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#and i swear i can make it for another week
fyorina · 2 days
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ᡣ𐭩 KNOW IT'S FOR THE BETTER (ALL I WANTED WAS YOU)
FEATURING: dazai osamu
SUMMARY: he can't stop himself from calling; you can't stop yourself from answering. he never speaks, but he doesn't have to—just knowing he's there is enough to lure you in. that's how it remains for weeks. that is until you mention that you're going on a risky mission and dazai has to to make an equally risky decision to keep you safe.
(wordcount: 3.1k; fem!reader, pm!reader, post-defection, angsty but not awfully so (again, sorry, i swear there's happier ones coming), implied alcoholism, dazai gets a bit jealous, ango cameo)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: OKAYYYYYY this was actually my first pm!reader and pmzai fic, believe it or not, it's been in my notes app for ages. i tried to fix most of the inconsistencies. as always, can be read as a standalone butttt for the people following the pm!reader universe, this comes directly after death by a thousand cuts! i hope you guys enjoy!! im actually rlly excited to finally get this fic out here!
He calls you sometimes.
Well, you don’t know for sure it’s him—he never speaks, if you’re lucky sometimes you can hear soft puffs of air from the other line, and the number is always unknown, but you know in your heart that it’s him. 
The first call came three days after you found him drunk in an alley—seven months after his defection. 
The unknown caller ID popped up on your phone while you were drinking with Chuuya in his apartment, trying to forget all about Dazai Osamu and all of the pain he’s brought you. You answered it irritably and when you got no response from the caller, you promptly told them to fuck off and die if they’re going to waste your time with prank calls. You expected them to hang up right away but they didn’t—in fact, they only hung up when they heard Chuuya shouting for you to get off the phone so he can open another bottle of wine, as if he wasn’t going to anyway. 
The next call came another three days after that. 
You were in a meeting with Mori when the unknown caller popped back up on your phone screen. You excused yourself to answer the phone only because you were desperate for a reason to get out of the meeting—you think that he might’ve somehow sniffed out that you ran into Dazai and if he outright asked you, you didn’t know if you’d be able to lie without him catching you in it. 
Regardless of the reasoning, you were even more pissed off than you were the first time when you heard the silence on the other end, accusing them of fucking with you and demanding to know how they got your number—again, the person didn’t say anything, and you hung up even more irate than you were the first time. 
It takes three more calls for you to put the pieces together—it’s a bit embarrassing how long it took you, but in your defense, you were trying to put Dazai Osamu as far from your mind as possible. Honestly, you weren’t even sure of it when you first guessed his name. It’s a shot in the dark when you answer the unknown caller for the fifth time and whisper, “Dazai?” so very hesitantly. Your confirmation comes in the form of a sharp inhale on the other line before it instantly goes dead. 
He doesn’t call again for two weeks, and when he finally does, it’s in the middle of the night. The buzzing of the phone woke you up, your alarm clock glowing a bright 3:15 am. You don’t even look at the caller—you figure it’s Chuuya, who has yet to return from his mission in Sendai—as you answer with a groggy “what?” 
You get no response besides the sound of a shaky breath on the other end and suddenly you’re wide awake as you realize who exactly called. He doesn’t speak, even as you make yourself sick with anger—he’s conscious and coherent this time, unlike the time you ran into him in the alley, so you take the opportunity to unleash all of the pent up rage and hurt that you’d withheld that night. You cry for the first time since he defected and he stays on the line the whole time, until you eventually exhaust yourself and fall asleep. When you wake up in the morning, he’s hung up, but the call time reads four and a half hours. 
It becomes a weekly occurrence—occasionally biweekly. 
Sometimes, you tell him about your day, rambling on about how you were irritated because Mori made you deal with Ace or complaining about recent territory issues that the Port Mafia has been facing—something that you probably shouldn’t be sharing on an unsecure line with someone who defected from the mafia, but you can never bring yourself to fully care because it’s Dazai. 
Other times, you just lay in bed quietly, exhausted after a full day of work, the phone resting next to your ear as doze off to the comforting sound of his steady breathing. 
You don’t tell anyone. 
If anyone knew you’re keeping in contact with a traitor, you’d be executed. You think that Chuuya might know—the two of you now share the penthouse of the westernmost skyscraper of the five buildings of the Port Mafia’s base and you know he’s smart enough to have put together who you’re talking to late at night. But if he does, he doesn’t say anything, because he too knows what the consequences of your actions would be if it were true.
You let out a soft puff of air as your phone begins buzzing—it’s well past midnight and you’re half asleep, but you roll over and pick up the phone with heavy eyes.
“Hey,” you whisper.
Dazai doesn’t respond, he never does, but you can hear him breathing on the other line, closer to the speaker than he usually is. You can’t help but notice that his breath is heavier than usual too, a bit shakier. 
He’s been drinking, you realize. You figured that he usually drinks on the nights that he calls you, but he never lets himself close enough to the speaker for you to figure out if it’s true. You just hope it’s not as bad as….
“I won’t be able to answer for a while after this,” you say quietly after a few moments, rolling over in bed to shift your face closer to the phone. “Mori assigned me another mission. An infiltration one—first one since you’ve been gone.”
Dazai would know the implications of that, and from the way he inhales sharply at your words, you know he does instantly, even in his drunken state. 
Whenever you were sent on infiltration missions, Dazai was always the one in your ear, making sure that you got in and out safely. You refused to take infiltration missions unless Dazai and his freakish prophetic ability was the one on comms for you because you knew he’d be able to figure out if you’ve been compromised before the enemy have even figured it out for themselves. 
But you had known it was only a matter of time before Mori put you back on them. You’re the best suited in the Port Mafia for them and the recent issues with that gang that’s been moving into the northern wards from Asakusa all but demands interference from the inside lest you guys will be dealing with another major gang war and the city can’t handle that. 
“I’m nervous,” you admit for the first time, voice little over a whisper. “I don’t trust anyone but you to be my eyes and ears. Plus this mafia is... They're very violent. Kawabata leads it. I faced off against him in Osaka before he moved into Tokyo, back when I was still in Kyoto. It's... risky. It's been years but I'm worried he'll recognize me. I don't know why Mori is insisting on me being the one to go in.”
You swear you hear Dazai take in another breath, as if he was about to say something this time, but he doesn’t. Your throat feels swollen and your eyes feel misty, jaw tight. Not for the first time, you miss Dazai. You miss him so desperately that you swear your chest caves in at the thought of him. 
You want to hate him but you know you can’t. You've come to accept that already. But you think you still might like to pretend you can.
You told yourself after you ran into him that night that you’d push him from mind, you’d forget about him. You knew that one day you’d meet him again—you and Dazai Osamu have been entwined since the day you met, fate has a lot left in store for the two of you for things to just so abruptly end—but until that day, you have to focus on what matters. And what matters is the Port Mafia.
But how are you supposed to forget him when he can’t even bring himself to fully leave you behind? You think it’s cruel of him, and you think that you should ignore his calls until he finally gives up, but you can’t bring yourself to because no matter how much you preach about forgetting him, if the choice of keeping contact with him arises, you’ll always choose it.
“I miss you,” you breathe out, voice cracking over your words. “I miss you so much that it hurts, Dazai. i-“
The line goes dead. 
The words on your lips die as soon as you realize he hung up, heart sinking. You sigh as you stare up at the ceiling before curling over onto your side, hoping to at least get a little sleep before your early wake up call for mission prep. 
But it’s a naive hope—you know that you’ll never sleep tonight, not with thoughts of Dazai Osamu racing through your mind. 
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Dazai shouldn’t be doing this. 
His knuckles are white as he sits at a row of monitors in a locked down ex-government facility. On each of the screens are different vantage points of the main base of the Scarlet Gang, the mafia that had been run out of the Asakusa ward of Tokyo by the Sun and Steel and is now challenging the Port Mafia. 
Ango is pacing somewhere behind him, expression tight and arms crossed against his chest. Dazai knows that he’s livid over this, but Dazai also does not care because he doesn’t think that Ango has a right to be livid about anything that Dazai does anymore. 
He’s been here for three days already. His knees are tucked to his chest as he sits on the spinning chair, bags heavy beneath his eyes and hair matted and oily after days of sitting in front of the screen without budging an inch. He doesn’t dare take his eyes off the screen—not when your life is on the line, and especially not when he’s not even on a direct comms line with you. All he has is a burner cell and hope that you at least take a look at your phone if he has to send a text.
If this mission is like every other infiltration mission you’ve been sent on, it’ll be another two days before your planned extraction—and if you have the same luck you always do, the mission will go smoothly. But Dazai has a dark feeling in his gut, and he isn’t quite sure if it’s because he has no control over the mission or if something bad really is going to happen, there have already been some suspicious signs and he doesn't trust Mori. Your whole comment about his insistence on you going keeps scratching the back of his head like he's missing something, because there's no way Mori would ever risk losing your ability, especially to Kawabata. The man is always scheming, and Dazai is certain there's one simmering below the facade of this mission but he just can't figure out what. Either way, he knows he can't risk stepping away for even a moment. 
“I thought you were done with this, Dazai.” Ango finally has the nerve to voice what dazai knows he’s been itching to say for three days. “I thought-“
“Maybe you should stop thinking,” Dazai says dryly, his head hurts and sweat is beading beneath his arms. Three days without drinking is affecting him way more than he thought it would, but he can’t afford to be inebriated for this.
“Dazai-“ Ango begins.
“I’m not doing this for the Port Mafia,” Dazai cuts him off, dark eyes dragging across the screen to where he sees you laughing with one of the members of the Scarlet Gang, leaning in close with a teasing smile. 
You’re beautiful. Stunning. He can’t blame the way the man you’re talking to seems to gravitate closer to you, enamored by the sound of your voice and the way your eyes glitter beneath the room’s chandelier, but he still wishes he could put a bullet through his head. 
He hasn’t seen you since the day before he left—well, he doesn’t remember seeing you since then, at least. He has some suspicions regarding the part of his ear that mysteriously went missing the night he woke up in one of your shared safehouses, but this is his first time really seeing you and it makes his chest feel sick and heavy to know you’re so out of reach and by his own doing, nonetheless.
His eyes narrow as he watches the man reach out to brush his fingers against your arm. His lips twist down even more when his gaze tracks down to your lips—this is always his least favorite part of being on comms for your infiltration missions. 
“You won’t be able to oversee all of her infiltration missions anymore, Dazai,” Ango says, voice a bit more gentle and Dazai has a distinct urge to rip out the man’s vocal cords. “Once I get your records clear and you’ve joined up with the Agency, you’re going to have to leave this all behind for good. All of it.”
Dazai doesn’t respond. His lips press together tight as Ango’s words register. He knows that he’s right, that if he wants to honor Odasaku’s final wishes, then he has to leave everything behind—even you—but he can hardly even bear the thought of it. Never seeing you again, never hearing your voice again, he thinks that a life without you is not a life worth living. 
He thought that he’d be able to do it, that he’d be able to cut you off just like everyone else, but it only took one drunken night at a bar when he stared at old pictures of you for a bit too long for him to give in to the aching feeling in his chest, the desperate need to at least hear your voice one last time. 
Except one last time turned into another and another; as much as Dazai Osamu likes to pretend to be strong, he’s always been weak at heart for you. From he moment he met you three years earlier during the Dragon’s Head Conflict—sent with Chuuya by Mori to retrieve you after finding out the squad sent to escort you back had been decimated by an ability user—he’s known that he was out of his depth when it comes to you. 
He was already curious to begin with, Mori doesn’t speak highly of anyone but he did speak highly of you, and at first Dazai assumed it was just because you were a girl, and a young one at that. Everyone knows Mori’s gross fascination with them. But when they found you mid-conflict with an ability user, trying to hold your own with only a gun and some rubble as shields to defend yourself from sweltering flames, he realized that maybe there was more that meets the eye to you. 
You’re beautiful—god, he can never stress it enough, words don’t do you justice. Wicked smart. Can talk your way into and out of any situation. Have a bounty on your head high enough to rival his own. From the day he met you, Dazai knew you were everything he’s ever wanted. And yeah, maybe it took him too long to come to terms with that, but it doesn’t make the feelings any less powerful.
Sometimes, when he drinks just a bit too much and he finds himself staring at old pictures of the two of you that he’d taken, he wonders if you would have come with him if he told you what he was doing. He wonders if maybe he hadn’t been a coward, you would be with him right now instead of risking your life on an infiltration mission with some incompetent moron on comms instead of him. He wonders if maybe he would have kissed you on that same bridge he tried to kill himself during that first week he spent drunk and alone. 
He doubts it. In his heart, he’s pretty sure you’d always choose the Mafia over him, but it’s nice to pretend sometimes.
“I don’t care” Dazai finally says, his voice rougher than he intended as he gives Ango a cold look from the corner of his eye. “I won’t let her die on a bullshit mission because some clown is on comms for her.” 
Ango doesn’t get a chance to respond again because Dazai’s eyes are drawn back to the monitors, where a conversation is taking place on the far side of the room. A conversation that has them looking in your direction a bit too often for his liking.
Dazai inhales, rising to his feet, shoulders and arms tensing as his eyes trace the screen, trying to figure out if he should send you a warning. If he’s wrong, it’ll have completely blown your mission and it would put you at risk if Mori or any of the other executives start questioning you as to why you abandoned the mission for no reason.
But if he’s right… 
Dazai is good at many things, and he’s always been quick to be the one on comms with you because he, better than anyone else in the mafia, is good at reading and predicting enemy moves. He always knows in his gut what’s about to happen, you would sometimes joke that it was his real ability, some form of foresight and you would be less joking when you nudge his shoulder and tell him that you’re glad you have his ‘freaky prophetic ability’ otherwise you’d have been dead a long time ago.
Dazai grits his teeth. He feels Ango approaching him from behind but ignores him, mind racing as he tries to calculate the best course of action.
Finally, he takes the burner phone and shoots you a short message: compromised. 
And then he waits. 
The longest and most tense minute of his life passes as he watches you on the screen, waiting to see if you’ll even bother to check your phone. He doesn’t think that he’ll be able to stay in the room if it turns out you are compromised and stuck in enemy territory—he’d feel helpless, unable to do anything but watch and pray to a god he barely believes in that you get out okay. 
Come on, he thinks to himself as one of the men begins making his way in your direction, nails digging into his palms so deeply that blood began to flow from the crescents. Come on, check your phone. 
And then you do. 
He lets out a shaky breath of relief when he sees you pull out your phone, eyes tracing the message on your screen rapidly. A flurry of emotions rocket across your face, and for a moment, Dazai thinks that you’re about to cry.
But then you smile again, leaning in and clasping the man’s hand and leaning in to brush your lips against his cheek before making your way out of the room. He doesn’t dare look away until you’ve slipped out of sight from the cameras littered throughout the building and out of danger. 
Without another word, Dazai turns to leave the old facility.
“Dazai,” Ango calls after him.
Dazai ignores him, snapping the burner phone. You’re safe—that’s all that matters. Now he can go back to drinking himself away and dreaming of what could’ve been. 
Two days later, Mori sends you away on a mission abroad that lasts the next three years. That night was the last time he had any sort of contact with you until you’re finally brought back.
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h4terb0t · 3 days
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𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝕺𝖋 𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕭𝖔𝖔𝖙.
☆ 18+ only/no minors. | jason todd x gn! reader.
SUMMARY: a nsft fic about brat taming with a needy jason who's trying to make up for an argument. in his own way.
WARNINGs: 18+, dom! gn! reader, sub! jason, no penetration, brat taming, shoe humping/grinding, (minor, on reader's part) degradation & praise, (minor, on reader's part) slapping, partial nudity & begging on jason's end.
WORD COUNT: 1700+
NOTEs: second person & no plot. first smut & not beta'd. this insert is more of a mean type until the end. [guy, and no pronouns used to refer to the insert/reader.]
It's never easy to get him into that 'sub' mindset. He's always catching on to exactly what you're doing. At every turn, he's struggling against you, making sure there isn't a moment of vulnerability with how easy it can be to crack down the tension into something enjoyable. Sometimes.
The mere thought of giving away someone else that control is enough to stir nausea in the pit of his stomach.
And it stays there. For days, if it wants. Jason's head never makes it easy. Even through the fog that wraps around him in the most gentle manner that can be mustered, the worst possibilities always stand at the back of it. It makes him regret even letting himself be touched; no matter how much he's reassured you'll never take advantage of what's given.
The other half of the time, he craves it like air.
Finally, it's not only the ache. His head doesn't have to be caught on solely about how bad his legs are still burning up on the inside, be it from patrol or whatever the hell else he was doing, because he can grasp onto the sweat-slicked memories that came with the previous day despite it. 
The sting remains, and yet. Wounds are carefully tended to afterwards, and bite marks from a completely separate source are kissed until enough is enough, and you are pushed away with whatever laughter his sore throat can still give.
Today is one of the better ones.
The earlier thoughts aren't biting away at what can be considered rational. His heart isn't running a marathon in the cage around it, but Jason's breathing is still one of the loudest sounds in the room, other than the bed creaking under your weight as the space between the two of you is closed.
Under thick lashes, hazel eyes stare up at you from the floor, and you groan at the obvious intent to get back into good graces. "C’mon, don’t look at me like that."
The argument that brought up the act was, honestly, not the worst. Another misunderstanding, something taken out of context. Words were left unsaid, and the 'wrong' ones were spoken out without much thought other than they'd dig deep. Compared to the start of the relationship, it's been getting better.
Jason tries with what little he knows and pushes past the urge to cut everything off at the roots. He could've left for weeks—leave entirely without a single message. Instead, he's not going to put you through that again, but it'll never be easy for him. And so, he takes a different approach.
He's on his knees in front of the bed with a wounded, puppy-eyed expression. With the bottom of his outfit stripped, he's left all alone in a hoodie and jockstrap as dark as the night outside your guys's little hideout. The black straps stretch around his thighs, and with his pants forgotten somewhere around the apartment, the bulk of his scars are out in the open.
His underwear gives away at the bulge underneath. Even kneeling in front of you alone made him unreasonably needy.
The remark has Jason nuzzling his head on top of one of your legs. Black curls envelope your knee.
"'M sorry. I wanna be good, I swear," He purrs, and he wants to try and smile to play the part, be cute, and let anything else fade into background noise, but he's not suited for that. Eyes scan over your face, looking for some semblance of understanding. "Feel good. All for you."
Your foot presses against the bulge enough for him to feel it down almost the entire length. A hiss breathes through his clenched jaw, and he lets a whine slip and curls forward, resting his cheek on your leg.
"Hmm—don’t know. You sure you can do that without barking at me like a dog tonight?"
He takes full advantage of the indulgence, dragging his face against you in slow motion while he pushes down the edges of his lips. Well aware he's won, his hands come up around your leg, palming at you for the chance the contact might be taken away as easily as it was given.
The act drops instantly.
"What, you can’t handle it?" His eyes shut for a second before staring back at you with heavy, glassy lids, mouth agape as he practically drools in panted breaths. "I'm not a fucking dog."
In small, janky movements, so it isn't obvious, Jason rocks his hips forward. He stops complaining, though, when your hand comes down to pet his curls.
As much as your boyfriend's merciless begging and apologies are usually enough to get the better of you in these quiet moments, it hasn't been hard to notice how he's been exploiting the niceties to compromise with you over every act in bed.
It's difficult to get him to let go of control despite the obsession and encourage him to rest in a healthy manner once in awhile if it's just so easy to swindle you into doing what he wants. He seems to think he'll get everything he wants with a few pretty sounds, and that's been cemented in his head.
So, tonight—maybe if the cards are played right—can be a good teaching point. Just to show you aren’t going to put up with his bullshit.
“You can cum with my shoe, right, Jay?”
His brows furrow, but then he dips his back to the floor while his eyes flicker close.
Yeah, no. The summer heat isn't kind to the city, leaving your shared room smoldering apart from the fan in the corner, so every motion forces him to suck in more heated air. At the very least, he could be up there with you. It wouldn't be some plain clothes sticking to his skin from the sweat.
The floor, though padded with carpet, is getting uncomfortable real fast.
"Please—please, can you use your mouth or hands?"
And much to his surprise, you press on his dick uncomfortably hard. He tries not to shift in place as it happens, taking in a harsh breath all the while listening to you—listening to the words sink in through his racing head.
"What, is my foot not good enough for you? Little brat."
All his plans turn into nothing. He thought it'd at least take awhile before you'd get this harsh. He wasn't even trying to be that, but it's good enough.
The lump in his throat is swallowed past, and nothing sounds out. Jason shakes his head lightly, refusing to even lift his bottom lip from where he has it pinned under his teeth.
"Good. Then hump my foot." He lets out a pitiful whimper, hoping to coax some sympathy out of you.
It doesn’t work. So slowly, he pushes his hips forward and back.
And he does that for awhile, and it doesn't even feel that good. It's embarrassing being forced to listen to himself heave through every breath.
Gradually, pre-cum soaks through the jockstrap. It makes it easier, but it's still a fucking shoe. It's all he can focus on. He struggles to not dig his fingers into the thick of your leg, to get his mind to focus on anything else but the sting that comes with moving them at all. His knuckles are pressed firmly against the wrap around them—his knees hurt.
He's cursing himself out in his own head. It doesn't help with the burn at the edge of his lids, obviously.
He wipes the beginning of the waterworks against your pants, doing it along with each drag so it isn't too clear what he's doing while his forehead is pressed to your knee, but it doesn't stop. So, he spares himself a bit of the shame and tries to use it to garner some pity.
"Please, please—"
"Do you even know what you're begging for?" You know what he's doing. As hard as it is to ignore the pretty sobs that always distress you, you continue, "What are you crying for, brat?"
He really should've taken that glass earlier without letting his thoughts get the better of him, forgetting everything else you've done for him in the years you've known each other in favor of an intrusive thought.
Jason's voice sounds as rough as it feels as he wails and grips your leg tighter. "Please—touch me. Touch me; I'll be good."
"You sure? You going to listen for once?" You lightly push down on his bulge once again, and that just gets him to grind more frantically in the moment.
A light slap comes over the side of his face, and finally he peers up at you while your hand comes around to tilt his face up by the jaw. Your thumb runs over the streaks of tears, drying that part as you make sure his attention is on you alone.
"You gonna be a good boy for me and listen to me?"
His eyes seal after a moment.
And then a groan slips by undeterred. He leans into your hand, nodding while he does. His hips buckle without any protest, grounding against the leather of your shoe, because if he doesn't do something fast, the heat building up in his stomach is going to burst into nothing but a spark.
Your voice draws him in further: "Alright then, then do what I said."
The last few stray drops are dried by your pants. And just like that, he is cumming. You rub against his clothed cock, coaxing him through the short scene of euphoria as his cum leaks through the underwear.
It's not much, but it helps to glide your shoe nicely over the twitching length.
You don’t stop the stroking, and he begins to hiccup at the overstimulation. Jason doesn't do anything but shudder in response; he can't bring himself to. As much as it'd be nice to pull away now, the top of your hand is inching into his hair, your fingers brushing through it just barely.
Your foot eases off.
Once he catches his breath, the long sleeves of a hoodie wrap around your leg wholly, and during that, he uses it as a clutch while practically collapsing forward.
"There’s my boy."
With the exhaustion wrecking him altogether, Jason lets himself smile without punishment for once. His head begins to nuzzle into the warmth of your hand.
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an0ther1 · 1 day
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Untitled pt.2
Leah x OC
A/N: A little more in my current project. I’m still getting a feel for my characters. Feedback/thoughts welcome.
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“What are we at, one more week?” Kim adjusted the weight on the bench press bar.
“Abouts yeah. I make it to the end of the week without any pain and things feel normal, I’ll get to run on the grass with everyone next.”
Kim laid down on the bench. “Well I’m sure you know what I’m going to say, but I’m going to say it anyway. Don’t do anything stupid and listen to your body. If something is off, waiting an extra day or 2 isn’t going to kill you.” She pushed the bar up off the rack. “Trust me.” She grunted as she lowered the bar to her chest.
“I hear you. And I won’t.”
“Hey Caps.” Beth came bouncing to the end of the bench. “Le, what time do we have the venue for Saturday?”
“Umm, 9 until whenever really. Though I told ‘em it would probably wrap up around 5. 6 hours for a baby shower seemed like more than enough.” Leah answered as she spotted Kim.
“Probably right on that. So we have 2 hours to decorate? That should be plenty. I think Steph has the catering scheduled for between 10 and 11.” Beth twisted her lips as she tried to remember.
“What did I do?”
“Catering. What time is that showing up?”
“Ah, yeah. 10:30 bouts. I’ll call and confirm on Thursday though.”
Kim put the bar back on the rack and sat up. “If we can get in at 9, I’ll schedule the cake and sweets to come around 10.”
“So we just need all the girls to show up at 9 to set up?” Leah switched with Kim after removing a few pounds from either end of the bar.
“Yeah, that should be about it. Caitlin promised that she kept a check on Katie and the games, but Stina is going to claim that she will be the one running the games so she can see what she came up with.”
“Good idea Meado. When Katie called dibs on games and said she was going to use a few “McCabe family classics” I was a bit worried about what those would entail. You really never know what you might get with an Irish family that large.” Kim helped Leah lift the bar to start her set.
“I thought most of Katie’s siblings were younger than her?” Steph asked.
“Ask her to name all her cousins some time.” Lotte interjected as she joined the group. “We talking about Erin’s baby shower?” The group nodded. “You know she’s right there.” Lotte pointed across the room to Erin, their social media content creator, who was sitting in a chair with a laptop balanced on a very round belly. “I thought this was supposed to be a surprise.”
“She has her headphones in editing. She can’t hear anything.” Beth shrugged. “You have everything worked out with Dylan?”
“Yeah. Him and Tao have some plan that Dylan swears Erin will fall for. They’re going to tell her I have a children’s event to attend so I can help set up.”
“Great. And Viv has been talking to Erin’s family, she just needs to confirm the time with them.” Beth added.
“What about Dylan’s family?” Leah said as she finished her set in the bench press. “I know they're American, but is Dylan’s parents planning on being here when Gemma is born? They might be in by then.”
Lotte shook her head. “Dylan told me and Tao he doesn’t talk to anyone in his family besides his cousin Rose.”
“Wait, isn’t that the middle name they’re giving Gemma?” Steph asked.
“Yeah. Rose is the cousin he grew up with. Dylan talks about her like a sister. I think she’s a year or two older. But she’ll be there. So he’ll at least have some family.” Lotte finished.
“Sounds like this is going to be a fantastic party for our little Gooner and her mum.” Kim looked around the group. “But now, finish up your reps. We’re on the pitch in 30.”
Everyone saluted their captain before dispersing.
**************************
The week for the most part had gone smoothly. The team didn’t have their first January game for another 10 days. But Leah was finally going to be able to join team trainings next week, after almost 9 months, and the anticipation was wearing her thin. Several times she was asked if she was excited, or nervous, and repeatedly reminded that the wait was almost over. Almost. She was sure Saturday was going to be full of the same, though the full Arsenal staff and then some would be at Erin’s baby shower, so Leah would hear it ten fold. She needed a break. Which is how she found herself out to dinner on a Friday night, alone, sitting at the end of the bar top of the restaurant she had come to the previous week. She had come in a little earlier this time though, hoping it would be less crowded before the dinner rush, and she had been right, allowing her to get the same seat at the end with her back to everyone else. Tonight she would be any other diner. Not soon to return from injury, Leah Williamson.
Leah greeted Colin as she took her seat, ordering a glass of Chardonnay. The bar keep was placing the glass in front of Leah with a menu before she had even gotten comfortable.
“Would you like the chicken again?” The ginger asked.
“Might do an app first. Take my time and do some reading on my phone if it’s no bother.” Leah smiled.
“Not at all. I’d say the hummus is great. That and the pitas are made in house.”
“Yeah? Alright. I’ll start with that, thanks.” Leah pushed the menu back towards Colin. “And I’ll order the chicken a little later.”
Colin reached for the menu. “I’ll have that right out.”
Leah leaned back in her chair and pulled up the book she was reading on her phone. Picking the wine glass up off the bar, she took a small sip and relaxed. Colin placed a plate in front of her a short time later and for the next 20 minutes or so, she enjoyed her wine and appetizer completely uninterrupted while she read. The noise in the restaurant slowly rose as the main dining area filled and the seats at the bar top were taken one by one. Colin had just refilled her wine and was putting in her dinner order when someone finally claimed the last seat next to her.
“Is this seat taken, miss?”
Leah had heard that voice before. She lowered her phone. “No it’s not. By all means.” She smiled at the new guest. “Hello again RJ.”
“Miss Williamson.” RJ smiled softly as they pulled out the chair before placing their coat over the back. “Nice seeing you here again.”
“Will you be watching another football match?” Leah asked as she watched RJ prop their phone up on top of the bar.
“I was planning on finally watching Sinclair’s last international match. Figured if I did it in public I wouldn’t cry.” RJ waved at Colin and gave him a thumbs up. Clearly not needing words to order.
“Are you Canadian?”
RJ chuckled and shook their head slightly. “No. But as a kid I just kind of decided she was my favorite player and that was that. Figured after a month I should finally just bite the bullet and watch the damn game.”
“Mmmm, yeah, retirement games are hard to watch. She’s still playing one more year for the Thorns though, yeah?” Leah finished the last of her wine and caught Colin’s eye, signally for another glass.
“She is. But that doesn’t make watching this any easier.” RJ picked up their phone and waved it before unlocking it. Leah couldn’t help but notice that their background looked like an abstract black and white print of some sort. Once RJ had the game queued up they set it back on the bar top. “You’re welcome to watch. But I won’t bother you if you wish to continue what you were doing.” They hit the play button on the screen.
“Thank you. I think I might try to finish this chapter of the book I was reading.” Leah turned back to her phone as Colin placed RJ’s drink down and refilled Leah’s wine glass. The pair sat in companionable silence as Leah continued reading.
“Who do you think is going to take the armband in the future?” Leah broke the silence after putting her phone down. “Sinc has been captain far longer than I can remember.”
“Fleming.” JR’s said with a seconds hesitation.
“Seriously? She’s so young?”
RJ turned in their chair and looked Leah straight in the eye. “Really?” They paused for a moment. “You, the youngest captain in England history, is going to say that Jessie Fleming, who is 25, is too young.”
“Oh. Yeah I see your point.”
“Aside from her age.” RJ turned back. “She’s been a regular fixture on the national team for about 9 years. When Sinc and Schmidt stepped off this field she was the 4th longest tenured player on the team.” RJ took a sip of their drink.
“You aren’t just a casual fan, are you?
RJ side-eyed Leah. “What makes you say that?”
“A casual fan generally doesn’t know those types of statistics for a player who don’t play for their team”
“How do you know she doesn’t play for “my team”?” RJ used air quotes. “She may not play for the US, but.”
“Ew. You’re a Chelsea fan?” Leah dramatically recoiled further from RJ who just laughed.
“No.” RJ smiled. A full bright, cheerful smile. “I am a fan of the players individually, especially Fishel and Macario. But not the team as a whole.”
“Do you even have a WSL team?” Leah raised an eyebrow.
“I do.” RJ smirked. “And don’t worry. They wear the right shade of red.” They leaned back in their seat. “Can I ask you something? None football related and not terribly personal.” They rushed out the last bit. “And you obviously don’t have to answer.”
“Well with those conditions, sure.”
RJ tilted their head. “If you hadn’t become a pro footballer, what would you have chosen to do?”
“Probably an accountant or something like that. I’m pretty good with numbers and enjoy that there is always an answer to any problem.”
“Figures.”
“What’s that s’pose to me?” Leah asked, offended by the assumption, regardless of what it was.
“You play football like a mathematician, calculated.”
“Oh.” Leah adjusted in her seat, sitting up a bit straighter. “Thank you.”
RJ just hummed in response.
“What about you? You obviously know what I do and now what I would do.” Leah relaxed a bit in her chair. “Colin said you did something in media, I think.”
RJ glanced down the bar at the mentioned bartender. “Digital media.”
“What do you do in digital media? That seems like a, a very broad field. And do you work for a company in the UK?”
RJ took a long slow sip of their drink, clearly stalling as they then swirled the liquid in the glass before answering. “The company is US based. I do a lot of behind the scenes stuff, sometimes editing, camera work, desk stuff.”
Leah picked up her phone. “Must be a small company if you’re doing all of that. Is there an Insta page I can check out? Give a like.”
“Yes, we have an Instagram account.”
“Okay. What’s the name of the company?” Leah had the app open and was just waiting.
RJ had their glass to their lips when they answered. “-third.”
“What was that?”
“Attacking Third.” RJ repeated.
“Really? That’s the show that covers the NWSL, right?” Leah started looking at the company's account on their app. “If they cover the NSWL, what are you doing here? Covering former NWSL players or something?”
“Something like that.”
Colin approached with a plate in hand. “Ms. Williamson, your chicken.” He slid the plate onto the bartop. “Enjoy. RJ, did you want anything?” RJ raised their now empty glass. “Be right back.”
After Colin dropped off the drink, the pair continued watching the game in silence as Leah ate her meal. Her plate was finished and cleared away when the match hit halftime. “I should get going. I have an event I need to be at tomorrow morning with the girls that will be far more mentally draining than 90 minutes on the pitch.”
RJ chuckled. “I can only imagine.”
The footballer gave the other patron a soft smile. “It was good to see you again. Maybe we’ll get lucky again.”
“I’ll get my hopes up.” They smiled. “Have a good evening Ms. Williamson.”
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lucysarah-c · 2 days
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What do you think about Levi not mentioning Farlan and Isabel throughout the anime? They were literally his first real friends and family. Even in their deaths he was frustrated. But strangely we don't see any flashback scenes about them or Levi talking about them. It's obviously disturbing to me.
I have an Oc an underground childhood friend that I ship with Levi in particular and I didn't write their story down, but it makes me think that if my character was in danger or if she died with Farlan and Isabel or if she ended up dying long after their deaths, Levi would never remember her or talk about her, just like Farlan and Isabel's deaths, and that bothers me.
I know it's a bit strange to get this kind of analysis-like question since you are a Levi writer's blog. But since I love your writings and I really liked and found comfort in your answer to anon's question about whether Levi likes weak people. Because I am also a person who gets caught up in rumors and doubts whether Levi will like us or not haha.
Anyway, I don't want to deviate too much from the subject and make it too weird. You can answer question if you want.
Hi, sweetie! Oh, I see. Yes, I understand where you're coming from. First of all, I'd like to thank you for saying that you love my writing, and I'm so happy you found comfort in my answer about Levi and a "weak person." It's alright that we get lost in what the fandom discusses too frequently; it has happened to me too. And do not worry, rest assured, I don't find these "analysis questions" weird at all. Though my analysis will never be as good as my close friends', like my friend Sushi who used to have a meta-analysis blog of SnK or Cosmic! They are beyond amazing.
But to answer your question, before I get lost in my thoughts, long story short, Isayama is extremely bad at writing emotional connections in my humble opinion. In my personal group chat with my SnK close friends, we discuss this in great detail at least twice per week haha. In my opinion, Isayama is a writer or a storyteller who struggles to find a balance between keeping the plot going and creating a cohesive society and interrelationships between characters. I personally think that the story was always advancing so fast, full gas, no stop, that we hardly got any real details about the characters that made them human beyond their mere roles in the story.
I always use as an example, if one chapter in the manga or anime started with different panels of the veterans getting ready and sitting down all together for a meeting, we could have seen how their personal chambers were, how their interactions were not only between them aside the presence of the cadets, but we could have also seen how they confront early mornings, if they had paintings of loved ones, flowers on their desks, etc. It would have taken ... 5-10 pages at most, and we could have learned so much. It's something I even keep in mind while planning my own stories; I have an entire notebook of "backstory" for all the characters of Holy Ground, canon or not. So when the time comes around, I can drop little details of their lives here and there because... Let's be honest, has someone ever sat down next to you and said "here, let me tell you my whole life"? No, usually, you get to know someone organically, and that's also what, in my opinion, should happen in stories.
Now, going back to why Levi doesn't talk about Farlan and Isabel. Well, my best answer to you is, sadly, another question. Tell me one scene in the whole anime or manga where Levi was having some quality time with someone he felt comfortable enough to open up and talk about fond memories, be vulnerable, or even crack a joke about some silly hormonal stuff he did as a young man with Farlan. Tell me, I will wait... Haha.
Levi doesn't talk about Farlan or Isabel because he doesn't have screen time to talk about almost anything besides the plot moving haha. I would put my hands on a burning fire and swear that Farlan and Isabel are still extremely important to Levi! And so would be your OC! Don't let Isayama's literary limitations fence your story. That's my best advice; explore feelings that he didn't have the production time for (perhaps he wasn't allowed to write about it because of financial stuff) or he simply wasn't good at it.
Hope that helps!
Love ya!
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beatrixstonehill2 · 9 hours
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"Ughhhh, it happened again! I swear this is almost every time I go out these days, it's getting ridiculous! I was out running errands, about to get some coffee, when I took a moment to hold my belly and pant a bit. You know, normal contractions every girl carrying quintuplets gets like constantly. I'm only six months along! But I guess an ambulance parked nearby saw it and, well, you know the new laws. Basically pregnant girls are public property, and at least in my line of work (school teacher), I have to maintain a pregnant physique or I can get fined, even lose my job. Same with healthcare, food service, retail, hospitality.... Most jobs, honestly. Welcome to Georgia, I guess. Still happy I got transferred here a couple years ago but these laws are a bit out of hand.....
Speaking of which! The ambulance pulls up, two men come out. I try to stop them but they insist on testing me for signs of labor. I explain that I'm only six months and they tell me to be quiet so they can do their jobs. They remove my clothes with scissors and shoot me up with some kind of opioid that makes me really loopy and high. They take me to the hospital as the men take videos of me on their phones, spreading my legs, showing off my pussy, spreading it open under the guise of looking for how dilated I am. But they were literally playing with my pussy, rubbing it, sticking their fingers in with gloves, shoving instruments into it. At one point about seven different instruments were jammed into my pussy and I came, squirted all over. They got mad and told me if I act up like that they can't perform their jobs. I apologized for cumming.
They took me in and surprise-surprise, the ER was full of pregnant girls. Some were texting on their phones, shaking their heads as they got C-sections, filming themselves having it done, as others impatiently waited to be stitched up afterwards, grumbling about just wanting to go home and get knocked up again already. Aloof male nurses and physicians would pass them by and tell them not to be so impatient, that they were very busy...... mostly just probing and abusing cute pregnant girls.
They ran their 'tests'..... again, happened to me just a few days ago. So I'm used to it. They squeeze my tits and got 'milk samples'. I have to give them urine samples, over and over, as I piss with no privacy in a busy auditorium they used as an ER, full of girls like me, with various lines for either labor, forced C-sections, or general 'testing'. They of course gave me an enema, in a crowded room, complaining about the mess I was making as other girls were subjected to the same in one corner that was all tile with some showerheads. We were sprayed off and dried off as they had salon workers there doll us up before we were subjected to 'labor sensitivity testing'.
I tried explaining that I'm six months but they had ten different men with huge cocks fuck my pussy. A few even tried my ass, too, to see if I was susceptible to being induced. Nope. My womb can handle all the punishment Georgia can throw at it. I commute on public transportation, doesn't matter how pregnant I am, men try to fuck the babies out of me, like, every day. No luck! So, after that they told me I was OK'd to go home, as my babies weren't quite big enough for them to put me in the C-section area with all those other bored influencer girls.
So, with my hospital bracelet, purse, and jewelry as my only clothing, they spanked me on my way out the door of the hospital and told me not to be a stranger. I walked home naked, got fucked about ten times on the way back. I was even paid by a few guys who thought I was turning tricks. Guess I can add whore to my resume now. I even got fucked in line, paying for my coffee. The man behind me didn't say a word. I started paying and he just rammed his cock in me and started fucking me. Big fat nerdy guy, but his cock was big. Probably hasn't showered in a week. Instead of telling him to stop having his way with me, another cashier opened a different register, and they said nothing until he came inside me, spanked me, then smacked my belly a few times while climaxing. The cashier finally told me I was holding up the line after that, and I left, not before one of my neighbors fucked me as I checked our mailbox. He apologized afterword and told me I look incredibly sexy so pregnant. I thanked him and reminded him I'm only six months.... Now it's time for a shower. After that I might go back out. Who knows.... another ambulance might spot me. ❤️"
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Text
Helpless part 40, It is very often nothing but our own vanity that deceives us
"Neeks, you awake?"
"What time is it?" The Hades child mumbled, pushing his hair out of his face.
"11:24."
"How the fuck am I still tired?"
"Because you still need to catch up on sleep and you're off drugs medical and others after a while so you're still adjusting."
"I'll be honest I didn't process half of that." Will rolled his eyes teasingly, walking over to mess up his hair more than it already was. Will started to look through some files he'd brought in with himself as Nico started to get ready,
"Can I braid your hair?"
"You know how to braid?"
"Not very well, but Kayla made me learn a few years ago before she had to let Aussi cut her hair on a dare."
"I can imagine how well that went, but sure." Will sat next to him, brushing out and parting his hair before starting to do a french braid. "Do you have the second volume of Heartstopper?" Will laughed, quickly kissing Nico on the cheek.
"I can't believe I thought you were straight but yes, I have all the books."
"I can't believe I thought you were straight."
"Think you were the only one Neeks."
"Oh shut up Solace."
"Don't think I will di Angelo."
"Gods save me."
"What do you want to eat?"
"Nothing." He answered almost instantly,
"Not an option."
"I'm not hungry." He promptly ignored him and pulled out three ceral bars from his pocket,
"Pick one."
"Leave me alone."
"Do you feel sick?"
"I- I- just... can't, drop it William."
"I'll leave them here, just eat when you can, alright?" He said, half hugging him.
"Fine."
"Nico, have you considered talking to someone? Maybe keeping a journal as well?"
"Only if you'll also get help." He couldn't think of something he wanted to do less but Will needed help, desperately.
"It's not your job to worry about me."
"Will, I'm your boyfriend, it really is."
"Are you comfortable with the idea of talking to someone?" He was fine, he knew he was worthless what's the point of lying to himself.
"N-no." Fuck, this wasn't going the way he hoped.
"Nico, you don't need to do anything that you aren't comfortable with, that won't help. Also... I'm sorry about last night.. I- it's- yeah I'm just sorry."
"Will, no one's perfect, you need help, please, just try to."
"Neeks, I'm fine, really. I was just shocked last night and yeah, there have been a lot of people in the infirmary because of the war normally it's just less hectic." Lying through his teeth, he hated himself for it but that's fine, just another thing to add to the endless list. He wasn't Nico's responsibility, he doesn't need anything else on his mind.
"Just, take a break every now and then, I swear you're always working."
"Actually Kayla's ban me from working for the rest of the week soooooo."
"Good, you need it. Wait does that mean I don't get to see you for a week?"
"Nope, you can't get rid of me that easily. Apparently I'm too much of a simp for that, but I have a feeling she's timing it to make sure I don't spend the whole day here."
"I can see that happening, but you need a break so she is completely right."
"I really hate you sometimes di Anglo."
"I know." He whispers, blowing the son of Apollo a kiss.
"Solace, times up!"
"Better go Sunshine, also... I'll try journaling, I don't know if it'll help but I'll try."
"I'm proud of you Neeks," He ruffled his hair before pressing a soft kiss to his lips, he kissed him back, wrapping his hands around his neck."I'll see you soon."
***
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damagedintellect · 10 hours
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ADA Dazai x Reader
💌Obligatory sex pollen fic I guess?? chapter 2💌
Summary: Certain abilities Dazai can dispel outright without touching the user. This has always confused the brunette greatly where the technical line was drawn. During Q's apocalypse, he couldn't bring individuals back to their senses but with Shiwabusa's fog he could prevent Chuuya’s ability from manifesting. Apparently this “Sex pollen” ability was more like the former example. Which left Dazai the only one conscious of their actions as everyone fucked like rabbits.
Notes: Based on a dream I had a few nights ago....This chapter is shorter because I started waking up once I realized it was THAT DREAM, I'm literally crying it got a second chapter some one help😭
Contains: sex pollen, dubcon, pregnancy, mpreg, pregnant Fyodor, Fyodor being painfully religious, 🍋 in chapter 1
💌 Wordcount 1,971 💌 Chapter 2 of ?? [If I have another dream I am obligated to update this] <= Previous chapter
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Just like that for a few weeks everything was back to some semblance of normalcy. Out of sight out of mind you guess. Once you stopped feeling sick all the time you could hardly tell you were pregnant at all. You were still confined to the office since it would take anywhere from 3 to 6 months to fully heal from your injuries but that was fine with you. Honestly you don’t understand how Dazai does it. You've been pampered by Yosano's ability. It didn't even occur to you that you'd still have to have some sort of physical therapy afterwards either. Meanwhile Dazai gets shot and stabbed all the goddamn time and he takes it like a champ. Just one more reason to like him you guess.
Dazai looked up to catch you staring. You didn’t look away but your face did start to feel warm. You hadn’t really sat down and talked about it in depth yet. That night or about the child and honestly no one in the office has really tried to bring it up either. Although you still don't know what to say, sooner or later someone has to say something and hopefully it won't have to be you. Unfortunately you have a feeling it's going to be you.
Dazai glanced at the door and frowned. He's been trying to avoid any meaningful confrontation but judging from the sounds outside he swallowed. He knew those footsteps better than anyone and it was only a matter of time before “he” showed up. This might as well be happening today. Without warning Chuuya emerged from the doorway looking annoyed. 
“Okay, which one of you is the weretiger!”
Atsushi hesitantly raised his hand. You raised an eyebrow at the exchange. What was the mafia executive doing looking for Atsushi? Dazai sighed and rose to his feet, putting an arm around Atsushi as Chuuya approached the two. 
“Why Chuuya, what brings you out to our domain! I almost didn't see you there, have you gotten shorter?” He smiles cheerfully. You swear you could see flowers and sparkles surrounding him.
Chuuya crossed his arms “Go to hell and wait your turn. I have a bone to pick with you after I square away business with the tiger boy.” He glared at Atsushi, sizing him up. “And you, my boy Akutagawa hasn't been the same since your guy's little rescue operation. Mind telling me why that is?” It was surprisingly less threatening and more of a genuine question.
Atsushi’s face flushed a few shades darker “Why don't you ask him! He's the one who-” He stopped mid sentence, groaning. He figured Akutagawa wouldn't talk about it to anyone either but being asked directly because Akutagawa was out of sorts was insulting. How did he think Atsushi felt? “You know what, the bottom line is I'm pregnant and it's his fault he used his stupid ability like that. If anything I should be the one who's traumatized!” 
Chuuya hummed, putting his hand under his chin as he thought about an earlier encounter. “Oh so that's why he was muttering about being bound to the weretiger. He was saying something about not even holding hands yet and having to marry you. Guess that makes me the godfather for two babies then.” the redhead shrugged like this conversation was an everyday occurrence.
Atsushi slouched, was this karma for trying to suggest that Fyodor and Nikolai should get married? 
“Don’t tell me Akutagawa is religious too.”
Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows. “What? No listen kid, this is about stepping up to responsibilities. Raising a kid's a big deal.” He looked over at Dazai with a smirk about to add one more thing but Dazai interjected, flicking the brim of Chuuya's hat.
He continued to wave his hand in the other's face. “Who said you were the godfather? I don't remember calling you.” Both of their expressions went flat for a moment as they glared at each other passively.
“You should have, it would have been better to hear the news from you than from Mori.” He huffed “Why didn't you? It's not like you to go back on your word. What happened too, I wouldn't lie about something like this.” He mocked in a Dazai like fashion.
“I thought you were too drunk to remember that!” Dazai whined.
“Yeah well I also remember promising to be your best man if you ever lived long enough to find someone.” Chuuya leaned back into his hip “So?” the redhead crossed his arms, waiting.
“So what?” Dazai said matter of factly. As the two stared back at each other, Atsushi finally sat down. Why did they have to do this at his desk?
“So what? You're not even going to introduce me!”
Dazai rolled his eyes. Is that really what Chuuya came here for? When Chuuya walked in you had gotten up from your desk to make tea. As you brought the cups over Dazai walked around you and put his hand on your shoulder “(Y/N), Chuuya, Chuuya, (Y/N). There, you happy?”
“Wait (Y/N)? You mean your-” Dazai cut him off but Chuuya looked surprised. You wonder what he was going to say. It sounded important.
Dazai pankicked and grabbed the other from behind covering his mouth as he dragged him out into the hallway. “Nope that's it you overstayed your welcome.” 
Once the door shut Ranpo pouted “I'm pregnant too ya know. I wouldn't mind Mr. Fancy hat being the godfather.” He puffed out his cheeks.
Atsushi rolled his eyes. “That's all you got from that!”
Ranpo sighed “No, I also got the image of Akutagawa tying you up so thanks for that.” 
Atsushi stood up so fast his chair nearly fell over. “How can everybody speak about it so casually!” 
He looked over to you with pleading eyes. Atsushi was probably hoping you'd back him up. Instead you laughed, handing him the disregarded tea. 
“Well for starters only the adults are here today and the more you talk about it the less power it has.” You handed the detective another cup. “Although instead of putting you on the spot Ranpo should have asked if you wanted to talk about it first or at least opened up about his experience.”
He took a sip of tea before shrugging. Ranpo didn't mind sharing at all in fact he’s glad someone asked about it. “Not much to say really. Poe hugged me from behind and by the time I realized he wasn't doing it to be cute I just kinda went with it.” Ranpo shrugged with a smile on his face. “I'm more curious what happened with Kunikida!”
The blonde tensed as you set the last cup down in front of him. He had stopped his typing as a bead of sweat dripped down the side of his face. “Do I have too?” Out of everyone in the office Kunikida had been the one trying the hardest to skirt around the conversations. He wanted to forget it ever happened. It was bad enough that Dazai would tease him about it whenever they were alone.
Ranpo hummed “Akiko's really careful because she could never give up drinking for that long, so since you're not forced into being a dad, dealer's choice?” You all nodded in agreement, it only seemed fair since you were putting him on the spot.
Kunikida pushed up his glasses. You assume he probably doesn't want to share. Instead he turns to address you. “Which reminds me, I thought Yosano gave you a contraceptive too?”
“I was so exhausted I forgot it was in my pocket and never took it.” You frowned. It didn't feel like a priority in the moment but like most of them you were out of it. “But forced parenting aside, right now this is about sexual trauma.”
 Kunikida cleared his throat “I wouldn't know what to share. I turned to look at Yosano and the next thing I know we're kissing in a passionate manner.” He paused wondering if he should say something about the elephant in the room. “Also this should go without saying, but no one is forcing you to be a parent. Ranpo and Atsushi might not have a choice but there's still plenty of time for you to think it over. No one would stop you if you decided you're not ready to be a mother.” This was true but your mind was already made up. 
Somehow only Ranpo knew of your crush? You thought it was fairly obvious. Had it been anyone else you probably would have gotten rid of it by now. 
Ranpo laughed before you could answer, sharing his two cents. “Who said I don't have a choice? I'm choosing to have this little munchkin! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity to see what me and Poe create. Besides, I've always wanted a mini me!” He patted his stomach proudly.
Atsushi sipped on his tea “That's true. So in a weird way it kind of worked out for you and Poe huh. At least one of us lucked out.” He’s been avoiding Akutagawa as much as possible ever since that night.
Ranpo snickered, “I would say two of us lucked out.” He draped one around your shoulder opening his eyes to give you a smug look. “Well you care to share with the class? This was your idea after all.” 
So that’s why he bothered to bring all of this up. You sighed in defeat. “Lucked out my ass!” Your cheeks were red as Atsushi and Kunikida gave you incredulous looks “Keep in mind Dazai was fully conscious of his actions. He kind of just let me get it out of my system in hope that I would eventually snap out of it,” You groaned hiding your face in your hands “and yes, apparently I was begging him to fuck a baby into me. Is that what you wanted to hear, Ranpo!”
Ranpo blinked a few times “You didn't have to go that far but yeah I was just trying to get you to mention your crush on Dazai.”
“You have a crush on Dazai?!” Both Atsushi and Kunikida shouted. Kunikida nearly spat out his tea. You groaned “That’s why I was planning on keeping the child but I feel like I'd be baby trapping him.”
“It’s not baby trapping if you decide to keep the child, it's your body. I already told you that you have the final say.”
Everyone slowly turned their heads back to see Dazai coming back into the office. You swallowed “How much of that did you hear?”
“Not much but you already told me your reason for wanting to keep the kid.” He shrugged nonchalantly and everyone wiped their heads back to you.
Atsushi was dumbfounded. “Wait a second, let me get this straight. He knows that you-”
Dazai spoke over him. “-Always wanted kids, it's not that big of a deal. Unless that's not what we're talking about?” He tilted his head to the side. Did he miss something? It took a lot out of him to turn Chuuya away especially after the stupid slug made his own revelations about the situation. 
You released the breath you were holding. Everyone else understood Dazai was just as oblivious to your feelings as always. Eventually you would have to tell him but it was still early enough in the process to figure that out. At least everyone else in the office knew why you’ve been acting weird since that night.
Kunikida groaned at the realization. “I don't know if I can handle a mini Ranpo running around, let alone a mini Dazai.” He went back to his work. “It’s bad enough having to work with Dazai as is.”
You laughed as the two tried to defend themselves.
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We are halfway through another week, my friends, and so we have yet another recc list for you! This week, we have twelve angsty fics! As always, you can find them below the cut and if you check any of them out, I encourage you to leave kudoes and comments to spread the rarepair love 💕
I Have Been A Fool For Lesser Things by A_Orbit (3,149 words, Teen) Pairing: Veth Brenatto/Caleb Widogast (Widobrave) Warnings: None
Trying to get a hotel room for the night leads to Caleb and Nott pretending to be married to each other. Fluff and angst.
Reccer Says: Amazing character voices!
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Looking for a feeling that I can't remember by CatcherWrites (2,684 words, Teen) Pairing: Ashton Greymoore/Laudna Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Swearing, General Laudna and Ashton Trauma
Team Issylra are making camp by a river when Ashton and Laudna discuss how slow their hair grows. Angsty conversations ensue and they make a pact to cut each others hair.
Reccer Says: It's not too heavy of a fic but that doesn't take away from the tragic implications.
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The Last Safe House in Rexxentrum by Operafloozy (13,266 words, Explicit) Pairing: Astrid Beck/Original Female Character Warnings: Unhappy Ending, Modify Memory, Discussion of Feeblemind
Five years before a group of misfits came together in Trostenwald, Astrid Beck asks a stranger to look into some potentially modified memories.
Reccer Says: It's a juicy and complicated look at how Astrid might have reacted to Bren's escape, from an outsider's point of view.
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polishing the apple eris threw to shake the dead leaves down by grayintogreen (3,558 words, Teen) Pairing: Cree Deeproots/Lucien Tavelle Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Minor Character Death
A Locked Tomb fusion fic featuring Necromancer!Cree and Cavalier!Lucien and the horrifying implications of the Lyctor process.
Reccer Says: I enjoyed it!
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though the scars remain by amateurwordbender (1,472 words, Teen) Pairing: Astrid Beck/Eadwulf Grieve (Blumenduo) Warnings: Implied/Referenced Torture
Astrid is punished for letting the Mighty Nein escape, and she and Eadwulf talk about it.
Reccer Says: So much juicy Blumentrio angst packed in one short fic! Several of the lines in this have stayed in my head since I first read it.
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Victim of Convenience by se1ze (54,243 words, Explicit) Pairing: Kingsley Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (Shadowidoking) Warnings: Sex While Sick
Essek has been bailing Kingsley out of legal trouble in Rosohna and letting him crash at his towers for some time and the pair have grown close. When Essek falls severely ill, Kingsley with him to look after him. Things escalate between them, which both are pleased about. There's just one complication, in the form of one Caleb Widogast, who Essek has recently begun a relationship with and who Kingsley has been hopelessly pining after for months. Things get messy.
Reccer Says: A wonderful combination of fun dynamics, messy relationship angst, sickfic goodness, and hot sex. Kingsley and Essek are such a good pair, I love their banter. The absolutely disastrous state of King and Caleb's relationship at the start is the fic is so heartaching, with the shadow of past Widomauk hanging over them. And the recently established Shadowgast compliments both of those duos so well!!! I adore the different complications that crop up along the way and the way they're all resolved in the end. Highly recommend! Also, the two previous entries in the series are excellent, though they're just Shadowgast on their own.
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His Last Night by Twistmalchik (2,617 words, Explicit) Pairing: Thorn/Vax'ildan Warnings: None
Set during the events of Kith & Kin, Vax's first kiss with Thorn leads to his first time with him. All the while, the shadow of the Shademaster hangs over them.
Reccer Says: I adore Kith & Kin to no end and I loved Vax and Thorn's relationship. This is a fun expansion of what they were able to have together during the events of the book!
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Time Will Tell by DEV0URMOUS (25,639 words, Mature) Pairing: Yussa Errenis/Original Male Character Warnings: None
Yussa invites Iskamyr, a long-time friend of his from the Dynasty, on a trip into the Happy Fun Ball with him. Both are oblivious to the other's long-standing feelings for them. Pining ensues.
Reccer Says: There is no fic that demonstrates the absurdity of wizards better than this. Two hundred years!!! These idiots pined over each other for two hundred years!!! Oh my god! It's great, it's so great. They're both 1200 years old (Yussa is a dragon and Iskamyr is consecuted) and they're still terrible at feelings. But also! A lot of it comes down to cultural misunderstandings, like Iska doesn't know until the fic ends that Yussa is a dragon and if he did, maybe he would've caught on to Yussa's affection sooner. But he didn't and it took the two of the forever and honestly I love that for them.
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woven of (moon)light by viciousmollymaukery (2,315 words, Teen) Pairing: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (Shadowidomauk) Warnings: References to severe injury
After his wizards Teleport into the middle of the Blooming Grove, nearly dead at the hands of an Aeorian creature, Molly has a lot of feelings about his partners and their mysterious city in the north. Luckily, he has a simple solution in mind.
Reccer Says: It's the perfect balance between sweet and angsty. I love Shadowidomauk so much and it's fun to see someone look at how the wizards Aeor expeditions might look in a world where they're dating Molly too! Also, Moonweaver cleric Molly is too damn perfect, I love it so much.
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it's 3 am (I must be lonely) by Meridas (1,024 words, Teen) Pairing: Queerplatonic Mollymauk Tealeaf/Yasha Nydoorin Warnings: None
Yasha has a nightmare while out camping alone. She calls Molly in her panic and he comforts her.
Reccer Says: I love this series so much and this entry in particular has stuck with me since I first read it!! QPP circus kids are kind of everything to me and this is just such a perfect little snippet of them; they’re hurting but they love and take care of each other above anything.
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I blame it on my own sick pride by MarsBar2019 (11,918 words, Explicit) Pairing: Fjord/Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast (Widofjolly) Warnings: Non-Consensual Voyeurism
Fjord overheard Molly and Caleb having sex one night and gets off on it. But paper thin inn walls work both ways, Molly and Caleb know Fjord heard them, and they take the opportunity to invite him into their bed.
Reccer Says: It’s very very hot and Fjord’s self-loathing (which is only amplified by him getting off on listening to the two of them) is such a fun complimentary pairing to the overall horniness of the fic.
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I'll crawl home to him by BananasofThorns (20,262 words, Teen) Pairing: Queerplatonic Fjord/Caleb Widogast (Widofjord) Warnings: None
AU where Caleb and Fjord met a few years pre-nein. Now Fjord has been taken by the Iron Shepherds, and Caleb has to team up with the "Mighty Five" to have a chance to get him back.
Reccer Says: Looove that Iron Shepherds arc angst. Plus queerplatonic widofjord, and the *devotion,* like Caleb was willing to go in there after him *alone,* aaaaa
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Thank you for joining us this week’s recc list! All the love to everyone who submitted a fic 💕 All enclosed recommendations were submitted by the community via our submissions form, which you can find here. All fic information is as it was provided by the reccer, so it may not be accurate to the author’s intent or the precise contents of the fic itself. Please assume good intent from all parties 💕
Submissions for next week’s list are already open! We’ll be featuring Spring. If you have any you’d like to highlight, you can send them in here. The week after that, the theme is Jester Rarepairs and the weeks after that we’re taking recommendations for Alternate Universes and Hurt/Comfort! Submissions for all of these themes are currently open.
If you want more rarepair fic, check out @cr-summer-wildflowers and their event collections on ao3! If you want some friendship after all this romance, take a look at @critter-genfic-events and their recc lists! And if you’re interested in everyone’s favorite wizards, you can’t go wrong with the lists at @aeor-is-for-reccing !
Thanks all and have a lovely day/night/timezone! 💕
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azaracyy · 3 months
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but the world as she knows no longer exists. digimon survive week 2024 day 1: a new world thoughts under cut. spoilers alert. if you haven't completed the game, proceed at your own risk. you have been warned.
i feel so much for miyuki. the girl who got lost and forgotten. even the best possible ending offered in the game leaves many questions as open possibilities. how is she going to live her life now? how will she deal with living in a new world where it's nothing like the one she used to live in? pretty sure nearly all of the people she knew are no longer alive. her younger brother is now an elderly. this is why digimon survive deserves a sequel. i need to know all that lol. here is my personal headcanon / wish, though: exploring how miyuki, at the core, struggles with everything, including accepting the current reality she is in. despite starting to get used to living in the modern world, she can never, for one, imagine her younger brother dying before her. haru, her only family whom she likely can't even communicate properly with in public without people turning heads and wondering why the old man calls the young girl "big sis". that's probably when something can happen involving takuma co. as they themselves try/struggle to integrate their kemonogami partners into daily life, where it could ultimately end with miyuki getting to "catch up" or get turned into the age and appearance she is supposed to be (i'm delusional) if someone already explored and/or wrote a fic about it, please link it to me... if you who are reading this plans to write about it, please tag me when you finish it... i'm more desperate than i look haha 😭
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akkivee · 4 months
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he’s………….. palm sized……………………
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danwhobrowses · 4 months
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So no more CR until next year, which means sadly CritRoleStats will close its metaphorical doors before next episode. Does anyone know if there's any other avenues to keep up with future episodes? UK Time Zones and being at my job do get in the way of watching the streams.
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leosmasktails · 6 months
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Guys I’m in love with Donny Osmond’s voice it’s the most angelic thing ever
Like especially when he sang “Close Every Door” at Royal Albert Hall-
LIKE-
GIRLLLLLL
THAT BITCH BE ON REPEAT 24/7 365
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kimmkitsuragi · 2 months
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if i dont see my friends tomorrow i will literally die
#i know im always so dramatic about this but im so alone it's pathetic.......#like everyone always has other people and im always asking people to pleeeeease pay attention to me like a pathetic dog#i keep asking people 'so are we meeting this week' 😥 like i swear im always asking this#and i just feel so pathetic about this like. heeyyy hiii please meet me someone im so normal hahaha pleaseeee 😥#and i dont want to blame people because like yeah. life. in general#but also it just keeps happening how we specifically set up a possible time and#then that time comes and TO ME it's supposed to be like the best day ever. literally the only time i can ever feel happiness. ONLY time fr#and then it's just another thursday for them like they promised someone else something.#and then i have to be like okay :') what about next week x day then :')#and then i ALWAYS end up making myself believe that this time it's actually gonna work out!!!! really!!!!!!!#and then it never does!!!!!! for such a long time!!!!#and i know like. whatever. life. it's literally normal i know and im not blaming them i really am not#but im just blaming myself for being so pathetic that the only sliver of happiness in my life is#meeting other people every few weeks if im lucky lmao#like. truly loser behavior#before anyone says i should meet new people maybe. that's true probably#but. :')#that post that goes like 'how it feels to be in a transitional period in your life' lmaoooooooooooo ooooo ooooo you know#anyway. i will probably delete this when i realize how unwell i sound but. well#🗒
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apricote · 11 months
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aged up fen into a teen yesterday and he was not that weird looking he was when i did it in cas?? kinda dreamy tbh
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moshieee · 3 months
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Ew, essays :[
I miss the old days of kindergarten when we attempted to color butterflies and ate erasers and glue
-🎁
I hated kindergarten
Essays may suck but at least now I'm not the weird kid in the corner wishing I had friends
However yes I absolutely despise essays with all my being... in fact!
Achievement unlocked: you somehow found a topic moshie hates enough and on a bad day to start them ranting in the tags...
Warning there are curse words, poor spelling, and caps locks
Sorry in advance
#asks#off topic#seriously tho i hate essays so much#one of them is already 5 pages and thats just the rough draft#i better get a fucking high pass on that shit or i will scream#shes actually making us focus on out writing process and OH HO.HO BOY IS MINE A MESS#I SWEAR ITS LIKE TRYING TO MAKE A SKETCH BUT YOU KEEP PAINTING CERTAIN PARTS BECAUSE IT HAS TO LOOK NICE#ONLY TO RELIZE OH WAIT MAYBE THAT DOESN'T GO THERE AND I SHOULD ACTUALLY SHIFT IT AROUND#OR MAYBE I COULD SWAP THIS TOO BE THAT LOOKS AWFUL AND IT JUST KEEPS GETTING WORSE AND WORSE TILL ITS A RIVER OF BLOOD AND PAINT#AND SHE WANTS TO SEE MY ROUGH DRAFT??? HONNEY YOU WOULD HAVE A BETTER CHANCE AT READING THE MARIO SUNSHINE SPEEDRUN CATEGORY BACKWARDS THEN#UNDERSTANDING WHAT THE FUCK IM TRYING TO WRITE ITS WHY I HAVE TO WRITE IT ALL IN ONE GO OTHERWISE I HAVE TO LOOK BACK AND UNDERSTAND WHAT#WAS GOING THROUGH MY HEAD WHILE LOOKING THROUGH THIS MESS!!! OOOHH WHAT? YOU WANT ME TO ORGANIZE THIS WELL SHIT THATS GOING TO TAKE EVEN#LONGER YOU ALREADY GOT ME WRITING WHY DO YOU HAVE TO MAKE ME STOP MUCH LESS MAKE ME SWITCH SUBJECTS TO ANOTHER ESSAY HALF WAY THROUGH OH BU#AND GUESS WHAT!???? ONE PAGE! DOUBLE SPACE! AND IM NOT GOING TO GIVEN GIVE YOU A DIRECTION TO WRITE IN JUST ANYTHING ABOUT WHAT WE LEARNED#IN THESE LAST TWO WEEKS! TWO WEEKS FUCKING HELL DO YOU KNOW HOW INDECISIVE AND FORGETFUL I AM??? MUCH LESS THE FACT KTS ABOUT ETHNICS#I DIDNT EVEN EANT TO TAKE AN ETHNICS CLASS I WANTED ETHICS I FUCKING HATE EVERY SO MUCH RIGHT NOW#LIKE YEA SURE I KNOW THEY'RE IMPORTANT BUT I STILL HATE ESSAYS and j know my teachers are trying their best...#but jeese ethnics is such a difficult topic because on one had yea i relate to what these people are going through im part of the LGBT#are statistics are very similar but im also bery much a white person and not openly trans/non binary i dont want to look like some stuck up#white person going oooo look at the poor minorities i can TotAlLy relate and now im going to talk about me#because im genuinely scared of coming out idk whos accepting and whos not at least online im safe and can block people...#jeese im sorry for the rant i shouldn't have gone on that much less my art blog#this is supposed to be a positive blog but i just need to put this somewhere or i feel im going to cry out of frustration im sorry#rant post#system#oops moshie got emotional
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orcelito · 2 years
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Still not done with the scene 3, but I've reached 10.1k words. Just a steady march through it, ALMOST done with this scene. I'd say scene 4 is a quick bout but that's gonna b the longest scene of all probably lol. At least that's what it is in concept.
This is gonna be a long chapter.
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