer to Ai or live solely for her love. Maybe to fulfill Ai’s wishes, but that’s different.

“Without you, I cannot live anymore

I would sacrifice anything for you

I can’t get enough of your love

What should I use to fill in what’s missing?”

If Kamiki has any goal, it’s this: He's never been seen to have a desire for Ai to be the ultimate, perfect idol. He’s not twisted that way. If he’s twisted, it’s more like, “I’ll give anything for Ai.”

Think about it. If someone you love died, what would you want most? You’d want them to live again, right? You wouldn’t go around committing serial murders saying, “No one can surpass them!” You’d just want to see them again if there was even the smallest chance. That’s the most important thing. Nino and Ryosuke are twisted. They liked Ai as an idol, not as a person. But this person has two cute kids with Ai... even though they never got to see them properly. He says he has paternal love, and I believe that because there’s no reason for him to hate the kids. He was prepared to take responsibility, after all. Wouldn’t he be happy about having kids with Ai? Wouldn’t he find them adorable, especially since they look so much like him and the one he loves? Seeing how much he still cares for Ai, he’d probably love their kids too. He refers to them as "Yours(Ai's) and mine". He’d probably want to bring Ai back for the sake of the kids, if not for himself. He even believes Ai died because of him, so that would only add to his desperation and longing. When someone dies, they can’t come back, so that possibility doesn’t usually cross the mind-

However, It seems that the songs are saying there is some kind of hope for that becoming a reality even if the chances are very slim. To think Kamiki would have wanted to preserve Ai’s image as an idol and that's what's been driving him? No way. That’s exactly what killed Ai. He’d probably be sick of that... He just wants Ai to live. That’s his motive. He’s been hanging onto that.

As for the Hikaai ship, I had been holding off on judgment until Ai’s feelings came out. I felt like I won’t know until I hear from Ai herself how she feels about him so I waited out for quite long till the entirety of the movie arc, until it got its closure-

And it really occurs to me, people don’t seem to realize how much thought and conviction it takes for Ai to feel that strongly about a person.

Ai is scared, has a sensitive soul, overthinks things, is defensive, and gets wary. She’s afraid to love and get close to people because she doesn't want to get hurt.

But Ai couldn't give up Kamiki’s child because they were what she had with him, even while she was afraid it would be a burden to him!! Do you know how much certainty, affection, and love that takes? It doesn’t seem to resonate with people as much as it does for me, it's such a deep and strong feeling. That's what really got me. She was scared, but she still wanted them because they were theirs...and she protected their children with all her heart that point onward.

This kind of love is something that you might encounter just once in your lifetime, you might never get to meet someone like that at all.

So I thought, “Good for Ai. She found someone she loved that much.” Kamiki must have been a really precious person to Ai to make her feel that way.

In my opinion, for someone to make Ai feel like that, they would have to be the kind of person who would give out their every part of their organ, even their heart to her if that's necessary, and still think it’s not enough. And when you listen to the songs, the speaker does really seems to express that kind of emotion. That's why I thought 'Oh, this is definitely Ai's lover. This is Kamiki that's saying these things.'

You have to trust Ai’s judgment. Ai is serious about love, and she found someone to give it to. He's the one person she decided on. She wanted to live her life with him, worried about him until the end, named her children after jewels because they looked like the one she loved. Had her son who takes after his dad so much have the characters "love" and "longing" in his name. That’s how much she adored him.

What does that tell you? And when you look at the backstory, it seems Kamiki thought he loved Ai even more than she loved him.

Then that must mean he must have treated her really well. So, it’s not about whether Kamiki loved Ai or not anymore. That's totally just a given!! What’s important now is what he has done since Ai's death.

In chapter 155, he said he was "going to do what he could for Ai" and left. Then Aqua showed up near him in this chapter saying, “I need to save you.”

When you listen to the songs, the narrator keeps saying they don’t mind dying. This is a character who has already said they could die for Ai. So what will they do? I think they’re planning to die “for Ai.” But is offering something for Ai or dying for her really what Ai would want? No. Ai would want Kamiki to live and be happy, and they know that, but they’re lying to themselves. That’s the lie this character tells. It’s a self-sacrificing but self-satisfying kind of thing. That's why Aqua says the lies "are for his own sake". This also explains why Ai left a message asking to help Kamiki. This character is someone who could go to extremes "for Ai", but Ai didn’t want that, which is why Aqua is trying to stop it.

If this isn’t the case, then I won’t be able to make sense of this manga... Haha, the Persona 3 DLC will be out soon, so I’ll just go play that...

This feels right to me, though. If it’s not, I don’t know what else it could be;;

Maybe Kamiki's been possessed by an evil god? But even if that’s the case, the motive he has would probably still be about "saving Ai".

On another note, Kamiki was so gentle and kind in his tone when speaking to Aqua. He spoke really softly, didn’t he?

If he had been able to raise the kids with Ai, he would have been the type to pamper and spoil them... He'd have been a sweet dad. I feel like Ai really did choose a good guy to father her kids.

The way he speaks to Aqua feels quite similar to the last lines and atmosphere of the lyrics of Mephisto.. something about it will be brought up soon, I mean Aqua's wearing that same clothes.

To Kamiki, Aqua must be his and Ai’s cute son, right? But does he know Aqua’s soul is originally that of a 30-something-year-old doctor? If he’s possessed by an evil god, maybe he is aware of these things. But if he doesn’t, it might be a bit awkward. His son is almost the same age as him inside...

Aqua is Aqua, though? But that thought still made me laugh a little. I could imagine Kamiki suddenly speaking very formally towards Aqua upon figuring out he's actually the doc who aided Ai with delivering his children safely. Kamiki seems like the type to speak with a lot of courtesy... the way he speaks has been very polite. It depends on the character, but I think that is part of how he is originally.

[thinkofmehoney]

The city of my heart

Chapter one.

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Suguru Geto

Summary: In the bustling city, Satoru and Suguru's paths cross again after so many years, intertwining their lives in unexpected ways. As single parents navigating the complexities of raising kids and confronting personal demons, they find solace in each other's company. Unbeknownst to them, a long-buried flame rekindles, and their journey becomes a delicate dance between friendship, love, and the challenges that come with second chances.

Or

Where Satoru sees Suguru at his kids’ school after twelve years without seeing each other. Oh and Suguru has twin daughters, just to add up to Satoru’s shock.

(click for Ao3 version)

Warnings: None for now, but I’ll treat sensitive topics later on, probably after chapter 5 or so.

Contents: Non Sorcerer AU, single dad Satoru x Single dad Suguru, friends to strangers to lovers (kinda)

Notes: (I almost forgot to mention, Satoru comes from a wealthy family in this au) I’m blindly trusting my past self who wrote this and made all the calculations, but if there’s any mistakes in dates or characters ages and etcetcetc, please forgive me 😭. I’ll add more notes at the end, my brain is empty rn.

(3.1k words)

Satoru's house was a mess, It was like a earthquake just destroyed everything in sight, there was empty boxes of school supplies on the floor, clean clothes scattered on the sofa and chairs, a bag of hair ties that seemed to have exploded... in reality, it was something way less tragic than a natural disaster. Satoru and his kids were getting ready before school.

He was just as nervous as Megumi and Tsumiki for their first day of school, if not more. He changed clothes almost four times before deciding that a white button down and black pants will do.

In record time, he had the frozen waffles ready to eat on the table, along with hot chocolate for him and Megumi and a cup of tea for Tsumiki, because she thought that Satoru’s breakfasts were way too sweet.

Satoru was fixing the tie of a grumpy Megumi. "Leave it! I don't wanna wear this stupid tie anyways." After some fixing on his uniform, Satoru finally let him free to eat his waffles.

"But you look fancy, Meg!" He sat down with them and looked at the watch on his wrist, they still had 10 minutes to eat their breakfast. "It's only for the first days though, after that you can take it off, they won't care."

When Satoru was about to get up and get more chocolate syrup, he noticed Tsumiki, only ate about 1/4 of her plate. He softly stroked her hair. "What's wrong princess? is it too sweet? We still have time to make toast." She denied with her head.

"It's not that, the waffles are great." She smiled politely. "I'm just nervous… What if I don't make any friends?" Satoru’s heart squeezed, Tsumiki seemed genuinely worried looking down and fidgeting with her fingers.

"You will, baby, I can promise you that." While he spoke, he picked Tsumiki's knife and fork to cut the waffles in smaller pieces. "Everyone is gonna be nervous, it's the first day after all, so you are all gonna be on the same page. Maybe the first day you won't have a best friend or something like that right away, but by the end of the week i'm sure you'll have your group."

He smiled reassuringly at her, who now felt more confident. He picked one small waffle with the fork and put his other hand under it in case it fell, "Now, eat this waffle I made with love for you." She smiled and ate it happily.

"But you didn't make them, you just put them in the toaster and they're not even defrosted all the way," Megumi said with a grumpy expression on his face as usual, but Satoru knew that picking on him was his unique humor and also his way to show affection, even though the kid wouldn't admit it. "It had some ice inside from the freezer."

Satoru got up and walked towards Megumi and his empty and almost squeaky clean plate. With ice or not, Megumi liked the frozen waffles. "Damn relax, no one was going to take the waffles away from you Meg." He joked as he brought the plate and empty mug to the kitchen.

He left the dishes on the sink and looked at his watch again, his eyes widened when he noticed that the ten minute breakfast turned out to be fifteen. He sprinted to the main entrance, "Kids, go wash your teeth quickly, I'll start the car!"

𓈒 ݁ ₊

Satoru drove his car through the busy morning traffic, glancing in the rearview mirror at his two children sitting in the backseat, a mix of excitement and nervousness on their faces as they anticipated their first day at their new school.

Satoru grinned and began chatting enthusiastically, his words flowing to reassure them, even if they didn't respond much. "You two are going to do great! Just calm down, and remember, it's a fresh start with new friends and new adventures. You're both very smart children, this year will be great!"

Even though Megumi had slightly frown eyebrows, inside he felt at ease after Satoru’s words. And Tsumiki's face lit up with a smile. When they arrived, Satoru carried their backpacks until the entrance, but Megumi thought something was off when he noticed that Satoru walked with them inside the school.

"Why are you coming with us?" Megumi looked at Satoru with a raised eyebrow, and he was checking his phone, reading something.

"There's a welcoming act at the school’s auditorium for parents and students, the principal will give a speech and blah blah blah." after reading some texts, Satoru smiled at the screen. "But Nanami told me that there will be a table with snacks." Megumi snorted and Tsumiki looked at Satoru with a side eye. "With how expensive this school is, the least they can do is offer me a cup of tea." He said in between his teeth.

"Don't do anything embarrassing, please." He walked ahead of his sister and Satoru, already feeling embarrassed that his dad was walking with him inside the school like he was a little kid that could get lost.

"And don't flirt with Nanami, he's gonna be our teacher now." Tsumiki added seriously.

Satoru was flabbergasted at both of his children, but still a little bit entertained. "Wha- I'm not gonna embarrass you or flirt with anyone! You guys think too little of me!". They finally got to the school’s auditorium, the teachers were guiding the kids to their sits by grade, so Satoru would go sit behind where the parents were. "Okay go to your seats and listen to your teachers, I'll go grab a cup of tea." he ruffled their hair one last time to then go to the snack table.

When he got there he saw Nanami, just like they said on text messages. The speech and Welcome Act hadn't started yet so the majority of the kids were sitting while the parents grabbed a coffee and talked with each other.

"Nanami! How are you?" He greeted his friend with a brief hug and backslap, looking at him up and down when they separated. "Lookin' good." He said flirtatiously, enjoying the playful banter that often annoyed Nanami.

The blond man just rolled his eyes and sighed, "I'm good, thank you. How are you? it's Tsumiki's last year before high school isn't it?"

Satoru sighed with a proud smile, glancing in her direction for a moment. "It is, my little girl is all grown up now." He looked down at his cup of tea with a hint of nostalgia. "I hope her high school years will be the best years of her life." Nanami's gaze softened at his words.

"I'm sure she'll have a great time, she's the sweetest kid ever; you've done a great job." Satoru chuckled, moved by his friend’s words, and playfully hit his arm.

"C'mon Nanami, you're gonna make me cry and Megumi already told me not to embarrass him." Satory wiped a fake tear from his face and Nanami laughed tenderly at Megumi’s words.

"Megumi is the best, he's the only one that keeps you humble." They kept chatting about the kids and their jobs, discussing on which students were more difficult to deal with: the college students, because Satoru was a professor, or the little noisy kids that Nanami taught. But suddenly something, or rather, someone familiar caught Nanami's attention.

A few meters away from them, he recognized a tall man with black straight hair tied in a half bun, who also wore black ear gauges. He haven’t seen that man in ages, so he could be wrong, maybe it was a mistake, his eyes were probably deceiving him, but no, it really was...

"Isn't that Suguru Geto?" Nanami abruptly interrupted their conversation while squinting his eyes.

After hearing that name, Satoru's blood froze automatically on his veins, and Nanami could tell by his mortified expression.

Satoru hasn't heard his name coming from anyone in a really long time. At first thought he didn’t heard Nanami correctly, because there was just no way. Was his sugar addiction finally getting to him? Has he finally started hallucinating?

He decided to slowly turn around to see where was Nanami looking at, and he didn't knew what to expect, the most realistic thing that could happen is that when he turned around he'd see someone that looked like him, and nothing more.

But oh there he was.

And he wasn't alone, he was with two little girls about the same age as Megumi, and they wore the same uniform as Tsumiki. Satoru couldn't believe this, being realistic, he never imagined that he would be seeing him again, specially there and with two kids.

His one and only best friend, whom he considered him to be the person he has been the closest to, the person he trusted the most, and that still felt like someone important to him even though the last time they saw each other they were about seventeen years old.

Things didn’t stop there, he felt his heart dropping to the floor when those violet eyes caught a glance of his own, completely defenseless. They both stood there, looking at each other like a bucket of cold water just fell over their heads, this had to be a sick joke of some kind.

Satoru felt the need to get closer, to say something, anything. It felt like he was bewitched, but just when he was thinking about breaking the distance and take the first step, Tsumiki appeared in front of him with a hair tie on her hand.

"Dad, can you put my hair on a ponytail? the speech is about to start and they'll take pictures." Satoru seemed to be on a trance, so Tsumiki tugged on his shirt. "Dad! hurry up!"

Satoru looked at her and chuckled nervously, "Sorry love... there you go, now go to your seat." His daughter thanked him and walked back where she came from. But when he looked up he couldn't find him anymore.

Nanami could only imagine how this moment felt for Satoru. After all, he just saw his best friend after twelve years. He put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "Hey, are you alright?" His friend sighed distressed, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Can I go to your place this evening? I just... need to talk about this."

"Of course, you're welcome whenever you need it." Satoru smiled, he felt so glad to have a friend like Nanami.

"Okay but don't get too excited, we're just going to talk, that's all." Nanami rolled his eyes and slapped the back of Satoru's head.

"How can you still make your perverted jokes in a moment like this?" Satoru just laughed, and sighed hopeless.

"I don't know, I think i'm going insane."

𓈒 ݁ ₊

Satoru arrived at Nanami's apartment at 7:30 PM, they both had to work the day after so they decided to meet early, that way Satoru could be back home and sleeping at 10:00 PM. They had to admit that they felt old for calculating the time to get home and sleep, they weren’t the same boys from college.

Nanami got himself a whisky on the rocks and a glass of sweet wine for his friend as they sat down on the balcony. Satoru and Nanami met in high school, but became good friends after graduation, and after all those years they've known each other, he has never seen Satoru as stressed as he was right now, not even once.

"Nanami, what should I do?" His leg bounced up and down and his fingers ran through his white hair, then he rested his forehead on his hand. "Should I talk to him or should I just pretend like I didn't see him?"

"I don't think that's going to work, you'll see him pretty often, you know?" He took a sip from his cold glass, "His daughters are Megumi's classmates." Satoru’s eyes widened in surprise.

"Oh shit, I forgot that he has two daughters." Nanami wanted to laugh at Satoru’s comment and the expression on his face.

"So? You literally have two kids yourself."

"But what if he's married or something?" Nanami raised an eyebrow, and Satoru just chugged his wine like it was a shot, probably not wanting to taste the liquor since he wasn't used to drink.

"Would that... be a problem?" The blue eyed man just sighed, frustrated with his own confusing mix of feelings.

"No... yes. Ugh, I don't know, maybe?" his hands rubbed his face, trying to dissipate his exhaustion and stress. And now Nanami was truly confused, he wasn’t expecting such an ambiguous answer from him.

"Wait a second, are you telling me... that you feel something for Geto?" Nanami couldn't believe it, did Satoru really felt something for that man? Even after all those years had passed? Satoru’s face told him all he needed to know but didn't want to hear.

"I don't think I've ever stopped having some sorta feelings for him." It was something crazy, but Satoru seemed sincere about it. Still, Nanami couldn't wrap his head around it. “I really liked him back then, at the time I could even say that I loved him but, I was too young and realized too late.” He smiled with nostalgia at the bittersweet memories.

"But it's been twelve years!" Nanami was shocked, but Satoru seemed just so certain about it, even though it’s been a decade without even talking to him. The blond man suddenly felt like he was the only sane person in that apartment.

"Believe me, I'm well aware that it's been twelve years... I think about it more often than I should." Melancholy slowly filled his eyes. "We had a fight before he left, that's the last time we said something to each other." Nanami tilted his head slightly.

"So you guys broke up in bad terms?" Satoru looked at him confused at first, but then he understood, he could just chuckle nervously.

"Oh we weren't together, I never even got to tell him that I had a crush on him." He had to be joking, Nanami thought.

"What? You guys were just friends?" Satoru nodded with a sheepish smile, "But- I remember you two were like an old married couple. And what was the fight even about? Can't you just tell me the whole story?" Nanami simply couldn't understand them, but he didn't knew if asking was a good idea after seeing Gojo with a melancholic glaze on his eyes as he thought about his past.

"I remember when we were around sixteen or seventeen, I think that's when I noticed that Suguru started to act different... He seemed more tired and distant, he started to get thinner and his hair was tangled and undone instead of in a bun like he always had it." He swallowed the lump on his throat that wanted to break his voice, the memories of a young Suguru just slowly shutting down was something that made him want to cry.

Satoru continued. "I didn't know for certain what was happening to him, but I could tell that he wasn't in a good place, so I always tried to cheer him up and make him feel better, but I guess it wasn't enough." A treacherous tear rolled down his cheek, he wiped it quickly pretending it didn't happen. Nanami, witnessing this vulnerable side of him, was taken aback. "And when he left I felt lonelier than ever, it reminded me of when I was a kid... Suguru was the only person that truly understood me, unlike everyone else I've ever met. With him, everything seemed just so bright, so comforting. He saw beyond my last name and status, he appreciated me for who I actually was." Another shaky breath escaped him, revealing the depth of their connection.

Seeing him crying was something difficult, Satoru was someone strong, someone you could hardly ever see being sad or vulnerable, but he was always there for anyone that needed him. Nanami immediately offered him a tissue and tried to comfort him, whispering "It's okay."

"When I realized that his decision was already taken and that he was leaving the city... I told him that he was just, running away from his problems instead of facing them, and that he- he didn't care about our future or our plans and... I think what hurt him the most was when I said that he didn't cared about us, I can't get the look on his face off my mind." His hand ran through his hair, and he finally turned to look at Nanami, "I think that… Suguru was my first love, I've never had anything like what I had with him, and I never will again."

There was a silence, Satoru tried to steady his breaths while Nanami just processed everything that he said. He knew those two were close, but he didn't knew they were that important to each other, even though he thought that they were dating, he imagined that it was just a high school sweetheart.

"I think this is your chance to talk to him." After meditating it, he thought that it was the best option for him, but Satoru looked at him with wide and teary eyes, like he was asking for more advice. "If you two are in this situation right now, where your kids go to the same school and that you'll see each other again often... I think that you should try and at least keep things peaceful with your so called «first love»." Satoru looked down and laughed softly.

"Easier said than done..." His phone buzzed on his pocket, he checked it and it was a picture from Choso, his babysitter and also his student. It was a picture of Tsumiki sitting on the couch and doing a peace sign with her hand, next to her Megumi covered his face with a drawing he made of an animal that seemed like a magic wolf.

He dried his remaining tears with his sleeve and put his phone back in his pocket. "I better get going, Choso has to study for an exam."

"You better give that kid extra credit." Satoru chuckled. They walked to the main entrance and before his friend left, he stopped him to talk "Satoru, if you need to talk, or if you need advice or even if you need someone to take care of your kids, don't doubt asking, I'll always be here okay?" Satoru felt really moved by his words, but he couldn't resist to pick on Nanami.

"I will. Thank you, seriously." He smiled. "Oh, and don't call me Satoru, I get flashbacks from college." Nanami almost laughed when Satoru winked at him.

"If nine years ago I knew that you would still bother me 'til this day, I would've thought about it twice before sleeping with you."

Notes: I thought Nanago hooking up in college would be funny teehehe. Ahh I’ve been wanting to post this fic for so long, but now it’s finally here!! Feedback is greatly appreciated <3

[sirhyst]

Edgar Allan Poe (BSD) x gn!reader

TW/CW: suggestive language (nothing explicit), bottom!poe again sorry but 😔 I’m down bad for this man

Summary: Reader accidentally comes across some interesting poems Poe wrote about them.

Note: reader has more game than me 😔✊ I’m dog shit at writing poems so maybe later I’ll write what Poe might of sent you.

———————————————————————

You were sitting alone at your house when you heard scratching by your door. Most would have reached for the nearest weapon, but you knew all too well what was making those scratching noises.

“Karl,” you said reaching down to pet the little raccoon. Before your hand met his small head, you noticed he had loose papers in his mouth.

“Now what do you have there? Have you been stealing again?” Karl look at you begrudgingly, clearly annoyed that you would dare make such an accusation despite his track record. He dropped the papers at your feet before waltzing into your living room, towards your couch.

You immediately recognised the beautiful, yet slightly rushed, handwritten words.

Edgar, you thought to yourself, not realising the goofy smile that spread across your lips. As you carefully scanned the documents though, the smile was replaced by a look of shock as your face began to heat up.

A plethora of beautifully written poems sharing the many fantasies Poe had, many of which were very erotic, scattered across the pages in the form of a letter. Poe, in his usual poetic way, truly described what he saw and how that made him feel.

Your concentration was interrupted when Karl clung onto your ankle.

“Maybe I should take these back to Poe Karl, What do you think?” You asked, patting his head gently. Naturally, Karl let out an approving chirp.

You reached Poe’s house to find him already standing by the door.

“My darling, I-“ he paused, blush layering his face as soon as he saw the papers in your hand, immediately recognising them based on the smirk dancing across your face.

“I see you Karl ratted me out,” he said looking down, not daring to look you in the eyes. You had to admit, you didn’t expect such explicit words from your boyfriend, it was like night and day from his usual gothic horror stories.

Poe led you up to his office, Karl seemed to sense the change in the air and remained in the foyer.

As soon as Poe closed the door, you placed the unholy papers on the nearest bookshelf before pressing the tall man against the wooden door.

No matter how many times you caught Poe in this position, he always reacted as if it were the first time. A blushing, stuttering mess, only become more of a wreck as your hands made there way to his waist, deeply massaging it.

“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable,” he said, even after making note of his current predicament, he still worried he’d push you away.

“Of course not my little raven,” you said in a hushed voice. Your lips brushed against his, whilst pushing back his bangs to see his full face. You frequently did this merely to pull the nervous little whimpers from your partner that you’ve grown to love.

“Just a new side of you that’s all,” you took time to admire his features before letting out a content sigh before kissing him softly.

Naturally, the kiss ended long before Poe would have liked.

“Edgar~” you said in the manner you knew made his knees weak.

“You made me seem more attractive than I thought I was though,” you said, almost overcome with shyness. Poe furrowed his brows—he never wanted to hear his partner under-appreciate themselves.

“I simply wrote what I saw, and how I feel when I look at you,” he paused.

“I feel disappointed in myself when I think those things about you but, sometimes I can’t help it,”

“Especially since you’re so,” he didn’t know what to say next. When the writer runs out of words to describe the overwhelming feeling he felt around his lover, you know he is truly overcome by love.

“Hmm,” you said, moving your hand to fiddle with his jacket.

“it’s not gross, I love when you express yourself. Especially the cute noises you make,” you said with another smirk and a wink. Edgar pursed his lips in an attempt to hold back any noise threatening to spill out.

You took a step back, placing your hands back on his waist. Poe pouted from the sudden warmth dissipating, but briefly regained composure.

“I’m glad I didn’t push you away, I didn’t mean for you to find those,” he looked at his hands, “especially since they weren’t finished.”

As if the passed 5 minutes had never accrued, your face completely switched from a seductive smile to plain shock.

“There’s more?!” You said, a little louder than either of your would have liked. Poe stayed silent, not wanting to expose himself further, made his way back to his desk.

“Edgar! You can’t just drop that information and then walk away!” You said nervously, but still with a slight smile threatening to appear. That of course did not last long as the urge to tease your lover returned.

As he stood in front of his desk, you placed a hand on his shoulder turning him around, and leaning him against the wooden surface.

“Why don’t you tell me more about your little fantasies.”

[miasmal-sweetness]

Barefoot

Inspired by my family members who always told little me growing up to not let a boy ever get me barefoot and pregnant.

Also not very good because I wrote the vast majority of this while very hypoglycemic and depressed lmao

Summary: 4.2k. Cloud’s dreams are dead. Shinra didn’t pan out. The city wasn’t for him. So he’s back in Nibelheim, forever a country boy. But you’re here, too, and you’re just happy he filled his promise to come back safe. Cloud is satisfied with his future in this sleepy town as long as you’re in it, but what’s this about you wanting to leave for school?

Alternative summary: Your small town boyfriend kills your big city dreams before anyone else can.

Pairing: yandere!Cloud x reader

Warnings: Forced breeding/baby-trapping, impregnation, reader is AFAB and referred to as a mom, Cloud kills your dreams, dubcon, manipulation, talk of abortion, not proofread bc it's meeee

MDNI – NSFW – 18+ only – take care of yourself

Barefoot

The sun is setting. Some of the Chocobos in the town’s ranch are scattered about, already settled for a good sleep. From the water tower, they look like puffs of bright yellow pollen gathered in the grass, at least when they tuck their heads against their wings. Normally, you’re filling the silence between you and Cloud with your happy chatter about your favorites—whom you have named Peep and Meep—but your words are in short supply today.

Cloud glances down at your hand. It’s next to his. So close… He could just grab it. Why aren’t you holding his hand? Has he brushed you off too many times? As he ponders the possibilities of why you might be mad at him, he misses the sight of you repeatedly parting your lips and closing them again.

“Did I piss you off?” Cloud finally asks. He can’t think of anything specific as to why you’d be angry or sad. You’ve been happy lately, maybe a little lost in thought, but things have been going well. He’s back in Nibelheim. You two are officially together. His mother is thrilled and adores you, your father approves of him, and you’re happy he kept to his promise to come back to you. So what’s the problem?

“What?” You snap out of your thoughts and finally look at him with wide eyes. You look tired—not physically, but mentally. Something is eating away at you. “I—no, no, I’m not mad.” You laugh, more to comfort him than anything. “I was just—erm, thinking, that’s all.”

Cloud grunts, a crooked frown on his face. He stares in to your eyes for a moment longer, searching for any signs of a lie, and finally accepts it as the truth and looks back at the Chocobos. “What are you thinking about, then?” He should have figured. You thought a lot—frequently, you thought too much. You had yet to take his advice to knock it off.

“Um…” You aren’t looking at the Chocobos. You’re looking at your hands, and then your kicking feet, and then your hands again as you rub circles in to your palms with your thumbs until your skin is red and raw. “I’ve been thinking that I want to learn more. A-about healing. You know, if anyone gets hurt out here, there’s not much we can do.”

Cloud nods. He knows this isn’t why you’re rubbing your own skin off your hand. “That’s a good idea,” he says, ignoring the anxiety rising in his gut. “One of the traveling doctors should be coming by next month; maybe you can—”

“Actually, I wanted to go to the city and study there.”

That’s why you’re so anxious. Why you’re tense and your voice is tremulous. Why you two aren’t spending your time on the water tower talking about Chocobos, chatting about your days, or making out. Cloud hides his surprise well, but it still takes him a moment to be able to speak.

“The city, huh?”

“Mm-hm.” This time, he’s silent. You stop agitating your palm to place your hand over his, but it feels wrong. “There’s a practitioner program there. I’ve saved some money for the tuition—and it’s not that long! I’d be back soon.”

“And how long is ‘not that long’?” he questions, turning his head to look at you again.

Your nervous smile drops, and your gaze shifts to the side. “A year and a half,” you admit, squinting. Cloud bristles at your words, and you return to trying to comfort him. “I know! But I’ll come back here afterwards. And I can visit on breaks—or you can visit me. I’ll write all the time, too.”

This cannot be happening. He goes through all that bullshit with Shinra, has to swallow his pride and come back a failure to you, and now that you two are settled, you want to leave? No way.

“Cloud, please,” you murmur, squeezing his hand. “I can’t be a merc like you. You know this place is… Th-there aren’t a lot of opportunities for me here. I have to make my own.”

Cloud scowls. “You think it’ll be better in the city?” he grumbles. He wants to rip his hand away from you. He wants to brush you off and tell you it doesn’t matter, but he can’t. He can’t do that to you—certainly not now, when the threat of you leaving him is looming. “Trust me, you’re the last person that should go there. You wouldn’t last a day.”

“I have to try,” you insist. “I know it didn’t work for you, but—” You see the raw emotion that flares in his eyes. Wrong path to take. You change the course of your words, hoping it’s not too late. “Cloud, my only option in Nibelheim is to one day stay at home for a husband to look after our kids.”

“What’s wrong with that?” It hurts a little bit, how disturbed you sound when you say the word “husband.” When did your futures diverge like this? Was it his fault for leaving first? “We can get married. You don’t have to worry—”

“I want more than that, Cloud. I want my own life.”

You were right, and he knew it. You were like his mother when she was younger. He heard the stories of how adventurous and bold she had been, how she had defiantly claimed that she would never be a housewife—she would be a traveler. And yet, she had fallen for a man who did all the traveling instead, who left and died and now she was alone and all her dreams were gone.

And even though he sees longing in her eyes sometimes, all his mind focuses on now is one word from you: kids. Children bind people together forever, whether they like it or not. A child was the same thing that tethered his mother to this place—even his father, before his death. Maybe his mother still mourns her dead dreams, but she was otherwise happy, right? You could be, too.

Cloud finally reciprocates your grip on his hand and intertwines your fingers. He softens the scowl on his face for you. “When are you planning on leaving?” he asks, bringing your hand in to his lap.

“The end of spring,” you answer, scooting closer to him. “So we still have two months together.”

“Then we should make the most of it.”

In the dark, it’s pretty easy for him to get away with “accidentally” tearing the condom when he opens it without you even noticing—especially when you’re so worried about someone seeing you two while he fucks you behind a barn. You aren’t normally so agreeable to sex anywhere other than his house, but today is different. Maybe you feel guilty. Maybe you’re excited because you think you’ll actually get to follow your dreams. Doesn’t matter.

Leaving it all up to one ripped condom is too risky, so over the coming days, Cloud gets to researching. He’d never really thought of himself as father material, not until now. He’d learn to be a good one, though. Or not—he was pretty sure you weren’t keen on kids, but you’d probably learn to love it. Eventually. And if you really didn’t, then there were options to get rid of it in the city. After you were married to him, and only then and with his permission—there was no other way. The village aunties wouldn’t allow otherwise. Neither would your father.

So Cloud reads about pregnancy and fertility when he has downtime. He tracks your cycle as best he can by going through your things and counting your pads. He pokes holes in every condom the both of you own and gives you grapefruit juice every morning to screw up the birth control you take. And he fucks you every day, of course—he even keeps you on his cock for a while after, in the hopes that it might increase the chance of something taking.

The clock is ticking, though. There’s only two weeks left until you leave, and you’ve shown no signs of pregnancy. No backache, nausea, or fatigue. If anything, you’re more energetic—always excited about school. About leaving him. That’s what rings through his mind as guilt fills his chest when he slips off the condom mid-sex. You deserve this. Who cares if it’s wrong? It’s not like you’d ever find out, and when you see the mess he’s made, he’ll just say it was an accident. An honest mistake. You’ll believe him—you always do.

It’s a week until you leave now, and you have still not voiced any changes. No weight gain. Nothing. He’s running out of time, and he knows it.

“You can stay a little longer,” Cloud insists, holding you by your wrist. You’ve started packing your bags, taking what you can of your home—another slap in the face to him. If you really leave, you’ll even deprive him of the ability to go to your room and be among your possessions. “You said the program doesn’t start for another few weeks.”

You smile at him in a tender, almost pitying way. You slide his hand off of your wrist and return to folding a blouse. “I want time to get settled in,” you remind him. “You know I’ve never been to the city before.” You want to suggest that he come with you and show you around, but you know how it will go. He’ll shut you out the second you try.

Cloud snatches another shirt from your hands and tosses it across your room. “You don’t need that much time,” he argues as you sigh. “You can stay. At least… another two weeks.”

You narrow your eyes at him. Damn—you shouldn’t have looked in his eyes. You’re certain he must be aware of the effect his eyes have on you when he softens his gaze and gives you those big blue puppy eyes. He even juts out his lower lip, ever so slightly. You’ve never been able to say no to that face, and this time is no different.

“A week,” you offer, crossing your arms over your chest.

“A week and a half,” he counters. A smirk crosses his face for a quick second, but he replaces it with the pout you know, love, and also hate.

“Fine,” you groan, slouching your shoulders. You comb your fingers through your hair and sigh down at your half-packed bag. “Fine. I can stay an extra week and a half.”

He’s bought a little more time, but he knows you will try to leave eventually. Cloud wraps his arm around your waist and draws you closer; he’s thought of backup plans, in case you never do get pregnant. He could just… take you. You’d be pissed, but it’s not like you could do anything to stop him. Still, he’d rather not go that far unless absolutely necessary. If there’s any chance he can just get you to settle down on your own, he’ll take it.

You lean in to him, and he decides to seize this opportunity, too. His fingers creep down to the hem of your skirt; you try to hold it in place, but he just lifts it up anyway in the back.

“Wearing those for me?” he teases, snapping the waistband of your pink panties.

“You’ve been insatiable lately,” you grumble, swatting his hands away. “You can’t give me a break?”

“Nope.”

And he means it. Cloud’s hands are already on you, his lips against your jaw as he slowly guides you to your bed. It feels nice, but you still pull away and rest your hands on his chest.

“Cloud,” you whine, “Not here. What if my dad—”

“The door’s locked,” he says with a shrug. “Don’t worry so much.”

“What if he comes home and—”

“He won’t. But if he does, I’ll just tell him I was taking good care of you.”

He looks annoyingly proud of himself. You open your mouth to sass him back, but he’s already kissing you again. You’ve known Cloud for years—you started fooling around when you were still a little younger and a lot dumber. Neither of you were skilled at first, but you know each other’s bodies well, and he knows every spot that makes your toes curl. You resign yourself to your fate as he pushes you on to your bed.

This is the you he’s used to. You put up a fight sometimes—you have to look decent, keep your reputation as someone respectable and capable—but you always give in to him. Why does it have to be different when it comes to the city? What’s so special about it? His misery comes out in the form of a harsher bite to your throat than usual.

“Cloud!” you scold, “T-try to be careful. You know how annoying it is to cover up hickeys.”

He doesn’t even think about listening to you. “Then don’t cover them,” he mutters, before lowering his head again to suck at the same spot.

“Asshole.”

“Mhm.”

Even as you grumble and complain at him, he can still feel how wet you are when he shoves his hand down your panties without warning. Some of the fire in your eyes dies out as he toys with you, replaced with something soft and wanting. You scowl and voice another complaint when he pulls his hand away to undo his belt and strip out of his shirt. He doesn’t bother to do the same for you; he decides lifting up your shirt and tossing your panties on the floor is good enough.

Cloud grips you by your thighs as he looks you over. Fucking you on your childhood bed under your father’s roof probably won’t earn him any points with your family, but they don’t need to know—and if they do find out, they’ll have to put up with him once you’re knocked up anyway. Cloud feels you shudder when he just barely penetrates you; as much as you’ve griped at him today, you’re still excited. Unusually excited, even for you.

“Take your time,” you quip, resting an arm above your head. “Not like anyone else could walk in here.”

“Brat.”

As punishment for your sass, Cloud thrusts in to you without warning or hesitation. You cry out and grip your sheets, but it puts it an end to your mouthiness at least. He doesn’t let up, though; he’s now intent on pounding you into nothing on your bed as he forces your knees to your ears.

“C-Cloud…” You want to tell him to stop, but you don’t. It feels good, even if the bed is creaking loudly and you feel like a pretzel and you think did he put on a condom? He’s hitting the perfect spot and your moans are getting louder, your fears of being heard slowly dissipating from your mind. Fuck it—if he’s this set on railing you like this, you may as well fully enjoy it. “Harder, please!”

You feel his nails curl in to your thighs. He laughs at your demand, but acquiesces. Normally, Cloud focuses on your face, the expressions of pleasure on it, and your breasts as they bounce. Right now, though, his gaze continues to be drawn to your belly. He releases one of your thighs and rests his hand over your lower belly, pressing down like he’s trying to feel his own cock inside of you.

He can’t help but think of you—pregnant, waiting at home for him. You’d look cute, he’s certain. Adorable, even. You can’t leave. You can’t do anything. No one in town is going to let you work while pregnant, and every village auntie and uncle will have their eyes on you. Watching out for you. Watching you. Knowing that he’s the reason you’re tethered here, that he’s the one who snapped you back to reality and kept you here, that he’s the one you belong to. That’s what pregnancy really is, isn’t it? Ownership—using your body as a tool, forever changing it.

And then he realizes that your breasts look a little larger today. Your belly feels different—a little firmer. You normally have a smattering of acne around this time, too, somewhere on your body. Your face or your chest or your back, but there’s nothing. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but it spurs him on nonetheless. You feel like you’re going to break in two with how rough he’s being, although moans spill from your lips anyway as your shame leaves you and you play with your clit.

Cloud puts his teeth to your neck as he feels pleasure run through your body. You contract around him, your chest and core tightening while your throat releases tiny, pathetic squeaks. He’s turned you into a trembling mess on your bed, probably permanently stained the same sheets you’ve had since you were a kid. The ones with unicorns and stars on them that you’ve always loved. He knows it’s awful of him to enjoy the sight, and awful of him to enjoy the thought of breeding you, but the pleasure from it outweighs any shame. The moment you mewl his name, he cums. He thrusts as deep as he can and uses his weight to keep you in place; he’s not going to let you waste a single drop.

“Cloud,” you eke out. You feel… warm. Very, very warm. You know this feeling—it happened recently when he said a condom broke. And you don’t remember him putting one on this time. “Cloud, Cloud!”

“What?” he snaps, resting his head against the crook of your neck.

“You had a condom on, right?” Your heart is racing again, but more from the acid that’s crawling up your throat than the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you. “Right?”

Cloud thrums and shifts; he pulls out a little, only to sink deeper inside of you again. You can feel his cum oozing out of you, dripping on to your precious pink sheets below. “Didn’t have one on me,” he mutters. “You’re on birth control, anyway. Doesn’t make a difference.” He reaches his hand up to squeeze your cheeks. “Don’t worry so much.”

You scowl up at your ceiling. You hate that it feels good; you chalk it up to some sort of primal instinct that tries to encourage reproduction. “Help me clean up, then,” you order, starting to push up on his chest. “And let’s pray my birth control is working.”

“No need,” he says, finally pulling away from you. “You know I’ll always take care of you. So quit worrying.”

“Easy for you to say. Come on, hurry up before anyone comes back.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Cloud is fortunate that you’re not very good at holding grudges, even though you try; you complain a bit when he pulls you on to his lap the next day, but ultimately give in. And the day after that. And the day after that. And on the day after that, it’s you that starts it, even inviting him to your room. While you recover on your floor, still annoyed about your sheets, he pretends to clean himself up in your bathroom.

You haven’t used any pads in a while. Your appetite is different lately. You’re hornier, for sure. And your breasts are definitely bigger; he grabs them enough that he’d notice even the slightest change. Your skin is still clear, too; he wonders if this is what people mean by the glow that people get when they’re pregnant. You must be pregnant. You have to be; there’s no other reason this would all be happening. Not like it’ll hurt to keep trying, just to be sure, up to the very last moment.

It’s the night before you leave, and you’ve invited him up to the water tower. You’re hiding behind it, staring down at the earth below like it’s going to swallow you up. You wish it would, especially when he wraps his arms around you from behind and places a kiss on your neck.

“Cloud,” you breathe, frozen in place. You don’t reciprocate his touch, but you at least don’t pull away either. One of his hands comes to rest on your belly, and it makes you feel like throwing up.

“Thought you’d want to go to bed early,” he says, rubbing a small circle over your stomach. “Tomorrow’s the big day, huh?” The bitterness in his voice is gone now. He knows what this is about.

“I… yeah…” You clear your throat. You have to just spit it out. You thought about dealing with it on your own—it’s not like there aren’t those kinds of options in the city. But you can’t. All your savings are gone, poured into your hopes and dreams in the city; your family wouldn’t lend you the money without a good enough explanation, and it just brought unwanted questions. Cloud was your last hope. “Cloud, I-I have something to tell you.”

You turn to face him, but you aren’t able to look him in the eye. Not now. Cloud looks you over as you struggle to piece together your next words. Loose dress. Messy hair. Tired eyes. Your lips are dry and chapped. If you weren’t about to tell him such wonderful news, he’d just bend you over here and now; it’s hard for him to resist you when you look so helpless.

“I’m pregnant,” you finally spit out. You sneak a glance at his face; his eyes are wide, but his lips have twitched into a smile. “I-I took a test. I took a lot of tests… I, um—you don’t have to—”

Cloud wraps his arms around you again. It’s comforting and scary at the same time. “You look terrified,” he says, stroking your frizzy hair. “Don’t be. I told you I’d take care of you.”

“Then… you’ll help me—”

“You’ll make a great mom, anyway,” he interjects, completely ignoring the question you wanted to ask. He knows exactly what it is, and he’ll tell you “no” if he really has to, but it’s easier to avoid that subject for now. He doesn’t have to worry, anyway. Who else will you turn to? The moment he announces it, you’ll have the whole town chaining you here. And the village aunties certainly won’t let you try anything. Your father definitely won’t let it go, and he’d force a marriage whether you’d like it or not. “We can get married. Probably soon before anyone starts talking.”

Fuck. Fuck. This was not how he was supposed to respond. You knew Cloud; you knew he was not fond of kids. If anyone was to grumble a bit and tell you to take some cash, head to a clinic, you thought it would be him. So what happened? Why was this man, who had never expressed any desire to be a family man or tied down in any way, suddenly talking about marriage, a child, and your family’s approval? Why did he look so happy, so smug?

“I still want to go to the city,” you manage to say, your voice as tremulous as your lower lip. “I want to get an education.”

Cloud laughs—a short, mocking laugh. “How are you gonna manage that now?” he teases. “You can’t do this alone. Maybe—maybe after. When the kid’s older.” It was a lie, but by then, you’d forget about it. You wouldn’t care about it anymore. You’d be broken in, like every other woman here. Except Tifa, maybe, and she was fortunately leaving very soon for her boyfriend in the city.

“Cloud,” you plead, finally looking into his eyes. He looks so fucking happy, and as angry as it makes you, you also know you can’t resist those puppy dog eyes.

“Be realistic,” he insists. “Your dad would lose his shit if you tried. It’s going to be okay; I’ll go over tomorrow and get permission, we’ll get married, and then we can tell everyone.” He would absolutely be letting it slip to a few of the biggest gossips in town, but you didn’t need to know that. As tears well in your eyes, he cups your face and lifts your hanging head again. “Relax. You don’t need to worry about anything now. I’ll always take care of you. You can just stay home with the kid.”

He’s right. Fuck. He’s right. You can’t get an abortion. You can’t run away. This town will grab you and drag you down—it already is. No one will let you leave with a child holding you here. In just a few minutes, you have been forced to watch all your hopes and dreams be swallowed up by the dirt of this town.

And he knows it. He’ll let you cry it out later. If you’ve calmed down, maybe he’ll let you sneak off and get an abortion—he’ll make up some lie to all the townsfolk. For now, at least, there’s no hope of you leaving. Even if you never truly accept that, he’ll just knock you up as many times as it takes for you to understand. He’ll keep you barefoot and pregnant, broken and tamed like so many other women here. You’re better off this way.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs as you cry your tears against his chest. “I’m here. You’re with me. That’s all that matters.”

Right. You had Cloud by your side through this. He’d do anything for you—and anything to you, if it meant you’d stay.

[starriddenmess]

cyber 70s~

a little suggestive writing of a human x robot bartender pairing. Its a little cheesy I think haha. (I could continue it, if people want more. I apologize if there is any mistakes. I did write this in my point of view first and changed the name to y/n and the pronouns to they/them. I also wrote this at like 2-4 am 😭 I hope you enjoy nonetheless:) )

Y/n leaned their arms against the bar table resting their head in their hands, bathed in the neon glow that flickered from the holographic advertisements outside. They sipped on their electric blue cocktail. Vilo, the bartender, a towering figure of gleaming metal, towered over y/n. His fingers traced the intricate designs of y/n's tattoos, sending tingles down their spine. "I hope nothing bad happened to you, y/n" Vilo remarked and joked, his synthesized voice carrying a hint of concern. "I bet you know a lot of humans come into bars late at night to trauma dump. I have sooo many stories". y/n chuckled, their laughter mingling with the distant hum of hovercars outside. "No trauma tonight, Vilo," they replied with a small smile. Their eyes, locked onto Vilos luminescent purple optics. "I just wanted to see someone special." The bar was nearly empty, save for a few solitary souls scattered about, enjoying their drinks in solitude. The jukebox in the corner played classic 70s tunes, adding a nostalgic touch to the atmosphere. Vilo's fingers continued their exploration of y/n tattoos, tracing each line with precision. "Someone special, huh?" he mused, his metallic gaze fixed on her. "I've been waiting for you to come back, y/n." He leaned in closer, his metallic frame reflecting the neon lights. "I've been thinking about you. Y/n heart raced as they met Vilos gaze, they smiled again "I've been thinking about you too...". Y/n leaned closer to Vilo, their lips almost brushing against his metallic frame. "You know, Vilo," they whispered in a sultry tone, "you could have my number anytime you want and we can see eachother more."

Vilo illuminated optics flickered as he leaned back. "Y/n, my dear," he began, "I appreciate the offer, but there's something about these face-to-face conversations that technology can't replicate." which is really amusing for y/n to hear, as Vilo always had a interest in the old times. He gestured to the holographic screens that occasionally flashed images of distant news updates and swirling graphics. "The world may be overrun with machines and gadgets," Zeta continued, "but I'm a fan of the old ways, the human & robot connection, face to face. Besides, seeing you walk in here every week is a highlight of my week and more...". y/n couldn't help but blush, they reached out and playfully rubbed vilos shoulder. "You old romantic~," they teased. "I guess I can't argue with that. Plus, I enjoy our little chats too, you make my week too, I always love seeing you."

As their conversation flowed like a river of secrets and shared moments, Vilo's hand slipped beneath the bar's surface, retrieving a small, intricately crafted box. He placed it gently on the counter before y/n, his led lights shined yellow. "Go ahead, y/n," he urged, his voice filled with anticipation. "Open it." Y/n curiosity piqued, and with delicate fingers, they lifted the lid of the box. Inside, nestled on a bed of velvet, was a delicate necklace. Y/n laughs remembering the time he had lost part of his finger and now it's attached to this chain thats wrapped with wires. It was a really cool gift that will be really really sentimental to y/n. Vilo's laughter reverberated in the intimate space of the bar as y/n gazed at the necklace in awe. "It's a part of me... literally," Vilo said, his optics gleaming with a mixture of sentiment. "Back when I had to replace some components and to fix my hand, I thought about keeping a piece as a reminder of the past. And then, I realized it would be perfect for you. You always wear handmade jewelry so this is perfect for you". y/n heart swelled with gratitude as they looked up at Vilo. Their voice trembled with sincerity. "Thank you," they whispered "That's incredibly sweet of you. I really really love it." With his led lights turning pink, Vilo stepped out from behind the bar and circled around to y/n side. His fingers were cool to the touch as he carefully fastened the necklace around their neck. Y/n shivered as his metal fingertips brushed the back of their neck, a sensation both strange and electrifying. The neck lace hung perfect around their neck. "It suits you," he remarked, his synthetic voice a soft murmur, "just as I knew it would. You have a unique charm about you." With a skillful touch, his fingertips traced the contour of their collarbones, a subtle and intimate gesture that sent a shiver down y/n spine. They blushed at the unexpected but tantalizing sensation. Vilo discreetly withdrew his hand and returned to his place behind the bar to clean dirty glasses. They weren't a couple in the traditional sense, yet they had been conversing for over 6 months through chance encounters at the bar and accidental meetings on the streets of the city. It was as if fate had brought them together time and time again. Y/n realized that Vilo's gift was more than just a necklace; it was his way of expressing his desire for them.

"Vilo," y/n began, their voice soft and earnest, "I'm sorry I didn't give you anything. You've been so kind to me, and I feel like I should have brought something to show my appreciation." Even though it was a silly to think that. Vilo shook his head, his metallic frame gleaming in the ambient light. "No need to apologize, y/n," he reassured them, his synthesized voice comforting. "You being here, your presence, that's the greatest gift I could ask for. You're the gift I look forward to every week." his lights flashing pink again. Y/n heart swelled with emotion as the words sank in. The love song playing in the background seemed like an echo of their unspoken feelings, as if the universe itself was serenading them. Bobby Caldwell's voice filled the air, singing, "What you won't do, do for love. You've tried everything but you won't give up".

Vilo, ever attentive, poured a glass of water for y/n and placed it gently in front of them. "Here," he said with a warm smile. "Drink this while you enjoy your cocktail. I'll be right back." With that, he turned to attend to the human who had called him over, his metallic footsteps fading into the background. Y/n watched him go, their thoughts racing with the romantic moments they had shared tonight. It was an unexpected connection, but one that had grown stronger with each passing encounter, they felt really comfortable with Vilo. Resting their head in their hand, y/n couldn't help but replay the evening's events in their mind. They pulled out their phone to check the time and saw that it was already 1 am. The bar was set to close at 2 am, and the realization that their time together was running out tugged at their heart. They glanced around the bar, observing the other patrons lost in their own worlds, their conversations and laughter creating a cacophony of sounds that contrasted with the intimate moment she had just shared with Vilo. As they took a sip of their cocktail, their thoughts swirled with the possibilities of what the future held for them and Vilo. As y/n continued to sip their cocktail, they absentmindedly scrolled through Instagram on their phone.

Vilo returned to their side, his eyes fixed on their phone. With a playful grin, he reached over and turned off the device. "I don't allow phones when I'm around," he teased, his synthetic voice laced with humor. "You know that, y/n." His head tilting at them. Y/n chuckled, shaking their head as they set their phone aside. "You're such a traditionalist," they remarked, their eyes twinkling with amusement. "But ill comply with you~." Vilo nodded and leaned in caressing their forearm. "I told all the customers that the bar will be closing in an hour," he explained, his fingers tracing patterns on y/n arm. "Had to fix an arcade machine that was acting up. But don't worry, we still have some time." Y/n smile widened at his response. They appreciated his efforts to ensure they could continue their conversation. It was clear that Vilo cherished these moments as much as they did. With a thoughtful expression, y/n turned the conversation to a more lighthearted note. "Hey, Vilo," she began, "what's your favorite 70s love song?" Vilo paused for a moment, his digital mind sifting through memories of music from that era. Finally, he replied, "I think 'You're My First, My Last, My Everything' by Barry White. It has a timeless quality to it, just like our moments here." He says his while his fingers traced to their hand and played with y/n fingers softly. Their eyes locked, and in the dimly lit bar, amidst the echoes of 70s love songs. Y/n playful spirit shone through as they began to softly sing the lyrics of "You're My First, My Last, My Everything" by Barry White. Their voice, though not a professional singer's, carried a sense of joy and fun that filled their vicinity with an infectious energy. Vilo couldn't help but hide his head in his hand, his robotic shoulders shaking with light laughter. When they finished, Vilo couldn't resist asking about their favorite 70s love song. He tilted his head, his digital eyes fixed on y/n. "And what's yours?" he inquired, genuine curiosity in his voice. Y/n expression turned thoughtful for a moment. "Well," they began, "I don't know many 70s love songs, but there's one I like – 'Catch the Rainbow' by Rainbow." Vilo raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Interesting choice," he remarked. "But doesn't that song end with the two people not ending up together?" Y/n chuckled, their smile tinged with a hint of sadness. "Yes, it does," they admitted. "But I guess I like it because, in a way, it kinda relates to my past relationships. They all ended up bad, but I can't help but appreciate the beauty in those moments, even if they were fleeting." Y/n hoping Vilo and them stay together as y/n reaches out touching Vilos wrist. Vilo asked about their past relationships and Y/n sighed softly and looked at Vilo. "It's a sad story," they admitted, "and I'd rather not talk about it here." Vilo nodded understandingly, his fingers moving to theirs that rested on his wrist, taking them in his hand. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely, his synthesized voice filled with empathy.

Vilo had an idea. He leaned in closer to y/n, his metal frame close enough for them to feel his buzzing frame. "Y/n," he began softly, "after the bar closes, would you mind if I came over? I know it'll be late, but I'd like to talk to you in a space where it's just the two of us." Y/n eyes met his, and a warm smile tugged at the corners of their lips. "You can, Vilo," they replied, their voice filled with gratitude. "I'd like that." As the bar's closing hour drew near, y/n and Vilo looked forward to the quiet moments they would share. Vilo couldn't help but notice that y/n hadn't touched the glass of water he had given them earlier. He tilted his head slightly, his synthetic voice carrying a teasing tone. "Y/n," he said playfully, "you're being a bit bad, aren't you? I gave you that water for a reason." Y/n rolled their eyes, their cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. They picked up the glass of water and took a sip, meeting Vilo's gaze as they did so. Vilo praised her with a warm smile as he held their hand, entwined on the bar's surface. "thats my good human~," he murmured, his head tilting playfully and his led lights flashing pink. Y/n almost choked on their drink hearing Vilo say that, their cheeks burn a hotter red. Vilo noticed the change in y/n demeanor as they looked to the side, their gaze distant. He couldn't help but lean in closer and tease them asking them "y/n, is everything okay?" They tried to find their words, their voice slightly shaky. "I... I'm okay," they replied, a soft smile tugging at the corners of their lips. Vilo leaned closer to y/n ear, his voice lowering "are you sure?" teasing y/n more. Y/n met his sensors with a playful gleam in her eyes. They didn't back down from his teasing. "I know what you're doing," they whispered back. Vilo's hand, still entwined with theirs, rubbing his thumb on theirs. He leaned even closer, against y/n ear. "But you enjoy it," he teased, his voice a sensuous purr, "don't you, y/n?" Y/n couldn't help but look away but Vilo takes his free hand and touched their cheek and softly pushes it to have y/n look at them again. "Don't you?" He says.