#they did all they did so the Juniors wouldn't have to go through anything like that ever

[amynchan]

I have a mental loop of the Juniors singing The World's Smallest Violin and their guardians hiding in the bg with Conflicted Feelings about it. X'D

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

At some point, Clark's journalistic integrity means he's going to have to pull himself off all pieces relating to Bruce Wayne, even the fluffy ones. Yes, Chief, he knows it's just meant to be a puff piece, but Bruce came to his wedding, of course there will be accusations of bias!

But you can't just send anyone to interview Bruce Wayne, Clark wouldn't do that to his friend Bruce or to the people he works with. He thinks he's doing them both a favor when he suggests that Perry send Jimmy instead. The kid could use the practice with a higher profile piece like this that's still pretty low risk, Bruce won't eviscerate him or anything.

Except Jimmy is a junior reporter with Something to Prove and he firmly believes that all billionaires are bastards, even ones that befriend Lois and CK, and he's a junior reporter from Lex Luthor's hometown. So yeah, maybe he does a lot more prepwork than anyone expected him to do. Like a lot a lot. And maybe he didn't find anything incriminating but he did find things that didn't wholly make sense. And maybe it still bothers him that his two favorite coworkers, the uncorruptible Kent and Lane, do count this guy as friends and he can't explain why.

So maybe junior reporter Jimmy Olsen is on high alert in what's supposed to be a softball interview and maybe he has a lot swirling in his subconscious and maybe Clark Kent doesn't befriend idiots because he's halfway through asking Bruce Wayne, Gotham's beloved airhead son, a question about his charity work when what his handheld recorder catches is

Can you tell me more about your charitable donations to—OHMYGODYOUREBATMAN

[brucewaynehater101]

It really gets me so mad that in Batman: The Animated series when all Joker Junior happens they let Tim go. Just like that. WTF???

That's your boy Bruce, the one you drive in your limo, the one that gets an allowance, the one that impersonates you so good because he's your son. And the minute he goes through the worst experience of his life you just let him go.

Like, I get my boy Tim, him been there just reminds him of his trauma, and if being away helps him, then go away, no one's gonna judge you.

BUT 40 YEARS OF SILENCE

Like. Man. Wtf.

And I get the series has other problems (Bruce and Babs together- yuck )

But Tim, hurt Tim forced to go through it alone.

It hurts me so much, it haunts me.

Fuck. I need to watch that series. I was a wee bit scared cause I thought, at first, that Tim got stuck as Joker. I couldn't handle that, tbh. I heard he doesn't, though, so I'm down to try.

However, that's so fucking tragic. Just Tim handling that trauma alone when Bruce is aware of it. I've seen some cool AUs where Bruce and the others aren't aware, but somehow it's worse where Bruce just ignored Tim (or that it happened to him).

40 is fucking bonkers though.

I kind of want an AU where Tim reaches the 10 year anniversary of the JJ incident. The only person who knows is Bruce (maybe Alfred if you want to make him guilty/bad). The age Tim is can vary (from like 19-24), but it'd be hella cool to see the fallout of everyone else learning that Bruce has been a dick to Tim for that. This would be cool if Tim was RR at this point.

Counter AU:

JJ happens when Tim is Robin, and Bruce fires Tim "for his own safety" or whatever. No one else, not even Barbara, knows about this incident. All they know is that there *was* a third Robin, but now there's not.

Other people rein Bruce in until Damian comes along. Maybe Cass helps or something (for plot purposes, Steph isn't Robin. She does get vigilante-adopted by Oracle, though, and joins the Birds of Prey).

Either way, Tim is no longer Robin and basically ignored by Bruce due to Bruce's guilt/fear (not an excuse. Bruce is a huge colossal asshole for that. This is just his reasoning).

The only people who know who the third Robin was are Bruce, Babs, Dick, Alfred, Leslie, Jason, and Talia (technically Ra's too). No one but Jason and Talia know that Jason knows who the third Robin was.

Bruce, once again, is the only one who knows about JJ and why Tim stopped being Robin (maybe Alfred too, but fun drama if Alfred finds out what Bruce did to Tim).

Anyways, Jason never attacks Tim because Tim wasn't Robin by that point. Damian doesn't either. They don't have favorable opinions of Tim, but he's not really important to them in the grand scheme of things.

Dick and Babs initially kept in contact with Tim, but they slowly stopped checking up with him due to the shitshow of their lives (like Jason coming back).

Tim moves out of Gotham for a few years. He was never adopted at this point and keeps up the fake uncle thing. He's pissed at Bruce for firing him (that man can not tell Tim to stop being a vigilante. That's so fucking hypocritical and that man isn't Tim's father), but he can't do anything about it. Bruce can't stop him from being a vigilante if he isn't in Gotham, though [Tim also gets the opportunity to heal while he's not in the same shadow of Gotham].

While Tim isn't Robin, he does maintain some communication with YJ. It's more distant, but they still go on missions together (as long as word won't get back to Batman). Tim is also more of a traveling vigilante who steals money from Lex or other billionaires to fund Tim's night job (he, begrudgingly, doesn't attempt to steal from Bruce. Babs would catch him). Tim also pockets some of the cash from crimes (particularly if the cops are corrupt and the money wouldn't go towards good causes regardless). Maybe Tim remotely manages DI as well, maybe not.

Anyways, years later, the batfam is slowly starting to heal. Jason is starting to forgive Bruce. The old man is putting in the effort to heal their relationship. Damian is healing and bonding with all of the family members in his own way. Dick has a much better relationship with Bruce, and Steph feels accepted by them.

Then Bruce "dies."

Tim stumbles upon proof of Bruce through his travels. He doesn't trust the Bats (especially after at least a year of no contact with them), so he tries to tell them about his proof as a not well-known vigilante. Red Hood has worked with him when The Outlaws crossed paths with him, but they aren't at the stage where RH trusts him. Tim doesn't trust RH due to a conversation or two about the man's hatred of the third Robin.

The Bats, drowning in their grief, push Tim away and deny him.

It stings, but Tim convinces himself to just shrug. What would he expect from the Bats anyways?

Tim goes through the effort of bringing Bruce back by himself. He then tries to dip immediately afterwards. He wants nothing to do with the Bats.

The Bats become curious about why a vigilante who seems to dislike would risk and sacrifice so much to bring back Bruce. They, like the nosy shits they are, try to investigate, charm, and stalk Tim.

Tim wants nothing to do with those fuckers. He wants to be left alone, fucking hell.

This dissolves into Tim trying to stay the fuck away from the Waynes as they chase him. He also can't help the fact that he cares about them, even if they piss him off.

More secrets unravel. Tim, wanting them to just go the fuck away, admits he knew the third Robin and that's why he doesn't like them.

Tim has changed a ton (personality and looks [he's taller and changes his appearance with makeup/wings]) so they don't immediately think of him as the third Robin. Tim also maintains a spotless civilian cover.

This cues the other Bats starting to question each other and Bruce what the fuck happened to the third Robin to make someone else hold a grudge against them.

I got so distracted. Oh well. Imma have to watch that series to feel the pain you're chatting about ^^ I wanna immerse myself in it, lmao

[riality-check]

for the mini fic thing! 17 with Steve & Eddie? i love your drabbles!!

This is exceptionally late, and I'm slightly adjusting the prompt, but here you go!

17. "Things I wish you hadn't said"

"You know you gave me the nickname, right?" Eddie says.

He does that a lot, Steve has learned. Starts conversations in ways that sound like the middle of them. It's one thing among many he's noticed about Eddie, since March '86.

"What?" he says, half to make sure he heard him right, half because he's a little slow from the joint they've been passing back and forth.

"The Freak," Eddie explains. He says it like he's talking about the weather and takes another drag of the joint before he passes it back to Steve. "You regretted it right after you said it. Well, right after Carol shouted it loud enough for the whole cafeteria to hear. Could see it right on your face."

Steve remembers that day. His sophomore year, so Eddie's junior. Daniel McCain had gone up to Eddie, angry as anything about something Steve just had to know about.

He's glad he's not that guy anymore.

"Do you know why he came up to me? Danny?"

"No," Steve says. He interrupted that would-be conversation before he could hear any of it. He had to make himself the star of the show, all the time.

A sophomore, and already king.

He was such a prick.

He passes the joint back to Eddie without taking another drag.

"Do you remember my nose being broken?"

Steve has a flash of a memory, of a younger Eddie with hair curling just under his chin, bandages on his bruised face.

He nods.

"I kissed him the day before," Eddie says. He extinguishes the joint in favor of picking at his fingernails instead. "He didn't take too kindly to it."

Oh, shit.

"And you asked him what he had to talk to The Freak about."

For probably the hundredth time in his life, Steve hates the person he used to be. Because not only did he give Eddie the nickname that stuck with him all through the rest of his high school career, not only did he add insult to literal injury, but Steve couldn't even remember this particular cruelty in a sea of cruelties.

He wants to go back in time and shake that kid by the shoulders until his head's back on straight.

"I'm sorry. I wish I hadn't said that," he says, and it doesn't sound like nearly enough.

Eddie waves him off. "Can't go back. Besides, if you didn't say it, someone else would have. Probably me, to be honest."

Steve leans back, propping himself up on his elbows on Eddie's bed. He looks up at Eddie, sitting near his nightstand, cross-legged and still in a way that he never is when he's sober. The way he's backlit makes his hair seem like a gold halo, makes every stark detail of his silhouette stand out in a way that keeps Steve from looking away.

Not that he wants to.

He doesn't think that logic holds up. It's not worth thinking about "what-ifs," but he can't help it. He can't help the thought that if he had watched his mouth for once in his life, Eddie wouldn't have been tormented with that particular phrase.

Eddie doesn't seem to resent him for it, though. Robin always says that no one is as hard on Steve as he is, and this seems to line up with that.

Still.

"If you're not mad about it, then why-"

"I couldn't think of a better way to tell you I like boys," Eddie blurts.

Oh.

Steve has had plenty of people interested in him. He knows how to flirt back, even when they're as awkward as Eddie is, eyes burning a hole through his mattress.

It's not often that he's interested back. Really interested back.

Huh.

Guess I like men, he thinks to himself, and while thinking can wait for the morning, when he's sober, he knows that what he feels isn't going to fade along with the high.

And he knows exactly which moves to pull.

He sits up and moves a little closer to Eddie.

"Why do I need to know that?" he teases.

Eddie's head snaps up. He studies Steve's face with slightly reddened eyes, and when he finds, or doesn't find, what he's looking for, he relaxes. "Because I like you."

"You gonna do anything about it?"

"Yeah," Eddie says, leaning closer. "I'm gonna kiss you, and I hope you won't bre-"

Steve runs out of patience. He grabs Eddie's face with both hands and pulls him in.

It's a good kiss. Definitely not one worth punching over.

"You asshole!" Eddie laughs when they break apart. "You didn't let me finish my line!"

"Are you mad about it?"

"A little!"

"Too mad to kiss me again?"

Eddie pauses, grabs Steve's face, and kisses him fiercely.

Something tells Steve the answer to that last question is a resounding, "Not at all."

Prompts here.

[leftrightnomin]

Please, Sir! || Yuta Nakamoto

Pairing: Yuta Nakamoto x Reader

Summary: You found yourself sitting at the dinner table of the Nakamoto household. Rest assured that you are safe for the night. Maybe.

Genre: Smut, Rated R (18+), Bestfriend's Dad x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it up, ppl), Cheating (Yuta is married), Praise kink, Begging, Degradation, Fingering, Lots of dirty talking, Size kink, Oral sex (nky receiving), Dumbification,

A/N: Hi, did anyone miss me? Well, here's a little something for all of you. Enjoy!

~ • ~ •~ • ~ •~ • ~ •~ • ~

You had been trying to avoid going to the Nakamoto’s home. You were trying to avoid conflict with your best friend's smoking-hot father, Yuta. It wasn't like you were always around their home, Giselle lived in her own apartment. For that reason, you were thankful. When you were younger and in college you would often go over for dinner with Giselle or she’d go to your family’s house. But it wasn’t necessary anymore. You were both grown adults now with 9 to 5 jobs to attend to.

This time, however, Julia A.K.A Mrs. Nakamoto was throwing a small dinner party for their family, close friends, and relatives. Apparently, Mr. Nakamoto got promoted at his company and from what you heard, the newly acquired title comes with a six-figure salary. A big deal really. Giselle had told you that her mom and dad wanted you there.

Of course, your father would want me there. You thought.

It wouldn't be an actual crisis if you and Yuta weren't indulging in each other's warmth behind closed doors, away from his family's eyes. Or anyone at all. You'd have to be playing the poker face like crazy at the dinner table to protect what you and Yuta shared. Certainly, you wouldn’t do anything with him with all the people around.

But still, you are sure that you will be having a hard time pretending. Not now and obviously not sooner. Not when you've had a taste of the great Yuta Nakamoto. You were in for a long night now that you knew what he was like, how good he was, how wild he could get, and just how hot and filthy he could be.

You made the choice to use a panty liner solely because you thought it would be handy. Having your panties wet and also probably your pants or anything to show through your clothing wouldn't look good. You didn't anticipate needing it, but you were also aware of how frail you had become from a quick glimpse of Mr. Nakamoto.

If he even extended his hug or spoke to you in a deep, seductive voice or if he smiled too broadly while flashing those dimples, you were pretty well doomed. So, yes, for practical reasons, merely a just-in-case moment, you wore pantyliners.

You were picked up by Giselle as scheduled. The trip to The Nakamotos' home took close to 30 minutes.

"Are you alright?" Giselle maintained her focus on the road. She detected something about you. She simply had no idea what.

"Yeah. No doubt. Why?"

"You've been quiet since you got in my car. It reminds me of when we first met in junior high or worse," she chuckled as she hastily cast a short glance your way.

Prior to her arrival, you made an effort to relax. You calmed your stiff body and mind through meditation, chamomile tea, and a bite of dried ginger. You practiced some meditative yoga while listening to soothing background music. And you thought it was beneficial.

But as soon as Yuta's text message chimed into your phone, your pulse shot up and you started to sweat heavily. All that effort you put into calming yourself was for nothing.

He didn't say anything other than that he was anticipating seeing you after asking you if you were still coming. There it was. His communications contained nothing sexually explicit or provocative. Without trying, he did that to you. Hence the need for wearing pantyliners was a must.

You shook your head and laughed at your friend's remark. "No, I'm alright. Just worn out. Last night at the restaurant was a long one. Not exactly a lie, but I had barely arrived home by midnight."

And that appeared to be a suitable response. Giselle didn't inquire more about your strange behavior that evening at least.

There were Yuta's brother and his wife. The parents, husband, and cousin of Mrs. Nakamoto, a friend from down the street and a neighbor. Then, you and Giselle. That's it.

A delightful modest supper with dessert was served along with drinks. some musical selections. It was lovely to see everyone chatting while outside. However, you were agitated and making an effort to force yourself to stop staring at the man of the moment. Your cheeks and neck warmed up each time your sight met his, sending shivers down your spine.

Control yourself, Y/N.

It's a celebratory dinner for Pete's sake.

You shouldn't even be thinking of it.

You got along well with Yuta over dinner. He treated you as the best friend of his daughter. It was good yet at the same time you detested it.

You wished you could join everyone else in laughing at his jokes while sitting on his lap and encircling his shoulders. You desired to boldly kiss him in front of his crowd and hold his hand. But it was clear that wouldn't happen.

The man's wife was always close by. And after all, he was only secretly yours. With the door locked, in your apartment, and covered in fabrics. He was only yours in the absence of sight and hearing of others.

At supper, you barely gave him a glance as you were eating. Not even when he was speaking to everyone and expressing gratitude for their attendance. You restrained yourself from glancing at his face. You admired how his eyes sparkled and how his lips twitched, how he made motions with his hands and ringed fingers while he spoke, and most importantly, his smile. You knew it would only cause you trouble if you did.

At the conclusion of his little thank-you speech, he turned to face you and raised his glass. Along with the others, you raised yours skyward before taking a sip collectively eyes fixed on him. Even if it just lasted a few seconds, it made you warm. Hot enough to have your thighs pressed closely together beneath your white linen dress.

When everyone was mingling and strolling around the backyard, Yuta had the chance to walk up to you.

He placed his hand on your bare shoulder and whispered into your ear, "I missed you, sweetheart."

All of your encounters with her took place there at your residence. He sometimes spends a night there and even a whole full day.

However, you were scheduled to work and cover for a few servers who couldn't arrive for whatever reason because you had been busy. Additionally, Yuta was absent for nearly a week due to a business trip. Typically, you and Yuta met once a week at most. He hadn't spent any time in your bed in a few weeks.

It's true—you really did miss him.

"Do not leave until you and I are able to have a chat."

He squeezed at your exposed skin as he emphasized the word chat, and as he started to leave, he glanced down at you and winked.

A panty liner was indeed required.

You assisted Giselle in replenishing some of the empty bottles and replacing the cooler's ice. You made an effort to keep busy and avoid thinking about what Yuta wanted to "chat" about. Or suppose "chat" was a code word for something different.

At the gathering, a neighbor approached you and entertained you with his jokes. He appeared to be friendly and outgoing with everyone. You could understand his invitation and the Nakamoto's preference for him as a close friend. He was extremely hilarious. In fact, chatting to him and hearing his outrageous college narrative got you thinking back to your own experience while making you giggle. He assisted you in temporarily forgetting about your small taboo affair. He temporarily distracted you from Yuta.

Yet, Yuta didn't like how you and Johnny were laughing.

You were smiling when Johnny gently took hold of your forearm and moved in to speak to you. And so, when the man stood right next to you and your new friend, the brief respite you got from thinking about Yuta and swooning over him abruptly ended.

"Y/N, I need your assistance with something," He furrowed his brow and indicated the home, "Would you help me, please?"

Oh.

You took a breath and nodded, "Sure, Mr. Nakamoto."

You gave Johnny a courteous grin and walked with the broad-shouldered guy into his house.

Yuta escorted you upstairs and into a spacious bathroom which was never used in silence. He quickly ushered you inside and secured the door with a click sound of the door lock. He undid the cuffs from his pale pink button-up shirt while you watched in silence, then raised his eyes to meet yours as he rolled the material up his forearms.

"Isn't Johnny a great guy?" Yuta finally spoke up, leaning against the wide vanity sink with the wall-length mirror opposite him and crossing his arms over his wide chest.

"Yeah," you smiled sheepishly as you nodded, "He is nice. Funny too."

Yuta pursed his lips and slowly scanned your figure, taking you in.

He had seen your attire and had daringly glanced at you all evening, but he was unable to hold his stare for very long. Hence, nothing he experienced was gratifying. It wasn't enough to allow himself to see your ass's curvature or the point where your neck and jaw connected. He was now relieved that he was finally able to get the close look at you that he had been craving for all night.

"What were you two discussing?" Yuta jutted out his hips and displayed his stunning bulge for you as he uncrossed his arms and placed his palms on the marble top of the vanity behind him.

Acting with knowledge, I see.

"Well, sir, absolutely nothing actually. He was relating stories to me from his time in university. We were exchanging stories from college."

"Yeah? Did you discover after that the two of you have a lot in something in common?" He furrowed his brow.

You glanced briefly at his crotch before returning to his face. It was an uninvited glance. He saw where your eyes wandered, and even though you didn't mean to, it made him smile.

"No. Not really," you thought as you reciprocated his sly grin with your own and crossed your arms over your chest.

Over the months, you had grown to know him a little, and this small detail about him straight away made you feel at peace. He liked playing with you, teasing and building up your hunger for his heat.

"Why do you have a lot of questions about Johnny? Are you perhaps interested in him?" You crack a joke.

"No, I'm not," said Yuta, cocking his head and widening his grin. "Come, move closer."

You took the few sluggish steps necessary to narrow the distance between you two while biting your lip and uncrossing your arms. Your hips aligned with his as soon as you were within arm's reach of him.

"I'm just worried that I haven't been able to fuck you in what?" He then pulled you into him by your waist and said, "A span of three weeks?"

You chuckled softly and nodded, "Almost, 18 days to be exact."

Yuta smirked, "Counting the days without my cock are you?"

You placed your arms around his shoulders, saying, "Yes," with a big smile and a giggle. "I missed you so much, Mr. Nakamoto."

Yuta admired your lips briefly before returning her attention to your eyes, "Unfortunately, the house is crowded with visitors."

You frowned, "I'll be quiet, Sir. I promise."

"I bet you'd love for me to bend you over so I can fuck you right now in this bathroom, wouldn't you?" Yuta murmured in a low, raspy voice as he moved one of his hands up to your face and thumbed over your cheekbone.

You quickly separated your lips while nodding, "Yes, please, Sir. "

Yuta scolded, "So filthy. So fucking desperate. Do you need me that much, baby?" As you reached your tongue out to taste it, his thumb lightly touched your bottom lip.

You looked at his eyes with lust and a hint of greed. You needed his cock so bad. You wailed as you attempted to encircle his thumb with your lips, but he quickly withdrew his hand from your grasp. He was suddenly slipping between your legs and was pulling you such that you were pulled up onto the counter.

"When was the last time you had an orgasm?" he asks as his palms go underneath your dress and grab hold of your thighs.

Your words were breaths, "This morning."

"Really, how horrible was it? You don't seem to be content with anything. You used your fingers, right?"

"Yes, Sir. I used my clit sucker, too," you grinned and ran your fingers down his chest, "Pretended it was you between my legs."

Despite how cool he was behaving, you could see his dick hardening in his trousers and knew he was getting turned on.

"And you're still in such need? Does your little pussy require a lot of care or are you just pure filthy greedy for it?

"A little bit of both, Sir, " You let out a heavy breathe.

"I bet you're drenched as hell."

You gasped as you saw what he was about to find as his hands traveled upward toward your panties. Your wet underwear liner. Hardly that, seductive.

He stopped with a perplexed expression when his index finger touched the crotch of your pants. It felt unique not typical.

"Are you perhaps on your period, angel?" He said as he examined your underwear by pushing your legs apart and removing your dress.

When he ran his fingers down the edge of the cotton in your panty liner, he recognized what it was which earned you a light frustrated groan.

"No," you jerked your head. "It was only for keeping dry."

Yuta licked his lips and poked his middle finger beneath the crotch of your pants, and when he grasped what you meant, his eyebrows went up. Your underwear was dry, but the liner was sodden. As he kissed your lips, his fingers found your crease and softly played with it.

Both his fingers and the kiss were gentle and easy. He massaged your soaking pussy lips while you whimpered and ran your hands through his hair.

He kissed you briefly before removing his hands from your underwear and saying, "Like I said, our home is crowded with people."

"I bet your wet pussy would feel fantastic wrapped around my cock, right now," he kissed you soft lips once again. "I'm going to fuck my fist tonight thinking about how wet you got for me before I even touched you, princess."

"Please, Sir. Please." Angry, you yanked at his hands and begged, "I'll keep quiet, I promise. We can do it silently. I just —,"

You let your head down and closed your eyes tightly from too much need and frustration.

He raised you chin so that you could meet his equally lustful eyes, "Wow. Look at you. So frustrated and needy."

"I don’t know baby," you felt his hands on your thighs again. "I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He squeezed your thighs, his eyes growing darker and the bulge under his pants, pushing hard at his zipper.

“Please, fuck me, Mr. Nakamoto,"

"You’re the only one that can satisfy me,”

"I really need your cock,"

You were practically a mess by the time, begging so desperately for what you've been need the past eighteen days.

Yuta let out a laugh through his nose and shook his head, “Although that's a fact, I still think it's just too risky.”

Although he held your thighs firmly in place and used his pink tongue to moisten his lips as he peered down at your cleavage, his body language belied what he had just stated.

You were aware of the risk as well. However, you had another thought. You'd already politely asked him even added a please. He just wanted to continue acting as though he didn't care about you. He wanted you to beg for him.

And you did. Like a whore thirsty for cock, you desperately did.

"I want your cock, Mr. Nakamoto,"

"I don't think a toy will do for tonight,"

"I really fucking need your cock,"

He knew he had the upper hand, "You're gonna have to be patient little one."

You figured he'd hear you pleading with him once more. Of course, with a bargain in mind.

"Sir, I cannot wait now. It hurts," you pouted.

You brought his hand back to your front and held it in place, "Feel me, Mr. Nakamoto. Feel my aching clit hungry for your touch."

He shut his eyes and clinched his jaw as you stared. He was aware that you were playing with him to get what you want. After all, he was already wrapped around your tiny little fingers.

"Oh my sweet, sweet princess,"

"Would Johnny reject my request if I made it?" You asked with a raised brow as your last attempt of seducing him.

"You are such a fucking brat, princess," he shook his head, eyes glaring intensely at yours.

His comments sounded mean but they sounded so good to your ears. Accompanied with a smirk on his flushed face, he pulled your pants with its liner down your legs, tossing it onto the floor, and immediately undid his pants, pulling his cock out from the front of his briefs.

When you first saw his girthy, warm cock unconstrained, you couldn't help but groan. You moved to the edge and positioned your bare feet on the counter top so you were spread out and readily available for him to access as you reached down to touch him. Ready for him to ruin.

"Is this what you were hungry for?" Yuta already had lust in his eyes, His gaze was heavy as he eyed you and cupped his cock in his hand while holding his tip to your wet hole and asking,

"Mhmm," you hummed as you felt the tip of his pulsating cock.

"Wanted to be fucked by a married man in the guest bathroom?"

Fuck, his voice sounds so good.

"Wanted to get with my daughter and wife merely down there?"

So fucking good.

"Wanted me to fuck you with a house full of strangers wondering where I am?" Yuta's strong voice eventually broke through your tight muscle as he spoke lowly into your ear.

"Fuck, yes please, Sir." You desperately nodded, "I don't care if there's people downstairs. All I want is your cock."

"You better be true to your word, sweetheart." Yuta warned you. "Be quiet or else, I'll stop."

"Yes… yes," you mumbled as gently as you could and clung to his shoulders to keep yourself steady, as you gasped at the way his huge cock started to push past your soft and wet walls.

Yuta watched as his cock gently dipped inside your pussy and heaved a trembling breath mingled with a gasp. You were already so drenched in your own juice that Yuta could hear when he pulled back an inch before diving in even deeper.

"Fuck!"

"Can't help myself, Y/N. You're pussy is choking my cock so deliciously."

He started to push and cant his hips, sinking so far into your cunt that each time he came to the bottom, his balls hit you "My sweet girl is doing such an excellent job taking me in."

Yuta pushes in accompanied with either a soft groan or a whimper.

"Ugh, so tight sweetheart,"

Thrusts in.

"Fuck, yes,"

Pulls out.

"Ooh, more please,"

In.

"So good,"

Out.

You were relieved that the only sounds were gasps, pants, and the sound of a pussy being pounded.

Yuta leaned in so he could reach for your lips and fuck you slowly, trying his best to minimize the sound of skin sticking and slapping while you clung tightly to his shoulders.

Your limbs were starting to tire, and your head was spinning from too much pleasure. Your thighs were kept wide by Yuta's painful yet pleasurable grip.

"Fuck, Yuta," You gasped as he released one of your thighs and put his thumb to your clit exactly as you needed, "Right there, Mr. Nakamoto. Don't stop, please!"

This was one of the things you couldn't resist. He always understood your needs perfectly.

"Here?" He smirked as he started to lose rhythm while fucking into you. "Do I make you feel good, baby? Are you gonna come for me?"

"Oh fuck yes," you covered your mouth in an attempt to silence your moans. "So good, Mr. Nakamoto. You're cock fills so fucking good."

Your stomach started to burn and your thighs began trembling as Yuta's lips remained over your mouth and he kept rocking his hips in. You sobbed into his mouth and tightened your hold on his shoulders.

"Such desperate little whore you are," Yuta himself said in a tense, labored voice as he felt his balls contract. "Couldn't even wait for a couple more days,"

He always met his demise too quickly thanks to you. He felt like he was a horny teenager once again every time he was with you. There is no turning back when it comes to you. Your immaculate, tight and slick pussy, complete with bedroom eyes and full lips — he wanted it. He had a similar burning desire for you. He desperately need you.

“Desperate for you, Mr. Nakamoto," You panted and felt the hot decadence of your insides begin to unfurl as Yuta’s thumb expertly rubbed and circled your clit. "Want you so bad. I'll let you ruin me all day and all night."

He sensed you starting to close in on him and, anticipating your climax, "M'coming, Mr. Nakamoto. So fucking close, fuck!"

"Come for me, sweetheart," he covered your mouth with his. "Come all over my hard cock."

You saw stars and writhed onto his thumb as he continued to thrust into you with deep, powerful strokes while he kissed you hungrily. He was couldn't help himself back either at each twitch your cunt made and the slick noises of your pouring orgasm.

"Fuck, baby. I'm gonna come,"

"Come inside me, Sir," you caressed his hair as you came down your own high, "Give it all to me."

"Fuck," He rutted into you forcefully while panting into your mouth, shoving himself so deeply that his come could adequately coat every part of your body. "Oh, feels so good, Y/N."

He slowly drew away from you and then fucked himself back into you until he was balls-deep in you, all of his juices smothered your warm walls.

He pulled your legs up over his hips as he leaned in to kiss you, removing his thumb from your overstimulated clit and placing both hands on your thighs. His cock was still pulsing as he came down, and as he pressed his mouth against yours.

You laughed in his face, "Mr. Nakamoto, we were both desperate for release."

Knowing that he was in the same situation as you made you smile.

You finally dropped your legs as Yuta gently hissed at how sensitive he felt as he pushed himself away from the kiss. It wasn't the same, despite the fact that he had been torturing himself with thoughts of you every night. He desired your pussy to be content, just as you desired for his cock.

Not only his cock, either.

Him.

Mr. Nakamoto was essential.

It started to become an obsession. Your obsession.

Yuta brought his finger up to your lips after dragging it along the area where his come was starting to escape from you. He smiled at your greed as you quickly sucked his warm sperm from his fingers.

Your cheek was lovingly stroked by his knuckles as he said, "You are my sweet daughter, aren't you?"

You chuckled and gave him a sly smile, "You're just too hard to resist, Sir."

"What day off are you taking next?"

"Wednesday. Why?" You gave him an expectant smile.

"Stay free on that day." He handed you your underwear and casually stated, "I'm coming over," before pulling his pants back up.

"What if I already had plans that day?" You hopped down from the counter while grinning as your panties were being dragged up your legs.

He encircled you, palms flat on the vanity counter on either side of your hips lightly pinning you against the counter, "Cancel them."

Why would you refuse? You couldn't even though you should. You even loved to tease him a little, but you weren't going to anyhow. With him, you can never say no. It's the same way as he could never resist you.

"Okay. Fine. My scheduled has been moved, Sir. Considering how lost and hopeless you are without me."

Yuta shook his head and laughed through his nose, "Such a mouthy brat."

He gave you one final kiss before straightening himself up in the mirror and exiting the bathroom as if he hadn't just screwed his daughter's best friend while his spouse and other relatives were present.

You groaned and smiled as you turned to face the mirror. Such a mistake. But he was in such excellent spirits.

And even though he was married, you were well aware that he belonged to you.

[utilitycaster]

@rowzeoli replied to your post “Do you think part of the D20 journalistic bias...”:

I rarely go on tumblr so sorry if you see me spamming your posts tonight, but I really enjoy your perspective and thoughts! I think I'm the journalist you're referencing in regards to the Fantasy High Junior Year article and unfortunately 1) journalists only get access to interview subjects at very specific junctions (usually press day before the series goes out or halfway through) 2) most publications are honestly Going Through It and cutting freelance rates and just not paying to cover AP

​So I'll be totally honest - I post on Tumblr because I assume it is far more unlikely to be seen and so I can vent freely (hence the fairly harsh tone of the criticism in the original post), but I guess this is a chance to clarify. I don't expect anything to change, nor do I expect you to respond; indeed, I wouldn't blame you if you block me after this. But if readership is down (and who knows? maybe it's not and I'm the outlier), this may be illuminating.

The issue with your specific article - which I brought up relatively tangential to the larger point of "at this point I think Polygon's AP/TTRPG coverage is a waste of time to read" isn't really that it's only an early look at the series; and because Fantasy High Junior Year is at this time ongoing, it's honestly entirely valid that there hasn't been a follow-up. It's, well, the "surface-level and factually wrong" issue.

Dimension 20 was by no means the pioneer of remote recording as you claim in your article; that had long been the default of smaller recorded AP shows well before pandemic lockdown for the simple reason that if you're not a media company the overhead is very low - no need to have a dedicated space or even cameras beyond decent laptops. Burrow's End's puppetry? Critical Role's Call of Cthulhu: Shadow of the Crystal Palace did shadow puppets in 2019. They had diagetic audio on the main campaign as early as 2016. I don't even like Kollok, but that's had complex set design since 2019. Meanwhile premise of the article is yet another rehash of Polygon's "Dimension 20 is CHANGING THE GAME" constant drumbeat, while your actual pull quotes from Brennan Lee Mulligan are him musing that this is simply an entry in an ancient tradition of storytelling and isn't, in fact, terribly novel. The interview fails utterly to back up your point and indeed contradicts it; I get that the timeline was probably tight but this is outright incorrect in multiple places and your argument isn't just unsupported; it's outright dismissed by the very person you claim is proving it. If the premise came before the interview, it needed to be reworked afterwards, and if it came after the interview…I'm not sure what to say, really.

This isn't your article, and I'm putting it here to illustrate that this has been a pattern for Polygon's AP coverage specifically. This article about Worlds Beyond Number is perhaps my favorite example of "this is not serious journalism:" Rusty Quill Gaming, The Adventure Zone, Friends at the Table, and NADDPod are all theater of the mind long-running podcasts (RQG's campaign lasted a whopping 7 years of real time) and that's just off the top of my head; the idea of a long-running edited audio podcast being novel is laughable. RQG and TAZ both started at level 1; I'm not personally familiar with Friends at the Table. I don't actually think starting at level 1 vs. 2 is terribly important in storytelling in the first place other than that a few D&D classes pick their subclass at L2 and that choice can be narratively relevant, which it was in TAZ; however, some classes pick a subclass at L3 so you can still achieve this with a level 2 start (as Critical Role's second campaign does). Both Emily Axford of NADDPod and Griffin McElroy of TAZ have long been composing their own music and RQG is heavily sound designed. These are not obscure pulls, either; these are some of the more well-known names in the space.

At this point, Polygon AP/TTRPG articles - by multiple different writers - simply feel like madlibs: "(actual play show) is groundbreaking in its (thing that other shows have been doing for 5+ years); I especially liked (visual effect) and (incorrect understanding of TTRPG mechanics)."

The people I allude to in the post you responded to as having egregiously uncharitable and sanctimonious takes on Daggerheart (within, again, hours of its publication) are a frequent Polygon contributor and a Rascal editor and they further my mistrust of those publications: There is this constant insistence that everything they like be "groundbreaking" and "innovating" and they will claim this even when it's demonstrably not the case, as the above examples note. As Mulligan says in your article "it’s important to keep new artists with new experiences and backgrounds flowing in," and yet by focusing intensely on high production values (difficult for smaller indie upstarts to have) and by incorrectly claiming that a well-established media company within the space like D20 invented a number of things it flat out did not, this journalism is actively, if unintentionally, working against that goal. As I put it elsewhere, Polygon's bizarre pedestaling of Dimension 20 and simultaneous putdowns of Critical Role (which turn into wild contortions when D20 mainstays like Mulligan or Aabria Iyengar collaborate with CR; for that matter others besides me have observed that Polygon acts like Spenser Starke is two different people, the genius who created Alice is Missing and the knuckle-dragging moron who put out Candela Obscura and Daggerheart) coupled with the obsession with production values over story has the whiff of claiming they're the champion of the little guy for sticking it to the 700 lb gorilla in the space and then focusing on 500 lb gorillas while making it impossible for smaller monkeys to compete because most brand new shows without the name recognition of someone like Mulligan involved can't exactly hire Rick Perry to do their models or Taylor Moore to do sound design.

I suppose a good way to put this, since I've run into this in many spaces, not just AP/TTRPG or even journalism, is that bias on its own in a subjective medium isn't inherently bad; but if something is so nakedly biased against something I love, I will, naturally, turn to it with a far more critical eye, and if its arguments are not ironclad I'm going to start noticing every structural issue in every argument and every tiny mistake. Sure, as a fan of Critical Role, and as someone who feels that Kollok was nigh-unwatchable and that Burrow's End was promising in parts but deeply flawed, I disagreed with Polygon's nonstop mud-slinging towards the former and glowing, verging on fawning reviews of the latter two. But that's not entirely damning on its own; I do get that not everyone will like Critical Role and that some people will love Kollok or Burrow's End for valid reasons. What's damning is the journalism itself is riddled with factual errors and the analysis is so weak that to call the arguments a flimsy house of cards would be generous. The opposite is also true; if Polygon's lead editor were out here repeatedly misspelling the name of one of the main characters in Worlds Beyond Number (note: this has since been corrected) but the articles had compelling arguments, even ones I disagreed with, I'd be far more forgiving, but as is? It's offering me absolutely nothing: it's poorly researched, it's poorly structured, it's poorly written, it's poorly copy-edited, and it shits on things I like seemingly just for clicks. I'm done giving clicks.

I am deeply sympathetic to the pressures facing digital journalism and media and the arts in general; as someone who is fortunate enough not to personally face those pressures and has the income to be a patron, I would love to help in my small way (and I do, at least, financially support a number of the AP shows I love). But the quality of some of this journalism is truly so bad that I can't bring myself to support the institutions putting it out; it's "dead dove do not eat" until such time as someone whose analysis and opinions I do trust cites them (or, perhaps, until there is a sea change of lead editorship). I know that this won't help the crunch, and may make it worse, but I just can't because the quality is so poor. I don't have a good solution to how to write about something that takes a lot of time to watch and process and about which the articles pay very little in return, but the current strategy of bouncing between uninformed provocateur and utter sycophant depending on the show and creators; of drooling over such surface features as shiny production and falsely claiming everything is "groundbreaking" while getting the most basic facts wrong has driven me away.

[autismtana]

brittany s pierce is autistic

around a year ago, i made this post about santana lopez and why i (as a neurodivergent person) view her as having adhd (among other things which i've mentioned elsewhere and plan on writing more meta about), and i think it's finally time to talk about brittany s pierce, my autistic queen, and why i view her as autistic.

firstly, i want to acknowledge that i'm not the first person to headcanon brittany as autistic. i'm nowhere near the first person to write a post about it. in fact, sue sylvester calls brittana "autistically feisty", which i think is the closest we've got to an actually autistic canon confirmation. i'd suggest reading these posts by smolbrittana and sopheadraws among others. brittany has also been written as autistic in fanfiction (the road to unicorn and there's something about santana are two of my personal favourites in terms of writing brittany as autistic in an authentic way that doesn't feel like autistic media portrayed by neurotypical people).

as i've said in other posts, i'm autistic myself and also have a background in adolescent psychology. i do not endorse diagnosing real people with anything; brittany s pierce is a fictional character and displays a lot of traits that resonate with me as an autistic person hence why i am making this post. i'm also aware that some of these things were written to be throwaway lines or comic effect but viewing them as that and viewing them through an autistic lens does not have to be mutually exclusive. also, i use identity-first language, which is generally preferred among actually autistic folks.

(trigger warning for discussion of sexual assault, as well as mention of school shooting)

sidenote but i also believe brittany to have a specific learning disability in language in addition to being autistic which will most likely require its own post.

anyway, without further ado, let's go.

poor executive functioning - brittany struggles with basic self-care tasks such as brushing her teeth and remembering to eat breakfast. it's also worth pointing out that a lot of autistic folks struggle with brushing their teeth for sensory reasons, which could be a possibility with brittany and why her teeth were in the state they were in during 2x02. i myself did not brush my teeth regularly until i got braces (when i was 15).

difficulty coping with change - this one is pretty broad and can encompass small things, such as believing in santa claus or believing that storks bring babies in her junior year of high school, and big things, such as her feelings of hopelessness and depression when she is held back a year and santana goes off to louisville.

rigid routines - writes everything with multicoloured crayon (a different crayon for every letter). she was also very particular when the planning for her wedding was taking place; was stressed out by the idea of santana seeing her in her wedding dress and felt the need to put a lot of rituals in place to alleviate her feelings of anxiety in that situation.

difficulty comprehending figurative language - brittany tends to take things people say at face value. there are a lot of examples of her misunderstanding when other people use non-literal figures of speech (e.g. "brittany, take it away"/"take what away?"). in 3x22 mercedes wishes everyone in glee club could all stay in the room together so they wouldn't have to leave and brittany suggests using the bin for a toilet and eating joe.

unusual eating habits - brittany has pica (consuming non-food items); canonically she has eaten the snowflakes at sadie hawkins, kleenex, sand in her master cleanse and the soil sue put in her and santana's lockers.

very particular narrow interests - brittany is an expert on cat diseases and (although the storyline bothers me for personal reasons) she is also exceptional at maths.

flat affect - often speaks in a monotone voice

tendency to come across as blunt or rude - this comes through in a lot of her interactions with tina and rachel, as well as in her speech to santana's abuela in 6x06 and her communication with guests on fondue for two.

inability to lie - often tells on herself, particularly in instances concerning sue and being pressured to spy on the glee club for her.

heightened sensory experiences - the one time when she notices blaine isn't in glee club because she can smell his hair gel. brittany is a great dancer (because the actress who played her was a professional dancer who worked with beyoncé) and is sensory-seeking in a proprioceptive way. she also enjoys the use of koosh pens and fidgets with them at times.

"unconventional" experiences with gender identity and/or gender expression and sexuality - research has shown that autistic individuals are more likely to identify as part of the lgbtq+ community, which brittany does as a bi woman. she has also experimented with androgynous gender expression (e.g. her senior prom outfit) and she ran for prom king.

masking - tends to have different personas depending on who she's with. she is more comfortable around santana and mercedes, but alters how she communicates with people depending on how they have communicated with her (or santana, who she's very protective of) in the past.

hyperfixations - when she's running kurt's (and later her own) campaign for president, a lot of her dialogue includes mentions of unicorns.

learning difficulties and poor experience in mainstream schooling - statistically, autistic children have poor school outcomes (and it's entirely the fault of the school system, not the children themselves). 60-70% of autistic people also have a learning disability. 56% of autistic youth in australia report being treated unfairly at school. when talking to rachel in 2x13, brittany explicitly says that teachers have told her that by not attending class, her grades might improve. as a result of the lack of support (which may have led to discomfort in asking for assistance), brittany was unable to graduate from high school with her peers.

naivety and/or childlike interests - brittany can be gullible at times (e.g. sue's baby cannons tactic). as smolbrittana pointed out in their post, she writes with crayon and plays with barbies at times.

difficulty understanding other people's points of view - the dissonance between her own understanding and expectations of sex versus artie's expectations for what his first sexual experience should be like.

unconventional ways of expressing emotions - brittany often uses lord tubbington to describe how she feels about a particular situation (often when she's upset about a situation involving santana); for example, she tells lord tubbington "you joined a gang" right after santana tells her over skype that her commitments to the louisville cardinals cheerleading team impede on her ability to talk to brittany over skype.

burnout - i've touched on this in other posts, but brittany's presentation in 5x12 and 5x13 read as her being exhausted and overwhelmed with feeling forced to pursue mathematics and not have any other creative outlet.

faceblindness - brittany mistakes a brunette girl who is a member of the prom committee for rachel, and at times confuses unique and mercedes.

love of animals - brittany has a close connection with her cats, lord tubbington and lady tubbington. research shows that autistic individuals prefer to interact with animals over humans and 80% of autistic children participated in pet therapy.

freeze response to trauma - brittany experienced a freeze response during the lockdown in 4x18, which is common in autistic people. this can be prolonged and can occur for minutes, even hours.

sexual trauma - this is unfortunately a case of glee making a joke out of serious topics and it's not an isolated incident. in 1x17, brittany (who at the time is a sophomore and therefore 15 or 16 years old), in an effort to state her case for why she should be ranked higher on quinn's arbitrary list of who are the most sexually promiscuous glee club members, mentioned that she has "made out" with mr kidney the janitor, who is presumably an adult as he is employed by the school* (also i want to point out that any relationship involving a school employee and a school student that is of a sexual nature is predatory regardless of age; for example, although puck is 18 when he has a sexual relationship with shelby, she is still in a position of power over him and by engaging in a romantic and later sexual relationship with him is a sexual predator). in 3x05, brittany later describes her first sexual experience as an "alien invasion" (and in fact the original dialogue for that scene revealed that she was 14 and the "alien" in question was a 19-year-old). research suggests that 30% of women have experienced sexual assault, and 2-3x as many autistic women are affected. an estimated 9 out of 10 autistic women have been victims of sexual assault. outside of her relationship with santana (who also canonically has experienced SA), brittany engages in hypersexual behaviour; she mentions having a "perfect record" and she mentions her sexual history as evidence of her popularity when persuading kurt to let her be his campaign manager. this can be interpreted as her way of coping with her traumatic experiences, and it becomes a problem when she uses sex as a way to help artie move on from tina, not realising that artie views sex differently than how she does.

(*also i want to point out that brittany's experiences with mr kidney could have also occurred much earlier than when she brought them up, which is even more unfortunate)

[wolfs-archive]

"Did you really have to tie me like this? I feel like I'm about to be raped"

Masterlist

Summary: Coworkers Chan and Y/N where Chan has had feelings for Y/N but just a bit apprehensive about getting rejected. A team party brings out the feelings from Chan.

Pairing: Coworker!Chris X Coworker!Y/N

Genre: suggestive, fluff maybe??, mention of passionate kissing, Chan getting tied up, drunk confessions, mention of rape.

Note: The Chan mentioned here is no where related to the idol Stray Kids and is just a fictional character. Minors DNI please!!!

A/N: Chan was chosen as the next fic request and in the list of topics the "Chan's Drunk confession" was voted the most.

"Y/N... you are pretty", he said for the 35th time and the next time, "Y/N.." he started. "I am pretty, isn't it?" completed Y/N. "No I love you!!!! I have always been, and will always!!!!! Care to be my girlfriend?" he asked. "Finally!!!! Do you know how many days I have waiting for this?" she replied with a smile on her face.

Chan and Y/N have always been colleagues, Chan's love for Y/N had no bounds. Whenever Y/N wanted a helping hand in her coding, the brainy Chan would come to her assistance. When he saw her walking to grab a bottle, he would too in the name of seeing her. Though having different cabinets they were faced opposite to each other, but Chan wanted to watch her throughout her life. Ask him why he liked her. Was it because she was beautiful? No. Was it because she was helpful? No. Was it because she was a good colleague? No. It was because she always had such a carefree attitude, if anything went wrong she wouldn't get upset or feel bad about it, instead, she would see the good side to it. An Optimistic person. She knew how to handle things carefully. A supportive senior for her juniors. All this character made him fall for her. At times he found it hot when Y/N was bossy with her close mates. Yearning to be in that circle and be under the influence of a dominant Y/N made Chan fall for her even more.

Chan had tried multiple times to confess it through something else but in vain. Once he sent a bouquet of flowers during valentine's. Despite knowing it, she announced it in the group chat asking the person to come in person to confess to her if he had the guts. Our man had no guts to and didn't. Similarly, during their common outing, he asked her if he wanted to help her build the tent and she retorted saying she could help herself. Y/N didn't want to brag, but was very happy to have Chan fall in love with her, she too fell for him and wanted him to come out of the zone to make him comfortable enough and not make him feel all restless. Hence she decided to hide her feelings, till Chan himself confessed to her.

The project Chan and Y/N worked on was well appreciated by the client and to celebrate the happy moment the team (had other members as well!!) gathered for a few drinks that night. A few rounds later, Chan who was seen drunk approached a yet sober Y/N. "Is this place free? Can I sit here?" he asked. "Mm, sure. Why not?" answered Y/N. "A--Actu---Actually, I have been wanting to tell you something? "he stuttered. "Go ahead, I'm all ears" she said. "Y/N you are pretty!!!" he started. And that's how Chan confessed to Y/N. The moment he confessed, he went giddy and fell unconscious on the table. As the party came to a conclusion. Y/N decided to take Chan to his house. Ofc!!!! We girls are the best stalkers when it comes to our boys, so we definitely know their whereabouts. When Y/N drove home, she rolled the windows down to let Chan breathe the natural air to help him sober up. As soon as she reached the home, she took him up the stairs, entered the door, and went to his bedroom to make him lay on it comfortably. She removed his shoes and went for a change of clothes. By now, Chan had woken up from being unconscious, but was still drunk. When she opened the buttons of his shirt, he pushed her hand away, saying, "Who are you? I'm Y/N's. Only she can touch me" he said. Seeing his vulnerable state made Y/N laugh and then literally had to fight for her life, when she changed clothes for him. Chan's hands were always on work. Feeling too sweaty, he decided to remove his pants, when Y/N stopped him from. After, changing his clothes, she made him drink water, and when she tucked his sheets, she felt a huge grip on her waist. When she turned to take his hands off her, he pulled her into a kiss. Man was really too hot or maybe passionate I guess, he bit her lips when he was kissing and when she broke out, she felt the iron smell from her lips which she realised blood. "Christopher Chan, you menace!!!! It's really tough dealing with you when you're drunk. Look at you all acting afraid till yesterday as though I would eat you up alive, and now having all the guts to kiss me, when you couldn't even confess when you're sober." she said and went to the cupboard to search for another shirt. The reason why? To tie his hands to the bedpost so that he doesn't engage in any other mishap. Once it was all done, she went to sleep on the couch. She set an alarm so that she could wake up early to prepare a hangover cure for her so called boyfriend.

Chan woke up the morning with a splitting headache. Unable to move his hands, he had to check if he was at home or if someone had kidnapped him. When he saw the ceiling, the window and its blinders, he was sure it was his house. "Excuse me" he shouted for help. Y/N came in with a ladle. "Y/N, what is this? Why are you home? Who tied me up?" he asked. "Hold on, Chill!! One at a time" she replied. "For your first question. Mr. Chris, I tied you up. For the second one, I was the one who brought you home when you passed out after getting drunk" she said raising the ladle. "And finally for the third one, I was the one who tied you up" she finally finished. "Y/N.. Why.. Why do you seem like you got hurt on your lips, did anyone attack you? Why have you tied me up?". "It's not wound by hurt, it was your passionate kiss, in the process of kissing, you bit me." she said smirking. "If someone had attacked me, it was none other than you.. As for why I have tied you, your hands seem to be a menace, they hugged my waist, pulled me down, didn't allow me to change your shirt, and was about to remove your pants" she emphasised pointing to where his zippers were. "Did you really have to tie me like this? I feel like I'm about to be raped" he said with his eyes focussing on those ties and with a hint of embarrassment. "If I didn't tie your hands, I don't know what all those hands would have done to me, also, I don't mind raping you either...." she said suggestively. Hearing this from Y/N, made him look at her with shock. "Y/N?? Wh- What do you mean?" he asked. "The entire office including me knew you were the one to offer flowers to me, Even a fool would know the amount of love you directed towards me. Why would you hesitate to let your feelings out? Afraid of rejection? I wanted you to take time to confess to me, and that's why I waited" she added. "But I didn't confess to you yet" he said. "Chan, I get that you're the one with lots of brain, but I think it doesn't help when it comes to love or romance I guess." she said as she went close to him to untie the knot. "You dummy, you confessed to me yesterday" she said narrowing the gap between the two. "How about we enjoy becoming a couple with a kiss, but hey! no biting me." she suggested as she went in for a kiss.

[hai7ani]

CHERRY BLOSSOMS haitani rindou

sfw, nothing happens

home collection | playlist

part ii / i just want you to take me where your heart is.

Rindou is having trouble falling asleep.

He's got a 10 o'clock with the higher ups first thing in the morning. Rindou vividly remembers asking his direct supervisor, Kimura-san on what the meeting is about as soon as he was notified about it.

He’s thought it through -- there is no reason for them to want to see him personally (he’s sure he’s never given them one), nor does he remember doing anything that might have seem out of line, or perhaps appeared a little too out of place in the company. A meeting of only him with the higher ups? It's scary even for someone like Haitani Rindou to face.

"That's exactly it, Haitani. You've been a bit too out of place lately."

Fuck-

"And by that, I mean, you've been showing off brilliant work."

" . . . Excuse me?"

Kimura-san chuckles and brings a wrinkled hand up to pat his junior's back as they walk side by side together through the long corridor that leads to the break room. Rindou fixes his tie out of habit and holds a sealed envelope tight in his hand -- the paper almost crumpled -- as he brings himself together to listen to his senior's words.

"You've been doing great, Haitani. Awesome performance, extremely satisfying work and you're very punctual. Believe me, I'm glad I chose the right person to nominate for this promotion. I've been watching you ever since you started working here as a clerk, and I have to say, I'm proud of you, boy. You've been working hard every day for . . . How long has it been? Five months? Your dedication is worth congratulating. Keep it up, young man. And don't worry about the meeting, it's all part of the promotion process. You'll be fine."

Though Kimura-san's attempt at comforting him worked that day, it certainly failed miserably today. It's less than 7 hours to when he'll soon be standing in front of a conference room facing the Chief Executive and his subordinates, and he doesn’t know why.

What if it goes bad and it's not the kind of meeting that Kimura-san said it would be? What if they're there to tell me I'm rejected for the promotion? Or even worse, fired and-

Rindou suddenly hears a certain conversation of Ran and himself echoing in his head. The loud yet timid 16 year old Rindou and the childish and arrogant 17 year old Ran, that is.

"Keep up that long face and I'll smack you right square, bro. I've taught you better than this. Stop doubting everything and believe it'll go well instead. Determination pays off, you know."

"Idiot. You think everyone in the world is capable of chasing a girl their first time? Especially someone like me?"

"Why wouldn't they? Why wouldn’t you? Look, I've made sure that she likes you back. Shion even told her about how you'd waited 2 hours for her to get off work jus’ to walk her home the other day. Trust me, shitty brother, she's definitely into you too."

"Shion did what?" "You heard me."

"And about that, of course everyone is capable, because I did it." Ran proudly flashes a hardcopy of him and a girl hugging with a cheeky grin. The older boy never misses a chance at showing off, especially to his younger brother who is absolutely sick of him. Rindou moves closer to get a proper look and immediately recognises her as the girl in Ran’s class he’s been courting for months. They’re high school sweethearts now? Unbelievable.

He scoffs at the older boy, "you really did it, huh?"

There’s a certain warm and proud feeling swarming in Rindou’s chest as he gapes at the lovesick grin stuck on Ran’s stupid face. It’s what he deserves, Rindou thought. Ran’s been through hell and back trying to court this girl.

Neither young Ran nor young Rindou knows that in 15 years time, Rindou would be calling Ran's high school sweetheart his sister-in-law and stealing recipes and life hacks from.

"Fuck yeah, dude. So like I said, just do it now or you'll miss your chance and regret it for-fuckin'-ever. Also, just for your information, 'cause I'm Haitani Ran and I'm also your big bro and feel the extreme need to tell you," Ran nods his head to the direction behind Rindou. "There's a guy hitting up your missus at the counter."

Rindou has never snapped his head back so fast.

He sees a man who's about a year or two older than him holding a piece of paper and pen to you by the counter, his mouth moving a lot and you’re listening intently.

Rindou immediately regrets not learning how to lip read.

Though he is certain the man must have said something out of line because he sees you adjusting the collar of your uniform and you’re biting your lip nervously. He knows you by your habits and by looking at that, he's sure you’re feeling uncomfortable by the man’s presence. Rindou wants nothing more than to smack the sly smirk off the man’s face right away, so he stands up.

He'll win this fight.

The loud creak of the wooden chair sliding against the marble floor catches your attention and you shake your head at him with a frown.

I’m fine.

Rindou understands that much from your eyes and sits back down again, with Ran who has an arm hooked behind the chair observing he situation with an amused smirk.

The idiot lives for chaos. "Maybe this'll teach him a lesson." Ran murmurs beneath his breath as he observes how Rindou's leg is bouncing anxiously against the marble beneath his shoe, watching you and the man like a hawk.

You have a soft smile plastered on your lips as you bow at him politely, rejecting his advances.

"I'm sorry, sir . . .

But I already have someone."

Lovestruck Rindou witnesses your pretty little face look away from the man to him. You with the pretty glint in your eyes, staring deep into his surprised purple ones and him who is now a blushing mess as he fakes a cough and push his round metal glasses higher onto his nose. You see his reaction and it almost makes you giggle but you remain collected as you try to get the man in front of you to leave the store, telling him you're not interested and you have to get back to work.

And it's when he finally does, all beat and ruined, when Rindou's legs moves over to the counter -- to you -- almost automatically. He stands in front of you and suddenly it’s blank in his mind. His mouth is ajar as he tries to remember what he's came here to say.

(Rindou to this day still argues and swears it was your overwhelming presence and especially your pretty smile that's made him forget his words while he fiddled with the hem of his black turtleneck like a damn loser.)

Come up with something, you idiot. Quick.

"Rindou-kun?" Oh, good fucking gracious. That voice. The sweet voice that will be the absolute end of him.

He musters up everything in him to speak.

" . . . D'ya wanna go out with me? For lunch tomorrow. I’ll pick you up and we’ll go together. Anywhere you want . . . As boyfriend and girlfriend, that is."

You're silent for a minute, and Rindou feels his heart race. It’s hot and humid all of a sudden and he feels like digging a hole and jumping right into it and he doesn't dare look at you and he’s afraid of what's to come. But you call for him again.

"Rindou-kun, please look at me."

The boy wipes his sweaty palms on the dark denim of his Levi’s 501 and chews on his lip. He's so nervous he's certain his mother would be making fun of him when she finds out. Unlike his brother, he’s never been good with girls and has never gone to this extent at courting one. Hell, he’s not even sure if he’s been this nervous before. He’s done loads of illegal things, almost landed his ass in juvie multiple times, fought countless of gangs (both big and small), and none of them could compare to what you’re making him feel right now.

You've got a very, very wide smile ready for him when he finally looks up.

“Ask me again, Rindou."

Get yourself together, prick. Be fair to her.

“Do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

.

.

.

"Okay."

Rindou thought he’d ascended into heaven.

Today, the same young boy who is now 31 in age and an expecting father, grins at the memory. He's glad he took Ran's advice the other day. As stupid as his older brother can be sometimes, Rindou cannot deny that Ran is always helpful when he needs to be. Always there for him. Otherwise, he wouldn't be having your worn out figure sleeping beside him in your shared bed, the beautiful band on your ring finger shining brightly at him as the moonlight shines in through the curtains he’s forgotten to shut before bed.

He stares at you as you sleep peacefully; the steady rise and fall of your chest indicating that you're feeling comfortable again. It's been difficult for you to fall asleep these days, the kicking getting harder and more frequent.

"She's so impatient to come out." You pout sleepily at the father of your child as you place a hand on your bump and rubbing slow circles, trying to get her to calm down in your belly. "Just another month left, my baby."

He eyes your stomach and leans down to press a soft kiss to the skin, suddenly feeling a kick to his lips and he airily chuckles. It’s almost like the baby in your stomach recognises him . . .

Her father.

"Don't kick your mom so much, girl. Be nice to her." Rindou tells his kid in his heart.

Another kick.

Brat.

You start stirring in your sleep. Shit. You're waking up after finally falling asleep and it's all because of the father and daughter that's ganging up on you. Talking together behind your back. Destroying your sleep.

Absolutely foul.

There's a frown on your face as you move around beneath the blanket, trying to get comfortable again when your husband runs his calloused thumb over the crease between your eyebrows, gently coaxing you back to dreamland.

It's then Rindou hears it another time.

"Stop doubting everything and believe it'll go well instead. Determination pays off, you know."

He reminds himself to give Ran a call when he wakes up.

Rindou has survived the 10 o'clock. It is now 12pm in the afternoon and he's standing in the middle of a fairly new and empty office room with a woman in her early fifties who he recognises as the Operations Manager, Hasegawa Keiko. Everyone calls her Hasegawa-san despite her constant reassurance that simply calling her Keiko is fine.

Rindou directly reports to her now instead of old Kimura. Although being congratulated and trusted deeply by the company, he still feels a bit strange, standing in an office room two floors above his previous one that now has a floor to ceiling view of Tokyo city. He's also been introduced to many new faces that he'll be working with from now on. No more shitty Ito flirting with Ishikawa-san in public and harassing him on going out for drinks or the really irritating habit of the woman clacking her nails on the desk opposite of him, but he supposes he'll adapt sooner or later. He will; Ran told him that he'll be just fine earlier on the phone. He believes in his brother (and you) more than anyone in the world.

"This will be your new office from now on. Feel free to take some time and explore around, make yourself feel comfortable with the environment and so on. And as always, you can ask me if you're unsure about anything. I'll be in my office most of the time down the hall if you have any further questions." The corners of Hasegawa-san's eyes crinkles and Rindou instantly feels more at ease at her warm welcoming. She reminds him a bit of his late mother.

"I'll leave you to it now. Looking forward to working with you, Haitani-san." And with that, she shuts the door behind her, leaving him alone inside.

The silence is overwhelming.

Rindou immediately fishes out his phone in the pocket, dials in the familiar digits he's long memorised and presses the gadget to his ear.

You pick up after the third ring.

"Baby? How'd it go? Are you okay?" He smiles giddily as he pictures the worried expression on your face and you’re probably sitting on the couch watching TV.

(Everything he’d pictured is exactly what you’re doing, by the way. You've also just finished two bowls of plain white rice fresh from the pot without yourself knowing due to how anxious you felt on behalf of him.)

Your husband simply brushes you off. "Whatcha doin'? Are you eating?”

"Answer my question, Haitani!" He laughs at your tone, "take a guess, babe."

"Well, I’on fuckin' know! That's why I'm asking you.”

He thinks of how to put his words into a statement without sounding too overly happy.

"I've got it, you know.”

You have big, red question marks hanging on top of your head as you wait for him to continue on the other line.

"The promotion . . . I've got it."

Rindou spends his lunch break on the terrace talking to you on the phone. He’s eating the bento you prepared this morning before he left for work. "Finish it, 'kay? The broccoli is expensive." You nagged, knowing how much he despises the said vegetable, but it's included in the new diet he's been keen on trying so he's fine with it. He has you to keep him on track, after all.

He picks up the miserable vegetable with his chopsticks and pushes it into his mouth. Jesus- He closes his eyes as he forces it down the throat.

"Fuck, this is so painful." He coughs when he finally swallows it. You hum from the other line, "what is?"

"The broccoli. Fuckin' hell."

"Sucks to be you. Broccoli's so delicious I don't understand why anyone even hates it. You're weird. Rin."

"Says the person who doesn't eat egg whites."

"Egg whites' got no taste. It should be inedible. It's disgusting."

"And I'm the weird one."

Rindou's been so immersed in talking to you that he doesn't hear the door to the terrace opening and closing. He thought it was just him there, considering everyone else has already went out for lunch and some still remained in their respective offices finishing up paperwork.

He doesn't hear the click of a lighter and cigarette paper burning behind him as he continues to bicker with you on the speaker about why egg whites are delicious and broccolis are not.

"Anyway, I've had 'nuff. I'll be confiscating your watch-Gilmore Girls-with-me rights tonight if you don't finish your broccoli. Your daughter agrees wit' me."

"You know damn well I never miss an episode.”

"Sure, we'll see. I've got clothes to fold now, mostly yours. Bye, weirdo."

"Have I told'cha how noisy you are, mama?" He complains and you laugh and hang up after Rindou reminding you for the third time to take your daily vitamins and wear your grippy socks. That's when the eavesdropper decides to make their presence known.

Rindou nearly chokes on his food when he hears a deep voice speaking behind him. "Your wife?"

He turns around with a mouthful of rice as he takes in the situation. Oh, it's him.

The man who he recognises as Sakoda-san is sitting on a chair with his hands tucked into his pockets, a burning cigarette hanging from his lips.

The same guy who frequents a whorehouse all the way in Kabukichō. Yeah, that one. The one who keeps a polaroid of his children in his wallet on the bedside table while he fucks other women in their rooms, telling them he loves them when he doesn't even mean it.

Saying things for the sake of saying it; Rindou doesn't like that.

He decides to keep his distance as he swiftly finishes the food in his mouth. Of course, he didn't forget his manners.

"Yeah, my wife."

Sakoda-san observes Rindou from the corner of his eyes. How the young man is feeding himself spoon after spoon of the bento, especially the broccoli while he scrolls through his phone, catching up on the latest news and watching random videos that appear on his feed.

"How far along is she?"

Rindou doesn't feel like replying. He's always been a private man who keeps matters to himself, but he thinks it's not fair to the baby in your stomach, his daughter, who he feels her existence should be made known. She's not a secret and shouldn't be kept as one.

"Roughly 8 months. She's due in September."

"A girl?" "Yeah." "What's her name?" "Sakiya." "Sakiya for cherry blossom?" "Yeah." "Your wife picked it?" "We picked it."

Okay, he decides this is as far as he'll go. He starts clipping on the lid of the bento and wiping his mouth with a napkin, ready to leave the terrace (of course he doesn't make it obvious) but Sakoda-san speaks again.

"That's nice. I have a girl too. She's 11 this year. And also a boy who's turning 6." Rindou simply nods and wraps up the bento in the fancy cloth you bought at a bazaar in Harajuku. "Would you like to see a photo of them?"

He stops moving. Rindou thinks of all the options, and the one he feels like picking the most is saying no and leaving.

But he shouldn't be cruel. As much as the man he's talking to is a bad person, a bad father, a bad husband, the children have done nothing wrong. He shouldn't be cruel. It's just an innocent picture of two young children.

"Sure." He agrees out of courtesy and Sakoda-san instantly slips out the polaroid from his wallet and hands it to him. Rindou takes and looks at it carefully. They don't look too happy in it.

"I always keep this with me. Gives me a little push in life, you know?"

A little push? To do all those things to his family?

Rindou is instantly reminded of the many ultrasounds of his daughter attached on the fridge with cute bunny magnets that he glances at every day when grabbing milk from the fridge before leaving for work. He figures that a little push in life contains different meanings to both him and Sakoda-san. It makes him feel sick to the core.

"Nice photo." He hands it back to the man after he finishes looking and stands. Rindou grabs the bento by the handle and is ready to leave, when Sakoda-san stops him once again.

"How good of a drinker are you?"

"I don't drink." Liar. He was fucking Haitani Rindou of Roppongi, for fuck's sake.

"Smoke?"

"I quit."

"Why?"

"Wife's pregnant."

The older man laughs at his blunt responses.

"Your life must be pretty boring, huh?"

Rindou doesn't look back at him when he mutters these words.

"At least I am not you."

It is now past lunch break and back to working hours that Rindou finds himself standing outside of Hasegawa-san's office. He has been for the past few minutes now, actually. Thinking about what to say and what to do; if she’ll approve of him or get pissed off.

He doesn't have the courage to go in.

Rindou had contemplated on keeping the topic away from his boss for now and simply bring it up another time, but he knows that it's not possible; it's only a short time away to when you're due and it’s also not fair to you either.

Finally, after making up his mind, he musters up all the courage in him to knock on the door. He waits for the faint come in and twists the knob.

"I was wondering when you'd come in."

Shit, it was that obvious?

Hasegawa-san closes the file she was working on and leans back in her chair while gesturing to the one in front of her desk. "Have a seat, Haitani-san." He immediately follows with a creak echoing in the room, not wanting to waste more time than he already has.

"You're nervous." It's not a question, it's a statement. And Rindou knows it as he feels himself growing hot and he coughs and sits up straight. "Sorry."

"What is it you're here for?" Hasegawa-san breaks the silence first. Rindou looks down at the half crumpled envelope in his hand, thinking a little before laying it flat on her table and pushing it forward with the letters on it facing her.

She stares at the envelope before swiftly opening it up to read. Rindou watches intently as her eyes go over the letter word by word, before finally folding the paper back to it's original form and laying it down on her desk.

You don't know about this, Rindou reminds himself as he waits patiently for Hasegawa-san to process his letter. You don't know about this, so he has to be serious. He has to be straightforward and sure. He can't be leaving you alone at this time because he doesn't have the balls to request for something that will mean the world to you.

The woman leans on her elbows and looks at him with an unreadable expression. He can't tell what’s going through her mind right now. Is it good or bad? Oh, she's squinting her eyes now. Do I need to say something? Fuck, this is so confusing.

"So, according to your letter, you will be away for . . . 2 months? That's a pretty long time. And it's your first day in this department."

The atmosphere is intense.

Thinking that he needs to speak up, Rindou pulls himself together and starts explaining to his boss.

"I know it may seem unacceptable, considering that I am just only in charge of this position. I am also aware that there will be no one to take over my duties when I'm away due to a short of hands, but my family is important and-"

"-tell me, Rindou." She cuts him off with a stern look. "How much does your wife matter to you?"

He doesn't hesitate in answering. It's immediate. Quick. Determined. Sure.

"Everything."

The tension in Hasegawa-san’s face loosens and she smiles. "Then there's no reason to further explain yourself. It’s all written clearly in your letter and letting you go to be with her is what a decent human being should do.” She pauses, “I wish my husband did that for me as well. I'm a woman too, so I know how it must feel to want her husband with her at this period of time.”

To say Rindou is shocked is an understatement. A higher up that doesn't ask questions? Doesn't make you wonder if your decision was right or wrong? Doesn't shame you for having different priorities?

No. It's not because she's being soft. It’s not because she’s biased. It's not because she doesn't care.

It's because she understands.

"I wish for her a safe delivery. Is it a boy or a girl?"

"A girl."

"How nice. I have three sons myself, I wish I had a girl too, to accompany me and so on. Boys grow up a lot faster than girls do." She laughs.

Rindou places both his hands on his knees as he lets out a breath of relief. Other than the meeting earlier today, letting his boss know that he will need to take some time off is also what's been clouding his mind for the entire week.

Your due date has clashed with the moment his work became much more serious and now he has to pick between the two: to stay with work and continue to fulfil his new duties and responsibilities while pouring his heart and soul into his shitty company or to stay at home and take care of you when everyone else is busy taking care of the baby.

And the answer is clear, actually. He'll never let anything, especially work, get between him and his family, and he's never let himself be placed in a position where he feels obliged to choose between the two. If he is, then you and the baby will always come first, no matter what, and he'll quit his job if he has to.

Letting Hasegawa-san know about this is just for him to find out if he has to quit his job to stay with you or not.

And luckily, he doesn't have to. Because Hasegawa-san is an angel in disguise and he feels so terribly relieved. God, he misses you so much. He really wants to go home and kiss you right now.

"You can go now. I'll sort things out with HR. You should take the rest of the day off, too. Go celebrate with your wife and spend some time with her. And please don't worry about work, I'll have a substitute soon for your position."

"Thank you, Hasegawa-san."

"You're welcome, and Keiko is fine. You remind me a lot of my second boy, by the way."

And you remind me of my mother.

"I'll see you soon, son. Take good care of your wife, yeah?"

"I will, Keiko-san."

You are in the midst of hanging up his clothes in the closet when Rindou arrives home.

"ただいま."

"Huh? Why are you home at this hour?"

He kisses your forehead and takes the hanger from your hand. He tells you to sit down and you listen and . . . Great. He's taken charge of hanging his own clothes now.

Rindou is always doing the chores whenever he can now that you're too pregnant to move around even when you insist to him that you can do it. "I like to move around, Rin. 'Don't like to sit around 'n daydream all day, it's boring."

"Boss' let me off early." He states nonchalantly and you raise a brow. You see your husband organising his clothes by colour and you suddenly feel some kind of warmth blossoming in your chest. Much to you and his brother's demise, Rindou used to be the kind of person who doesn't hang his clothes and just throws it in his closet when he's done with the laundry but that changed drastically when he met you. You always nagged at him to hang them up and sort it out by colour, by shirt category, so it'll look more organised and neat when he opens the closet.

"Why?" "I'll tell you later." "Why can't you tell me now?" "It's a surprise." "Huh?"

You're so confused.

Rindou is facing you now. "Have you showered?" You shake your head and remove the claw clip from your hair, scratching at your scalp. "Not yet. I needa' wash my hair, though. It's kinda itchy."

"I'll wash for you." He leads you to the bathroom slowly and helps you into the shower when you both are stripped off your clothes.

You're standing on the non-slip mat and adjusting the water temperature when Rindou joins you in the shower. "I'll take you out tonight. What'chu feel like eating?" He rinses through your body and you hum softly as he starts lathering shampoo on your hair. "Dunno, but I don't feel like eating something spicy, though."

"You want western?" You let out a sigh when he scratches at the itchy spot just above your ear, "sure."

The both of you don't speak after that, choosing to relish in the comfort of the warm water running down your bodies but you're suddenly reminded of it. Cheers to him for managing to butter you up successfully.

"Are you gonna tell me why you're home early?"

"'Told'cha, boss' let me off early." "Yeah, but why?" "I'll tell you over dinner." "You're pissing me off, Rin. Tell me now."

Okay, you're getting mad.

He's grown used to your mood swings over the course of this pregnancy and after so long, he's figured that the best way to deal with it is just by simply accepting it. It'll go away eventually and he should be patient with you and your emotions. After all, it's harder on you.

But he can't deny that it's a bit funny, though. You're getting mad at him because he won't tell you the actual reason he's home early while he's busy washing your hair yet you're purring whenever he scratches at a certain spot on your scalp.

"I got some time off. You know, when you give birth then I'll get to be home 'n take care of you 'n 'Kiya."

"Oh, so you're a romantic."

"Of course."

You feel so happy after listening to him that you turn around (slowly) and pull him down for a quick smooch. "Here's one from 'Kiya." And you kiss him harder this time, "'n one from me."

Rindou is dumbfounded when he looks at you who has literal hearts in your eyes as you hold his face in your hands like he's fragile porcelain, like he's some fine china. You run your thumbs over his cheekbones and pinch his cheeks.

(Doing that made you remember the times you liked to pinch his chubbier ones when you were still teenagers.)

"'Love you."

You with soapsuds in your hair proclaiming your love to your husband for the nth time over the course of 15 years (before and after marriage) and him with his fingers tangled in your hair as he continues scrubbing.

He smirks handsomely, "you tryna skimp out on the kisses, mama? I know my daughter ain't so stingy with 'em," he removes his hands to touch on your bump, "gimme one more, baby."

A kick.

"She jus' said no."

"She said yes, you brat."

You hold him by the neck and softly inhale the scent of his musky body wash that you've grown to find comfort in. He's so endearing that you don't want to let go.

You never want to let go of him.

Rindou lands two strong and assuring hands on your waist and keeps you close to his body.

"Quit sniffin' me, I still need to wash your hair."

You suck on his neck and he squeezes your ass in return. It's nothing sexual or anything, you just like sucking on his neck randomly and Rindou never passes up the chance to grip on your fat.

Some of the foam from your hair has gotten to his face and he simply washes it off with water, though you still don't let go of him.

"Never change your body wash, babe."

"I know . . . You tell me that every day."

Rindou is helping you pick out your outfit as you sit by the dresser doing your makeup. He's holding two dresses in his hands,

"Do you wanna wear this?”

Option A: a long red floral one that he bought for you while away at a business trip in Kyoto. He saw it while passing by and immediately stopped the car to cop it from the old lady. It wasn't for a special occasion or anything, he'd just seen it and felt like buying it for you and you haven’t got the chance to wear it until today.

"Or this?"

Option B: a shorter navy blue sundress that is obviously a little too tight and small for you right now.

“Baby, please. You know I can’t fit in that.” “I know. ‘Was just foolin’ wit’ ya.” “I’ll bite you.” “Go 'head.”

He lays the red dress down flat on your bed and plops down beside it, waiting for you to get ready. “I’m still halfway done wit’ the nursery. I’ll have more time to work on it now that I’m home.” Rindou says and you finish clipping on your right earring. “It’s just the crib and rocking chair left now, right?” You’re referring to the unfinished pieces of furniture that’s sitting in the nursery room next door and he hums as a response.

"Are we finished buying Sakiya's stuff? We can get the remaining later when we’re out. Settle it sooner, you know?"

“No, we’re finished. Ran ‘n Miwa have already bought tons for us.” You think of your sister-in-law who seems more excited for Sakiya's arrival than you, constantly buying you gifts like clothes and toys for the baby whenever she and Ran comes over for dinner together. “Auntie Miwa and Uncle Ran are so excited to see you, girl.” Miwa squeals as she touches your baby bump, feeling a soft kick to her palm.

“Ran is helping us save money now?” You laugh at his joke, “he seems enthusiastic to do so.”

In another city all the way in Ikebukuro is Ran in his home office sneezing with Miwa standing behind him massaging his back. “You’ve got a cold too? Everyone around me is getting a cold and it isn’t even flu season. I’ll have to stay away from you now, Ran. I don’t like getting sick.” She blabbers along and Ran simply hushes her down with a hand to her mouth. Miwa licks it and he retracts his hand away with a scowl, “you’re nasty, love. And you talk too much.” Miwa places a hand on her hip as she looks down at her husband like a mother scolding her son, “I’m not the one sneezing and at a risk of falling sick.” “It’s just Rindou talkin’ ‘bout me, wifey. I know it, I can feel it.”

Back home in Ueno is Rindou sneezing again. “Stupid Ran, he talkin’ ‘bout me too? Asshole.” “Huh?”

Neither Ran nor Rindou stops sneezing for the next five minutes and you and Miwa are left confused, wondering about just how strong these two brothers’ telepathy senses are.

You are actively ignoring your husband’s mumbling and cursing about stupid Ran this, stupid Ran that while combing your hair and Miwa isn’t even in the room with Ran anymore.

“Stop sneezing, Rin.” “Then tell Ran to stop talkin’ ‘bout me.” “Shaddap, you’re just makin’ things up.” “‘M not.”

While blowing his nose on a tissue you handed him, Rindou hears you humming along to a song playing on the radio and he instantly feels at peace.

He's home, you're sitting pretty on the stool, you'll be enjoying Western food together at a fancy restaurant downtown later tonight, and Sakiya will be here anytime soon.

Everything is calm and fine,

and Rindou thinks he will never be giving up this serenity for the world. He'll burn it up if he has to; if it guarantees his family forever peace and happiness.

There can only be his family.

His love. His heart.

reblogs are appreciated & i hope you guys enjoyed this! ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

ending is a bit rushed cus idk anymore he's successfully rotted my brain and i have fallen onto my knees for this man

[mylahrins]

smile for the camera

09. crush! a/n: to avoid confusion, this is a flashback chapter. a blast to the past, to when y/n and atsumu were in highschool.

it had been one week.

it had been one whole week since atsumu miya had unknowingly broken your heart.

you were first years in high school and had been dating since the start of junior high, up until last week. you had convinced yourself that it was a mutual breakup—after all that's what you led atsumu to believe. you could only hope that with time, your feelings would fade on their own.

he had his sights set on volleyball, and you were still unsure of your future.

your family was loaded, meaning you could live comfortably with ease. yet, part of you yearned for something more—to make something of yourself. so for the sake of your futures, you two broke up but agreed to stay friends.

still, you did not expect this.

here he sat, on your couch, crying in your arms about the practice match inarizaki just lost. usually, he wouldn't be too affected, he'd brush off this loss and jokingly blame it on his brother. This time, however, his performance was really bad, like beyond bad. he could hardly set, and when he did—his tosses were off course or just plain shitty. all the serves he worked hard to hone either hit the net or were out of bounds. at one point, it was so bad they had to switch him out. how could he be expected to play as a setter for nationals, if he couldn't even play in a measly practice match?

"does samu know you're here?" you asked, rubbing his back as he continued to sob. at first, he doesn't reply. instead, he calms himself down to take a sip of water from the glass you placed for him.

"i'm sorry y/n." he starts, "i just didn't know where else to go." he then chugs the rest of the water down. "if i went home, seeing samu would probably make me feel shittier."

"im sure he wouldn't make fun of you tsumu, he's not like that," you assure, taking the empty glass from his hands.

"i know he wouldn't, it's just.." the breath he takes is unsteady, "he did really well, like way better than me. i played like absolute garbage today. they switched me out, and samu stayed in." he wipes his eyes dry with the collar of his t-shirt, "they even had him try playing setter for a bit—and he was good!" he yells, exasperated.

ah, this was rare. it's not that you've never seen atsumu vulnerable, he's cried to you many times before, but this was something you've rarely heard; atsumu miya was crying about envy.

moments like these are difficult, having to find the right words to say and all. even after knowing him for so long, it's hard to figure out what he exactly needs, or even wants to hear.

so, instead of speaking, you just hold him tight. out of habit, you place a kiss on the top of his head, not necessarily as a romantic gesture, but as a familiar way to comfort him. neither of you comment on it, but atsumu's hold on you tightens.

and it's now that you realize that perhaps even after the breakup, even if you go your separate ways after high school—even if one day your feelings for atsumu fade away, you'll never be able to forget the love you had—or have for him.

after what feels like forever, atsumu lets go of you and wipes whatever was left of his tears.

"thank you."

although separated from the hug, he still takes your hand to hold, and you let him. you don't say anything as he uses your tv remote to flip through the channels. he eventually settles on a movie that's already halfway done.

even after the movie's over, and atsumu's deep asleep on your couch, you're holding his hand. even as you struggle to text osamu with one hand that his brother sleeping over, you don't let go.

you sit in the darkness of the living room, lit up only by the quiet tv, thinking about how you will probably never get over atsumu miya.

fun facts!:

➤ y/n met the hyogo boys (tsumu, samu, and suna) when they were waaaay young. she became friends with rin first because their grandparents are bffs. ➤ when they were in junior high, atsumu confessed first because samu made him (he was tired of hearing him whine abt y/n). ➤ due to y/n parent's workload, being busy making money and all, they decided it'd be best to have y/n live with her grandparents in hyogo, so she could be guaranteed a household of love. though, that's not to say she never see's her parents, she always visits them in tokyo during summer and occasional school breaks (spring/winter/fall). ➤ when y/n was gone, suna would hang out at her grandparent's house to keep them company... also free food. ➤ suna has invited his friends to y/n's grandparent's house before. ➤ atsumu thought the breakup was mutual because y/n barely reacted. she even fistbumped him while telling him it was alright. she called rin later that night and cried to him about the breakup.

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[wilders-girl]

Lifeline

Matthew Murdock x Gn! Reader

Angst, hurt (no comfort), one-sided but not rly, real shit :'(

Mentions of relationship and mental health struggles, mild cursing, unhealthy coping mechanisms, possible violence mentions

906 words (short one, sorry guys)

Wrote this like, a year or two ago, fw the idea so heavy I edited and revised it for 3 nights 🔥 shout-out to the 3 Matt murdock fans left 🗣 please enjoy 🩷

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

He wasn’t just hurt this time, he was sick.

The one thing worse than having a beaten body was being beaten up on the inside, too.

“I’m fine, really. You don’t have to go through all this work.” Matt sniffled.

All I could do was sigh and shake my head, continuing to whisk the rice to make the porridge come together quicker.

“It’s ready.” I spoke after tasting the seasoning.

I brought the bowl over to his crumpled body that lay on the couch.

“If you stay here, you’ll get sick too.” Matt complained.

“Yeah, but if I don’t, then you’ll go out and fight again.

“I’m just trying to help this city.”

“At your own expense?” My brows furrowed in frustration. “If you die, no one will be here to save this city. What then, Matt? When will it end?”

He sighed, coughing. I wasn't going to get through to him in this state.

“Eat.” I handed him the bowl.

—

We’d been friends for a while now, Matt and I. We met through Foggy. I was friends with Foggy because we both had the same class, and then Junior year, all three of us had the same classes. I always had a slight crush on Matt, but nothing ever came of it due in part to my cowardice and Matt's popularity with women. Foggy tried to get us together multiple times, bless his heart. It never seemed to work out, though. Especially after Elektra. I couldn't find it in me to hate her, but I did think she changed Matt for the worse. Who knows, though. Maybe he'd always been that way; self-sabotaging, conflicted, and broken.

Now, Matt lives in the same apartment complex as me. Law school didn’t end up working out for me, but I see him almost daily anyway. I found out his “little” secret shortly after he told Foggy, apparently. After some arguing about why the hell he'd do this to himself, he finally agreed to let me take care of him when he was hurt as a compromise.

“How is it?” I asked softly.

“It’s good.” He responded plainly. “Is there chicken in here?”

“Yep. It’s good for sick people, you know.”

“Thanks.” He smiled at me.

I knew he appreciated the things I did, whether he liked to admit it or not. He needed someone, and I was there for him. I wanted to be there for him in all the ways he needed, but I knew he wouldn’t want me like how I wanted him.

The thought had me staring out the window with an empty look on my face.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, slurping the rest of the porridge down.

There was no use lying to him.

“I’m overthinking.” I looked out the window at the rain again.

“About what?” He sniffed.

“It’s not important.” I replied, walking away to get a box of tissues for him.

He could never know how much I care about him.

I walked back, put the box on the table and sighed.

“I’m gonna go. If you need anything, just call. I’ll be there.”

“Because no matter what you do, I’ll still love you,” is what I wanted to say.

I grabbed my hoodie off the couch he sat on and turned to leave.

“Wait,” He called out as I was about to turn the doorknob. “Please. I want to know. I want to help you.”

“You can’t do that, Matt. You wouldn't understand. Plus, I’m here to help you, not the other way around.”

There was a suffocating silence for a couple seconds.

“Then help me understand. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I think you already know.” I shook my head. “You and I both know it’ll never work out. I can’t be part of your world.”

“You don’t know that.” He mumbled.

“Yeah,” I nodded, tears pooling in my eyes. “I do.”

I gestured to his pathetic form on the couch. His skin littered with cuts, bruises, deeper gashes and welts; his breathing labored and ragged from illness.

“I think I know better than anyone else, Matt.”

He looked at me with despair in his sightless eyes.

I couldn’t bear to look any longer. Even if he wanted me, even if we tried to make things work, I knew it wouldn't end up well for one or either of us. He was the kind of man who didn't get a happy ending.

“Call if you need me.” I turned the rusty handle and left him.

I didn’t want a big white wedding, 3 kids and a white-picket fence life. I just wanted some stability. I wanted love– real love– love that lasted. The possibility of Matt dying any night he went out took that away, and it didn’t take long for me to figure out that it could happen any time.

The walk to my apartment was mindless. As I locked the door behind me, all I could do was let the tears fall. Maybe I’d go to Josie’s, take my chances at finding some piece of shit there, or let my mother find me a man to marry. Maybe finding love just wasn’t an option for me.

I walked to my bedroom and crawled into bed to try to sleep it away. At around 3:00 a.m. I got a text from Matt’s number.

“Can you come by? Bring gauze”

I guess he went out anyway.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

A/N: yall reading and writing this made me sad 😭 I wanted to write about the more realistic and depressing side of being with Matt, since I mostly like to imagine life is just peachy w him... Basically a slap to my own face and yalls too ig 💀

[lee1504]

"i fell in love the way you fall asleep; slowly, then all at once" - the fault in our stars, john green

(context: this is when they're a bit older, maybe juniors in HS)

Why did Tyler agree to let Aiden come to his house?

He could feel his eyes on him as he entered his and Taylor's shared room, kicking some of his clothes off his floor, clearing the room. He didn't know that Taylor would be with Ben, Logan and Ashlyn today. He didn't know that he would be by himself.

With Aiden.

He could hear Aiden shuffling around behind him. He felt self conscious. He knew Aiden was rich, and that his family was extremely wealthy, so what was the Hernandez house compared to his? A shed?

"Cool place," Aiden commented. He glanced at Tyler's bed, the bottom bunk. "Mind if I sit?"

Tyler shrugged in return. "I don't really care. Just don't make a mess."

"Okay."

Tyler watched as Aiden sat down, crossing his legs and setting his bag down next to him. He continued looking around, starting to ask questions.

"What's that?" Aiden pointed to the corkboard that hung over Taylor's mirror, with pictures pinned to the material.

"That's just Taylor's pictures. She likes taking them."

Aiden hopped off his bed, striding towards the board. He gently took one picture off, then examined it. "I remember this," he said. He held up the photo. Tyler blinked. "This was when we were using my pool, right?"

"Yeah. I remember that, too," Tyler said. He sat down at his desk chair, watching the other boy to make sure he wouldn't steal or take anything. Not that he would, he just wanted to make sure.

He found himself staring at Aiden's hair, the way it turned golden as sunlight bounced off of it through the window.

He quickly looked away before he could get caught. He cleared his throat, softly. How long was he going to stay, anyway?

"...Do you want anything to eat? Drink?" Tyler spoke up. Aiden was still looking at the pictures, but turned his head slightly, glancing at him.

"Do you have water?"

Tyler nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I do." He stood. "Uh...I'll go get some. Just don't-don't take anything. I'll be right back."

He left his room, entering their small kitchen. He pulled out a mismatched cup from one of the cabinets, then heading to the sink to fill it up.

He leaned against the opposite counter, watching. Even though his eyes was on the glass, his mind was on someone else.

Why did Aiden have to come to his house today? He looked so bright, out of place in Tyler's normally gloomy house, as if he was his own personal sun.

He was so obnoxious, too. Sitting on his bed, taking the pictures from his board...everything Aiden did seemed to be related to Tyler.

His face was warm. Was it warm in here? Tyler snapped back to reality, glancing st the water. He lurched towards the sink, quickly turning it off before the glass could overflow.

Why did Tyler always think about him?

Why was he always thinking about him?

He mumbled something under his breath as he took the cup back to his room, face still warm. He could hear Aiden speaking. Who was he talking to?

"I'm back. Here's your--" He froze, his hand on the doorknob. Aiden sat at Tyler's desk, books piled next to him at the table. His eyes widened slightly as more heat rushed to his face. Aiden didn't seem to notice though.

"You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams. Dr Seuss," Aiden said, reading from one if the pages. He closed the book, reaching for another. "I fell in love the way you fall asleep; slowly, then all at once. John Green." He glanced up, finally taking notice of Tyler.

"What are you doing?" Tyler asked, voice shaking slightly. He trembled slightly, making the glass of water in his hand shake. His eyes darted to the books, then back to Aiden's face. He could tell his own face was beet red.

"Some of these were open," Aiden replied, as if that was an actual answer. He wasn't smiling, but his eyes were bright, as usual. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Aiden smiled. It was soft, unlike the usual, almost unsettling ones he did. It looked strange on him. "You're blushing," he said.

Tyler scowled, quickly averting his eyes. He glared at the floor. "Whatever," he mumbled. His eyes drifted back to Aiden's rust-red ones. "Here." He walked forward, setting the glass on his desk before beginning to gather the books into his arms. "Don't snoop around my room, okay?" he muttered.

Even though his eyes were trained on the books, Tyler could still feel Aiden's eyes on him. He was strangely quiet.

"You're blushing."

Tyler's scowl deepened, as if that wasn't already obvious. He turned away, setting the books onto his bed.

"Stop watching me," Tyler grumbled.

Aiden ignored his words. "Why'd you highlight those phrases? Like, 'I fell in love the way you fall asleep' and stuff like that?"

Tyler hesitated. Was Aiden going to make fun of him? Or was he going to be serious for once?

"It...was a project," Tyler replied quietly. He wasn't sure if Aiden heard him. "Just...something I was working on..." He trailed off.

Aiden waited for a moment, before saying, "But why those phrases?"

Tyler stayed quiet. His eyes slowly went to Aiden, who was watching him.

He never realized how pretty a boy can be. His hair was golden, and his eyes were lit by the sunlight. He was still short, maybe a head or so shorter than him.

Tyler swallowed nervously. Taylor had been pestering him for the past weeks, asking him why he was acting weird around the others--and mostly Aiden. He remembered something she'd told him, about how maybe his feelings for Aiden weren't just friendly.

About how maybe Tyler might've had a crush on him.

Tyler swallowed nervously.

"it was just a project." He hesitated, then added, "Something for you."

Aiden's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "What?"

"A song," Tyler mumbled. "But whatever. It's nothing."

He felt something brush against his hand. Aiden's pinky touched Tyler's thumb, causing him to shiver slightly. He looked down at him.

"That's a bad idea," Aiden said, this time half-grinning. Tyler didn't know if he was joking or not. "You know I'm not a good person."

Tyler scoffed. "Of course you are. Everyone's a good person."

Aiden was quiet, then spoke again. "That's what you think." He looked up at Tyler, craning his head. "I like you."

Tyler wasn't sure he heard him right. "What?"

"I like you," Aiden said again. "Like, a lot." He paused, seeming to think for a moment. "I kind of want to kiss you."

Tyler's heart skipped a beat. "Wait--what are you talking about?"

"I want to kiss you," Aiden repeated. "Is that okay? Can I?"

Tyler's heart was thumping again. Maybe this time Aiden could hear it.

Maybe Taylor was right.

Maybe Tyler did have a crush on him.

"Okay," he said.

Aiden smiled. He leaned up on his toes, pressing his lips softly against Tyler's. His breath hitched. He could feel Aiden's hand cup his cheek.

Suddenly, Tyler understood what the passage from his book, The Fault in Our Stars, actually meant.

I fell in love--it didn't matter if he was in love, or if he just had a simple crush. He liked Aiden, and that was perfectly fine.

The way you fall asleep; slowly, then all at once--he didn't realize how long his feelings for Aiden had been buried underneath his heart, how long it had been hidden in his brain.

But now, with his lips pressed against the other boy's, he knew that he was all that mattered.

[kunikame]

like planets in orbit. - k. youichi

warnings : fem!reader, cussing, more astral references guys i cant stop., violence mention, lmk if i forgot anything, tooth rotting fluff, miyuki and ryou are presidents of kuramochi bully club (eijun is a honorary member), if the fandom is dead i will cry

w/c : 3.6k

kuramochi youichi has witnessed the ever changing inconsistencies life brings with it.

he's seen many people cry over jobs lost, family members gone, or friends who have left; he likes to think he's pretty observant and can tell when something is wrong with people, or get a clear read on their feelings before they know them themselves.

that skill, however, does not apply to himself. when it comes to his own emotions, he is, for lack of a better word, clueless. this, he comes to realize in his 2nd year of high school, after the devastating loss in the finals.

life brings with it many inconsistencies, junior high youichi notes.

most of the friends he had in his younger days he doesn't talk to anymore, some of his grades aren't as good as they used to be, and he himself has also changed over the years.

the one constant in his life– other than his family, however, were you (and his atrocious (your words, not his) yellow hair).

the young girl he met at the playground at the age of 4, when he accidentally ruined your sandcastle with a stray ball.

you didn't cry or scream, like any child would, instead you accepted his apology and got to work on rebuilding it all the while smiling softly. he couldn't deny he felt bad (it looked like it took a while to build, the castle was more of a palace with a town to accompany it), so he stuck around to help you instead.

that started the lifelong friendship between kuramochi youichi and [name].

you accompanied each other to 80% of the places you went, people started thinking of you as the "constantly bought in pair, do not separate" type of oddity around town. if youichi was in one place, there was a high possibility you were somewhere near, and likewise.

dating rumors started spreading at some point, but they were quickly shut down by both of you.

and yet.

when youichi started going around doing his 'punk stuff' and getting into fights, you were there to patch him up. who else would he go to? even though you tried stopping him, very nearly bashing his skull in with your words (stars forbid there be any weapons nearby lest you actually do it), he continued ignoring your efforts. if you were as worried as you said, you'd cry for him, wouldn't you? shed a tear or two? but you never did.

then he got scouted for seidou and you joined shortly after him, through the entrance exams. it's not that you were simply following him– seidou was actually one of your choices even before youichi got scouted, it was a lucky coincidence that you ended up together even in high school; but it was comforting knowing even in a different place with new faces and surroundings, there was still something that resembled home.

he joined the baseball team, and here, you admit, you followed after him– as a manager.

it wasn’t too hard to adjust to the managerial duties or the daily practice sessions, you’ve been helping youichi practice since the day you met him, and the way of the scorebooks was properly explained to you by your fellow managers– thank the universe for them, seriously. the only thing you were having slight trouble with was the fact youichi didn’t seem to be doing too well at the start. 

with what was left of his previously-bad-reputation in his system, you were afraid he would pick fights he couldn’t possibly win. all of the 2nd years are so tall and strong– with the exception of kominato– and youichi was.. well, for lack of a better word, a twig. yeah, he picked fights in junior high, and he actually won most of them, but junior high kids are still just that. these are middle schoolers who’ve been on an extremely strict baseball training regimen, which youichi has just started. with his aching muscles and exhaustion, he really would get his ass beat. 

so you continued watching over him, from the sidelines this time.

(and, yes, watching over him entailed taking care of him also. it was like second nature– to listen to him complain about minor setbacks, to study up on massage techniques so he can get some relief from his aching muscles because he's youichi and you’re you, to patch up his wounds. all of it was like second nature. you cared for him and in turn, he cared for you.)

wherever youichi went, so did you. wherever you went, so did youichi. 

those were facts– laws known by almost everyone the pair of you acquainted yourselves with, mostly the baseball club and your families, but those 2 are almost the same thing, if you were being honest.

the facts you were well aware were true continued to be proven time and time again, even more so when neither of you went to nationals.

which you think would be obvious with how you were the team's manager, so if the team didn’t go, neither did you– not as anyone important, anyway.

at the first lost chance, you didn’t cry. you didn’t just shrug and move on either, you simply took a deep breath and with the words, “maybe next year” you smiled at your seniors and friends and left the stands.

that night you headed out to the seidou baseball grounds alone.

in the lone serenity under the stars, you sat on the mound and cried.

not for the loss that could’ve been a win, not for losing the chance to go to nationals and experience the thrill, but for the 3rd years who lost their final chance.

but wherever you go, youichi goes– and on that cloudless night where he first saw you cry, he promised you he would take you to nationals.

you, in turn, promised to tell him a secret when he does.

he thinks if you smile at him like that again, he might just do anything you ever ask him to.

it is in his (and your) second year of high school when kuramochi youichi has a realization, one he can’t simply shrug off.

mundane things concerning you and him that used to be normal and done without a second thought now had his hands shaking ever so slightly, his heart rate spiking, and his cheeks feeling just a tad warmer.

which would all be okay and simply shrugged off, had it not been for sawamura and miyuki, the bastard duo (and ryousuke, purely because he enjoys bullying youchi).

“so, have you finally admitted your crush to yourself? or are you, perhaps, still in denial?”

for how much miyuki claims to hate having people in his business, he himself sure loves to poke into others. youichi feels his eye twitch.

“what–”

“what crush are you talking about, miyuki kazuya?!”

great. now the other one’s here too. and you seem to have noticed the commotion, since you’re turning his way (he wouldn’t have noticed, had he not been staring at you this entire time) with an eyebrow raised in question. youichi does an exaggerated eye roll while tilting his head towards both annoyances at his sides, and with a giggle you turn back to furuya.

“why, didn’t you know? our dear kuramochi has a–”

“aaand that’s where i’ll cut ya off,” youichi said, slapping his hand on the brunet's mouth, “i don’t have a crush on anyone.”

“but, kuramochi-senpai, you’ve been staring at [name]-senpai for the past 5 minutes. i’m pretty sure you didn’t even blink!”

now his other eye is twitching. he thinks he can actually feel the vein in his forehead bulging the more sawamoron continues speaking.

“i was not!”

“were too, we all saw,” his pink haired senior said, appearing seemingly out of nowhere, his intentions written all over his face clear as day.

“i wa– okay, since you’re not gonna listen to me anyway, i’ll just prove there’s nothing between us. on either side. never was, never will be,” said youichi, getting up from his spot on the bench, which had sawamura falling over as he was leaning all his body weight on the green haired shortstop.

he makes his way over to you with an easy goal in mind: have a calm and collected conversation, without triggering his (seemingly) symptoms of illness so he doesn’t worry you, turn around and leave.

question is, what is he gonna talk to you about? conversations with you usually flow naturally, but for the first time ever, youichi finds himself nervous at the prospect of talking to you. his frustrated fast paced steps gradually slow down the closer he gets to you, contrary to his thoughts which are speeding up– he finds himself unable to keep up with his thought process for the first time ever in your presence. 

and he doesn’t know why. 

for the first time since he befriended you, he realizes the mere thought of you renders him unable to think properly.

sensing his presence you turn his way and his thoughts come to an abrupt stop. all he hears is white noise– like his brain got unplugged and it’s showing one of those black and white static screens– until you utter his name.

“youichi! i was just about to go over there to check what the commotion was about. I’m pretty sure i heard eijun ask about a crush or something. does he like someone?”

why do you want to know whether the first year moron has a crush or not? “him? nah. i don’t think he has the brain capacity to pull someone,” he says offhandedly, a little late to realize you took a liking to his roommate.

“youichi!” you repeat, though angrier than when you greeted him, “don’t say that! he’s just a guy. i think he could be a good boyfriend to someone. he’s nice.”

he finds his frustration growing at that, and still, he doesn’t know why. then you seem to notice something behind him because suddenly you’re grinning and waving. when he turns his head he finds it’s the previously mentioned first year and tanuki bastard and his blood boils– he tries, really, he does, to not let his thoughts bleed through his expression, but with the way miyukis smirk widens a tad, he believes he might have fucked up.

“anyway, what did you need?”

“huh– oh, i was just wondering if you needed help with anything, since you were just standing around here,” he internally apologizes for lying through his teeth, but he can’t have you finding out the real reason.

“mm, not really. jun-san did most of the heavy lifting we needed done already, so unless you wanna stay late to help us collect the balls, nothing much.”

“ah, alright. i’ll stay to help, then. i’d hate it if our poor managers did all the hard work.”

“now you’re just making fun of me.”

“me? why, i would never, who do you take me for? miyuki?”

“you’re even worse than kazuya.”

this is okay, youichi thinks. this is how it’s been for the past 13 years, this is how it should be. friendly banter. you bully him, he bullies you, you take care of him, he takes care of you. that’s how it’s always been.

he chooses to ignore the slight shake in his hands and the sudden warmth on his cheeks.

the next day you’re not in class and his only conversation partner (read: professional bother) is miyuki kazuya. which isn’t necessarily unusual, but usually it’d be the three of you engaged in conversations initiated by you, and now that he’s alone youichi misses you more than ever before.

“are you gonna answer my question or not? are you, perhaps, too shy~”

“if you don’t shut your damn mouth soon i will literally take this pen and stab you with it.”

“how scary~” the tanuki bastard let out his very tanuki like giggle and youichi nearly snapped his pen in half, “come on, you can tell me! i’m your best friend after all!”

“the absolute audacity you have to call yourself that. you know very well my best friends are ryou-san and [name],” though, he can’t particularly deny he has began considering miyuki a close friend as well.

“i believe i’m still a better person to talk about this than either of them. unless you’d prefer to discuss it with sawamura?”

the shortstop lets out a deep, heartfelt sigh of pure annoyance, and miyuki celebrates his victory. only in the depths of his twisted little soul, of course, but celebrates nonetheless.

kuramochi turns in his chair to stare at his friends desk, and with a frown so deep it genuinely concerns miyuki, finally speaks what’s on his heart, “.. i’ve been wondering about this for a while, but what makes you guys think i like [name]? i personally don’t think we’ve done anything to make it seem that way, we’ve always been like this, so–”

“you haven’t,” kuramochi looks up then, only to see the brunet more serious than he’s ever seen him be outside of baseball, “you haven’t always been like that, don’t lie to yourself. had you said that to me last year i wouldn’t have questioned you– granted, i hadn’t known either of you for long back then, but this year you both started acting differently towards each other. it’s not much noticeable to people who don’t know you, but since i spend nearly every waking moment around you guys, it’s about as clear as sawamura wanting the ace number.”

“different?”

“you.. really haven’t noticed? kuramochi, you can’t be serious.”

he slowly shakes his head in denial, thoroughly confused on not knowing what it is he should have noticed. he thought he was supposed to be observant, what happened to that?

miyuki, with his mouth hanging open in disbelief for mere seconds, decided he was nice enough to lead his one (and only) friend in the right direction, at least. if even that fails he might just have to straight up out kuramochi to kuramochi himself.

“you became more.. nervous? flustered, should i say? around her this year. you get fidgety and your hands shake after physical contact sometimes– yes, i noticed, stop staring at me like that. sometimes– actually, pretty often you just stare at her with hearts in your eyes.”

“i do not–”

“oh you do. you stare at her like she hung the stars in the night sky, like she’s what makes the sun shine. you look at her like a man in love would.”

that was kuramochi youichis final straw, he thinks.

a week after kuramochis one-on-one eye-opening talk with his friend, he starts to notice that maybe, perhaps, theoretically, the tanuki bastard might have been right.

the keywords being the verbs expressing his uncertainty.

each passing minute he spends with you, however, he finds himself running out of verbs.

he’s caught himself staring at you very often these past few days. which would be good and all, were you not quite literally staring at him also.

these new occurrences end with both of you looking away with cheeks that are just slightly more tinted than they are naturally, and (usually) miyuki rubbing his forehead in annoyance.

if his newfound realization gets in the way of his practice, coach kataoka will have him sit out the fall tournament for sure. he can’t have that happening, so he shrugs off whatever awkwardness this caused between you to focus on getting to nationals.

he did promise you he would take you there, after all.

with that thought in his mind, he feels his lips curl into a smile, and his fielding starts to look less half-assed than before.

okay, so maybe the tanuki bastard was right, youichi thinks, so what.

it’s normal to have an eeny weeny crush on someone you know better than you know yourself at some point in your life, is it not? 

which would be all shits and giggles, were it an ‘eeny weeny’ crush, rather than a ‘oh my god she’s in the same room with me how do i breathe why is she so beautiful oh my god call an ambulance oh my god?’ crush.

he slams his head against his desk, lamenting whatever it is he’s done that got him here. why can’t he just see you the way he’s seen you before?

wait. how exactly did he see you before?

sure, you were always beautiful and nice, helpful to a fault, generous and extremely smart, but have you always sparkled like you do now?

yes. yes you have.

to kuramochi youichi you’ve always sparkled and shone brighter than the lights in rooms you occupied, brighter than the full moon in the night skies and the sun during daytime.

you entered the classroom and upon hearing you greet him his head snaps up and– is that a fucking halo?! (it is a figment of his imagination fueled by the many shojo mangas jun made him read) why are you glowing?

miyuki can only sit back and observe from his seat behind kuramochi as the shortstop looks at his life-long friend as if she herself hung the stars, brightened the days and nights– as if she put the planets in orbit. 

and if the planets in the question were kuramochi youichi and [name] was the sun, then perhaps you have. youichi somehow finds himself sucked into your atmosphere, somehow always orbiting you, always in your presence or not far from it. you are always in his thoughts and in his heart, a part of you is always in his conscience and he can do nothing but accept it, embrace it. he is kuramochi, but he is not youichi without you. similarly you are [l/name], but never [f/name] without him. if only he would’ve known sooner that neptune’s slow departure from the solar system symbolized his common sense leaving when he’s around you.

in your second year of high school, with a lot of hard work, you make it to nationals.

during the victory announcement, youichi could’ve sworn he saw a tear stream down your cheek, but it could have just been a trick of the light.

that night you once again meet under the tranquility of the stars on the diamond, but this time, it’s on a more positive note than last year.

“so, what’s the secret i was promised?”

you freeze for a mere moment, as if you yourself have forgotten you ever made him such a promise, then the shock clears out of your eyes and you turn to look at him.

“can’t we push the due date a bit?”

“wha– no! what was it all for?!” he’s waving his arms around to exaggerate his point, “i’ve waited a year for this, wondering each day what could possibly be so special, and now you tell me to wait more?! man..”

you watch his lips curl into a pout and his brows furrow and you know.

“.. not that i wouldn’t, i’d wait however long it takes, if it’s you..” you know.

you feel your face heat up slightly, even though it’s exactly what you predicted he would say. you reach out and your fingers tap against his cheek first, then you place your palm against the warm skin (it continues to grow warmer under your touch, you note).

“thank you for fulfilling your promise, youichi. i love you.”

he can physically feel his heart skip a beat and his neck very nearly break with the abnormal speed he turns his head at. blood is rushing to his head and all he hears is white noise (or perhaps that’s just the cicadas) and your words on a loop in his already you-filled brain. stars, what have you done to him? he thinks he might short-circuit.

but, then again, this could just be a normal, friendly ‘i love you’, as you usually say. he shouldn’t get his hopes up, nor be weird about it, lest you catch on and start distancing yourself from him (not that you would do that, since you didn’t after he threw lizards at you when you were 7).

“you’re welcome,” he smiles, “love ya too, stupid.”

you shake your head and he pauses, “no, youichi. i love you. always have. that’s the secret.”

“.. i’ve always loved you, too..? what do you mean,” he shakes his head to mimic you, then raises an eyebrow in question, as if not agreeing he loves you was a crime (at this point, it might even be).

“i’m in love with you, idiot,” you resist the urge to just smack him at this point, “have been for the past 10 years.”

he’s struck by lightning. hit by a truck. squashed by a rock, even. he can’t even properly describe the bolt he feels striking him upon realizing he is, in fact, an idiot. and so are you, apparently.

idiots in love, as ryousuke once said. now he knows why.

the shortstop grabs you by your shoulders and shakes you back and forth with an almost crazed look in his eyes, “oh my god. i’m in love with you, too! oh my god!”

there’s a sudden sparkle in your eyes and you grab onto his arms, “oh my god! i thought i was going insane whenever i saw you acting like a schoolgirl with a crush!”

he momentarily wonders how much money miyuki will rack up for the bets placed on who will confess first, but that’s an issue for tomorrow.

for now, youichi thinks, the only issue is finding out if your lips are as soft as they look.

(they are.)

ੈ✩₊˚TAGLIST : @gabirii @heroesfan101 @celandinee @wizardclown @solxima // ask/comment to be added/removed! (if you're in bold i can't tag you)

[verosvault]

🚨SPOILERS FOR FANTASY HIGH JUNIOR YEAR EPISODE 8🚨

Dimension20 "Fantasy High Junior Year"

Episode 8 "Fracas at the Frostyfaire Folk Festival"

Timestamp: 39:40

Video Length: 4min. & 23sec.

Research into Cassandra and Ruvina + Learning about Oblivati Mori (Pt.1 | Pt.2 | ‣Pt.3)

Brennan: "But that would mean that if someone was able to write it, they would know it, but they would have to have a way of writing it without breaking Obliviati Mori. There's two pieces of information you guys can glean from that right away, the first of which is that belief and worship and the weird, tenuous alliances between gods where some of them are from the same region but have conflicting domains, and some gods have the same domain as other gods but are still ascendent in different areas or for different kinds of cultures or anything like that, all the gods have this agreement that is basically like, for lack of a better word, we're all playing the game, and if your fucking buddy or your pal or someone you love loses fair and square, you're not allowed to go to your mortal worshipers and say, "Hey, can we peel off a few followers to my buddy who's having a hard time right now?" It's basically like a law of, you are not allowed to root for each other. You are not allowed to pull for each other. You're not allowed to put a thumb on the scale in that way. If your flocks choose to have you work together, you can work together, but when a god dies, that's it. You're not allowed to cheat by reminding mortals that there was this other deity."

Siobhan: "But if we went and asked another deity about this god, would they then be able to tell us? Or would we have to specifically say their name?"

Brennan: "According to Obliviati Mori, they would not be able to tell you. But the law is a law, which immediately to you, Adaine, would tell you, well, any rule has ways of working around it."

Siobhan: "Ok, Great. So it's a law, but laws can be broken."

Brennan: "Yeah. And there might be enormous arcane penalties for so doing, but effectively, you know that there are dead gods. There are rules concerning how the other gods can refer to those dead gods to mortals, if they are even allowed to. And to a certain degree... But again, the second, biggest thing is, of course, this wouldn't be a thing unless gods could always remember dead gods."

Siobhan: "Mhmm."

Zac: "So do we have a sense of, when Lydia and her crew were on this mission, they never knew the name of this god, right? Or did they at one point know it?"

Brennan: "Lydia can confirm for you, she's like,"

Lydia: "We never knew the name of the god. We knew Bakur, the fiend, but-"

Fig: "Even though gods can't say the name, the name could still exist out there in texts."

Lydia: "Exactly, which is why a lot of, you know, if a god is trying to be crushed or scoured, you try to break their idols, erase their texts, burn the holy texts, all that kind of thing. But theoretically, if we had found the name written somewhere on text, that would have done it.

Fabian: "Then it makes sense why Cassandra said that thing about being like, I thought you were dead."

Fig: "I thought you were dead."

*multiple "yeah's" at the table* 😂🤣💀

Fabian: "Mm~."

Riz: "So if you had to get around it, maybe a way to do it would be to possess someone or something. Is it possible that Lucy..."

Fig: "Was possessed?"

Riz: "...was possessed?"

Fig: "All the Rat Grinders are suspiciously qui-. No one's grieving Lucy or anything like that."

Adaine: "Yeah, it's weird, right?"

Fig: "So the Rat Grinders are in on this, in some capacity. And I even think it's possible that, the way that Ivy reacted to me, either she saw through my disguise and so she was being cheeky, or Lucy's around somehow and they've just found another way to proselytize-"

Fabian: "Oh-! Maybe- Yes! 'Cause she did beckon to you, right? To be like-"

Fig: "Yeah, she was like, 'Oh- Okay, we're meeting up.'"

Fabian: "Ooo~ Yes, like a possession thing, where somebody's, the god is Lucy and- and-"

Murph: "What happened to that armor after Gilear had it?"

Emily: "What happened with the armor?"

Brennan: "He'd stolen it from Hell, and he just returned it to you when you guys got back from spring break."

Emily: "Where is it?"

Murph: "So, it just should be in Hell?"

Brennan: "Yeah, the Armor of Pride is back in the Hall of the Armors of Sin."

Murph: "Okay."

Brennan: "So the Armor of Pride is just down in Hell."

Emily: "And all the demons are archfey are fallen deities?"

Brennan: "Unclear. Some great celestials and fiends are created by gods in their status as celestials or fiends. Bakur was created by a god that he could no longer name, right, and so there's certain- But it looks like some divinities, some archfey or some celestials or some things like that, are gods who, their worship is waning and waning and waning or their divinity is waning and waning and waning, and they just make a decision to, rather than face death, become something that relies a little bit less on faith."

[n0nesence]

I'm honestly so confused about that Tiktok Timothy made about the r@p3 allegations. In November of 2017, Timothy tweeted "what if I have my own story of ab*se but I'm scared to ruin the persons life and I still love them in a f*ck*d up way and the public really loves them and most probably wouldn't believe me" (talking about Melanie) And on December 4, 2017, Timothy publicly accused Melanie of s*xual assault on Twitter. She alleged two nights during which she "repeatedly said no" to advances from Melanie, claiming she kept secret for years and describing how Melanie had performed s*xual activities on her without her consent. Melanie replied to the accusation shortly after claiming Timothy's allegation was false, and stating "she never said no to what we chose to do together". Melanie further affirmed: "I understand how hard it could be to see my side of the story, considering no one with a heart would want to invalidate anyone speaking up about this topic I would never be intimate with someone without their absolute consent" and then In an interview with Newsweek, Timothy claimed that Melanie tried to contact both her and her boyfriend around 20 minutes after publishing the accusations through text and phone calls. No evidence to back this up was ever shared. In the aforementioned interview, Timothy went on to say that Melanie's dismissal of her account "says it all": "First of all, I did say 'no,' multiple times, but even if I hadn't, that doesn't mean I wanted it. She dug her own grave saying, 'she didn't say no'. That's not consent." I'm so confused, because Timothy said this and then she had changed the story multiple times in that year ect. and now she's talking about it again after so many years, why didn't she go to the police ect. I don't know, her Tiktok is confusing. Like, why would you make a Tiktok instead of going to the police? (Also, I'm not picking sides or anything I'm just saying because this is really confusing) anyways, I hope the truth is revealed, idk.

(Just wanted to share my thoughts about it and the information I had because I've been a fan of Melanie since 2012 and I have seen the 2017 tweets Timothy had said and I have them screenshoted after years and everything)

Exactly, the story is getting changed left right and centre. There's no clear story

Also, Timothy's friend has actually revealed that in 2017 when Melanie actually tried to call her to understand what was happening with the accusations, Timothy just laughed at her and said nothing before hanging up (you can find it here)

Timothy also isn't that good of a person anyway, she's been caught saying the N word, lying about being trans for money from a rapper, and getting a person in junior high to create the banner for her Only Fans 😬 (she's also been seen only letting her minor-aged fans access to her private Instagram...)

I feel like there's much more to this case than what either are speaking about (not that Melanie is speaking at all)

I guess we'll just have to wait it out just like in 2017 (just like the saying: history will always find a way to repeat itself)

Also please either send or post those screenshots! I've never actually been able to read them fully, just been able to read the ones that aren't fully true yk?

[otdiaftg]

The Raven King - Chapter Seven

Day: Thursday, October 5th Time: 11:30 PM EST

"I mean literally soft. Too many curves, see? I feel like my hands would slide right off. It's totally not my thing. I like..." He drew a box with his fingers as he searched for words. "Erik. Erik's perfect. He's a total outdoors junkie, rock climbing and hiking and mountain biking, all that awful bug-infested fresh-air stuff. He's stronger than I am, and I like that. I feel like I could lean on him all day and he wouldn't break a sweat." "Funny," Nicky said. "That didn't used to be my type. None of the others I crushed on growing up were anything like that. Maybe that's why none of them could help me." Nicky turned his hands palm-up on the table and considered them. "My parents are kind of crazy, you know? There's religious and there's super psychotic religious. Me and Renee, we're the decent sort, I think. We go to different churches and have some different ideas, but we respect each other anyway. We understand that religion is just an interpretation of faith. But my parents are the black-and-white crazy kind. It's only right and wrong with them: hellfire and damnation and judgment from on high. "For some reason I tried coming out to them anyway," Nicky said. "Mom was pretty upset. She locked herself in the bedroom and cried and prayed for days. Dad took a more direct route and shipped me off to Christian gay camp. I spent a year learning that I was infected by a disgusting idea from the devil, that I was a living test for every other good Christian on the planet. They tried using God to shame me into being straight. "It didn't work," Nicky said. "For a while I wished it did. I went home feeling like an abomination and a failure. I couldn't face my parents like that, so I lied. I pretended to be straight for the rest of high school. I even dated a couple girls. I kissed a couple of them, but I used my faith as an excuse never to get further than first base. I knew I just had to keep it together until graduation. "I hated my life so much," Nicky said. "I couldn't do that, you know? I couldn't live a lie like that day after day. I felt trapped. Some days I thought God abandoned me; sometimes I thought I failed Him. Halfway through my junior year I started thinking about suicide. Then my German teacher took me aside and told me about a study abroad program. She would set it all up for me, she said, if my parents would sign off on it. She'd handle admissions and get a host family and everything. It'd be expensive, but she thought I needed a change in scenery. Guess she knew I was that close to the edge. "I didn't think Mom and Dad would go for it, but they were so proud of me for my so-called recovery they agreed to let me go my senior year. I just had to last another semester and then I could go. I was so desperate to get out of there I didn't even really pay attention when Aaron and Aunt Tilda moved to Columbia that spring. All I cared about was keeping it together until May. I know now I should have tried harder, but I would've been no good to him how I was. "When the plane took off from Columbia, I was scared to death," Nicky said. "I was so relieved to leave my parents and everyone I knew, but I didn't know if being in Germany would change anything. When I landed, my new host brother was waiting for me in Arrivals. Erik Klose," Nicky said, sounding it out like he was saying it for the first time. "He taught me to believe in myself. He showed me how to balance my faith and my sexuality, and he made me okay again. I know it sounds dramatic, but he saved my life." Nicky flipped his hands over and laced his fingers together. The look he turned on Neil was as reassuring as it was worried and made Neil want to edge away. "That's what love is about, see? That's why Exy isn't ever going to be enough, not for you or Andrew or anyone. It can't hold you up, and it won't make you a stronger or better person."

Art used with permission by Kurra. Thank you @kurra !