#Across the table so naturally you get rather close. And at one point I got somehow frustrated by smt (I wanted to tie up my hair?

[misskamelie]

Head in my hands, I'm doomed, this can't be going on for this long good grief. What the hell does my subconscious want to tell me. Hate the pms hormonal storm

[rottenherbs]

Opposites Attract F.W x f! Hufflepuff Reader

word count: 1.5k

Tags: Fluff, first meetings,

Summary: you and Fred have always caught eachothers eyes over the years but have never spoken. It isn't until you catch him trying to sneak into the kitchen 

authors notes: im such a Fred girl this was so natural to me omggggg. I also just got a request for a Harry imagine and am so damn excited for that eheheheh maybe it'll be spicer than these fluffy ones I've been doing.

//Requests are open! shoot me anything Golden Trio era <3//

Much love, Saige

————-

     It was simple. He was a quidditch player, you  were a scholar. He always got in trouble, you did your best to stay out of trouble. He came from a large family, you’re an only child. His hair red as fire and yours dark as stone. Even your  houses are completely different. It was never meant to be. 

Ever since your third year, your eyes have found their way to Fred Weasley. In the great hall when they loudly let off fireworks or in between classes when you found him asleep in the library dozed off with papers strewn across the table. You couldn’t help but to easily find him in crowds, immediately knowing whether the glowing red hair was his or his brother's George. There was something about him that captivated you.

While you kept your head low, the years went by and you crept into the castle for another year of schooling. Surrounded by other Hufflepuffs, the yellow enveloped you with every fiber of your being. Your friends followed you in hushed chuckles as you entered the great hall enjoying the feeling of being together once again. It wasn’t until you turned the corner that you found yourself scanning the hall that your eyes met his. looking away quickly you joined your friends at the hufflepuff table trying not to look his way again. 

When Fred looked at you, a sense of relief washed over his body, happy to see you came back to Hogwarts for another year. You two had this weird way of meeting each other, whether it was just locking eyes in the hallway, or being in the same place at the same time. He’s never really cared for Hufflepuffs. He found them rather toxically optimistic and quiet. His loud boisterous energy often bothered most hufflepuffs and they steered clear of each other. But you felt different. When your eyes met even for just a second it wasn’t filled with annoyance but curiosity. Fred has had his fair share of displeasing looks and can tell when someone is done with his shit. But you looked at him differently. 

Another year passed where he didn’t talk to you. His own feelings of being a teenage boy took over and he didn’t have time for girls. All he cared about was pranks and trying to do just enough to not get an owl sent back to his parents house. But over the summer he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Just the idea of you. He wasn’t confused; he knew it was a crush, but he never had these feelings be so overwhelming that it was noticeable by George. 

“mate she’s arrived” George says, nudging Fred. His eyebrows sag dramatically as Fred chuffs rolling his eyes. “But hey, you already knew that,” George finished smirking at his brother. Fred takes another look at you across the hall and feels a sense of determination to talk to you this year. No excuses. 

A few days have passed and the first week of classes is almost at an end. The first Friday of the school year has begun and most students were comfortable in their new schedules and the ecosystem of the school felt natural. Boys were messing with girls and houses already felt the clash of rivalry as students won and lost points. You got up early again and took your time getting ready knowing gryffindor and hufflepuff had Care of Magical Creatures together in the afternoon. It would be the first time you and Fred would be in close quarters, hypothetically of course as the class was in fact outside. You slipped on your socks and shoes and made your way to the common room a sense of relief knowing you had a few classes before you had to work up yourself for seeing him. A breath escapes your lips as you exit the common room and come face to face with Fred attempting to sneak into the kitchen, his hand still resting on the he doorknob frozen in place

“What you’re seeing is a figment of your imagination” Fred whispered, not moving an inch. A smile creeps over your face realizing what is happening.

“I can see you” you whisper

“No you cant” he whispers back quickly not missing a beat. You shift your weight and stand with your books on your hip. 

“Breakfast is in an hour, why are you sneaking in?” you inquire.He stays in the position you found him in. He sighs and stands up, his height towering over you making you look up to meet his gaze 

“Okay so what if I am an early eater. I’m a growing boy you know.” he says mimicking your pose, hand on his hip. 

“If you grow anymore and you’ll be through the ceiling” I say joking back. a sense of confidence coming over me. The fear of seeing him later all gone now that you were forced into this moment with him. 

“Here.” you say taking a step next to him in front of a large painting of a fruit bowl. Your hand lifts and grazes the pair tickling the painting revealing a large door that swings open. You look at Fred as his eyes widen. 

“So that's why the door wouldn’t budge” he chuffs, waiting for you to walk in first. 

“No use breaking in. Sometimes you just have to know who to ask” you smile up to him walking into the basking glow of the kitchen. Several small creatures are working on hundreds of dishes at once. The smell was overwhelming and delicious. A small house elf walks up to both of you. 

“Please can I get anything for you?” his little voice squeaks. You look at Fred as a way to show it was okay to respond. He clears his throat 

“Just a cheese toasty please…and two glasses of orange juice.” he says bowing to the small elf. A chuckle comes out of your mouth as the elf rushes to bring him what he requested. 

“This is better than sneaking in for sure.” he says, nudging you playfully. When the elf comes back his fingers snap and a set of chairs and a small table appear. 

“Please, sit, sit!” he grabs both of our hands and guides us to the small table. you were astounded at the service, never being in here while the elf’s were working. 

“oooo little brekky date eh” Fred laughs, pulling out your chair. You sit as a blush crossed your face at his notion. 

“Honestly I've had worse first dates.” he says, taking a bite of his sandwich without breaking eye contact. His confidence was unwavering and you couldn’t tell if he was just joking. 

“Yeah this is definitely a first.” you laugh nervously and grab the glass in front of you taking a small sip. 

“you know, i’ve never caught your name.” he says after a short period, his focus entirely on you. 

“it’s y/n.”  His heart warms. Finally, the name on the face of the girl he couldn’t stop thinking of. 

“Mmmm” he responds, taking another sip of juice. Before he could introduce himself 

“And you are Fred.” i say matter of factly a small smirk tugging at the corner of my lips 

“Ahh so you know me!” he says excitedly. Part of him was astounded that you were able to recognize that it was him and not his brother. Many people couldn't figure it out but you have. 

“The whole school knows of you.” you laugh back. He sits back and flips his collars 

“It's because I'm dashingly handsome.” a cocky facade taking over as his arms folded across his chest 

“Sure, something like that,” You joked, finishing your juice. You reposition my books in your hand catching a glimpse at the clock on the wall realizing your first class is only 20 minutes from now. Fred follows your eyes and disappointment flashes across his face. You had to leave. 

“Have to head out?” he says softly still sitting with his arms crossed 

“Yeah I'd hate to be late to potions.” you say glumly standing up from the table leaning on it trying to stay in this moment as long as possible. Fred nods knowingly at the wrath of Snape too well. 

“Thanks for the first date.” you say smiling down at fred. His eyes widened slightly. 

“Maybe I'll take you for a second after class later?” he says, fixing his collar and leaning forward placing his hand over yours. Your heart races at the action, the feeling of warmth spreading from your fingers throughout your body. You slip your hand from underneath to grab it for a second, squeezing it before letting it go. 

“we’ll see about that” 

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hi would u be interested in writing something about Azriel being really soft with his mate and the IC find it cute but funny to see the scary spymaster acting like a love sick puppy?

Only you my girl

Azriel was known for being as quiet as the night. For being as cold as the deepest winter. To read him was nearly impossible. He was an observer. He collected information even when others thought there was nothing important to pinpoint at that exact moment. He sat in silence. He nodded when others talked, occasionally though. Said a word or two if the situation asked for it. But for the time, his presence in family gatherings was hazy. A true shadow this man was.

And then you came into his life. At first, his secretive nature had blossomed even more. Azriel got even quieter. Even more hard to read. The day he brought you over had been rather awkward. You were his lover - that's what was stated. Yet he sat there as if you weren't right beside him. While Cassian held Nesta close. Rhys's hands were resting on Feyre's. Azriel just couldn't and you knew it. This was new. He didn't know how. He wasn't sure if this was part of him. This vulnerable part of him could be shown.

It started slow. Azriel's hand-wound lingers on your thigh beneath the table. You didn't acknowledge it at first. Because Azriel and touch was like kid and medicine. The moment you point out the inevitable existence of one and another you get a negative correlation that leads to absolute opposite outcomes.

So you let him squeeze your thigh in peace. Then came the little rubs and him reaching for your hand. His chair would be scotched closer to yours. And so the little thing unfolded. You were glad that others never brought it up either. You knew how much they cared for the shadowsinger. Cassian had made it real clear that he didn't usually fight women but that if you were to hurt Azriel he would not be responsible for his actions to which you had nodded. They all had watched the spymaster suffering alone for long enough. Everyone was happy to get fed the crumbs of his open affection. Smiling tenderly when they were lucky to catch a glimpse of it.

But then came the trouble in the camps. The boys were barely home. At one point they had been away for more than a couple of days. That had broken something in Azriel though. It was the first time he had been away for a longer period of time. He was the last to come through the door. Barely dragged his feet. Tight frown on his face. Gears in his head turned so loudly it was hard to not hear it. You pushed off the wall. Moving past the other two couples lost in their conversation.

"Hey, big boy", you muttered, stepping closer, hands reaching to clasp Azriel's palms. "I hate it when you call me that", Azriel said flatly. Yet his mind had staggered for just a moment. "Right, forgot you preferred sugar plum more", you teased him, leaning against his chest more. That made a slight chuckle slip past Azriel's lips. Even if he rolled his eyes at your nicknames Azriel enjoyed them immensely, since no one had even cared enough to give him a loving nickname before.

The spymaster looked down at your much smaller frame. Hands still intertwined. The fact that he could hear your heartbeat so clearly calmed him down. Settled his demons. "Missed you", he muttered quietly, moving his hand to cup your cheek. "I missed you so much as well. The bed was so cold without you", you hummed, pressing your cheek deeper into his palm. Loving the feeling of his rougher skin. Azriel couldn't help but smile at your words, "That's the only thing you missed?", he teased. You gasped, shaking your head, "You horny...", "Oh, who said I was implying sex, I just meant my looks and charm", Azriel sassed, his words followed by a snort across the room.

Both of you instantly turned your gazes. Azriel's arms tightened against your body as you found four sets of eyes watching you. "Look at you joking around, huh", Cassian beamed, "Now we can tease him for being badly in love", Rhys added causing the rest of the family to chuckle. You bit your lip as you felt Azriel lower his head to your shoulder. "Leave my baby alone", you said, hand now combing through Azriel's tangled curls. "Oh, a baby", Cassian made baby sounds, whining till Nesta hit his chest.

"You never learned to play nice, huh?", you said to Cassian, but before the lord of bloodshed could answer you felt cold mist starting to swirl around you as Azriel winnowed with you still in his arms. "Tell me to eat his bacon in the morning", Azriel grumbled, bringing you even closer to him. Now more than ever I need to feel you in his arms. You chuckled, "I'll help you with that", you stated before wrapping yourself around your mate's frame.

[blossombriefs]

Noodles | A Goku OneShot

Authors Note: I'd write something short and sweet while I'm on a creative high! Drop a like and a follow if you like what you're reading! I'm gonna be posting around 2/3 times a week! I'd also love to follow back other writers :3 Update: MY MASTERLIST IS NOW PINNED TO MY PAGE! Summary: You meet Goku for a blind date after being set up by a friend Content: Goku x reader, SFW, cute, gender neutral reader Word Count: 908 Words

You were ecstatic that your friend Android 18 had set you up on a date with one of her friends. It had honestly been a while since your last date and you loved everything you had heard about her friend Goku. You dressed yourself up in your cutest outfit as you left the house with a bounce in your step. The sun hung rather low in the sky which casted a warm glow over the city as you navigated your way through the crowded streets. You sometimes find it overwhelming with the amount of people around you but your head was preoccupied about your date, the man you were meeting and where this might then take you.

As you approached your meeting point, you spotted Goku standing with a hand firmly against his waist. You could see him looking around for you, dressed in his iconic orange gi which made him easily recognisable as you got closer. He stood tall, his stature was muscular and his head housed thick, black spikes. Once he had clocked your approach, he waved with a friendly smile which assisted a wave of nervous excitement to rush through you.

"Hi! Are you Goku?" you smile toward him sweetly, trying to hide the flutter in your stomach.

Goku's face lit up with a wide grin, "Yeah! Nice to meet you! You must be Y/N? 18 told me all about you!"

As the two of you exchanged pleasantries you took a moment to admire the man in front of you. His friendly, goofy, and easygoing nature was helping to put you right at ease. You guys had decided on dining at a local ramen shop, Goku held the door open for you as you both entered. The first thing to greet you both was the chime of a light bell followed by the savoury aroma of the fresh, simmering broth. You could've sworn Goku was ready to levitate towards the scent. Your stomach growled in anticipation of your meal.

Settling in at a corner booth, you took in the cosy and warming atmosphere. The restaurant wasn't busy but there were still a few patrons sitting around, none necessarily close to you which allowed for a bit more privacy. The walls were a warm brown, decorated with beautiful hand-painted art, and the ceilings were dotted with soft overhead lights that complemented the wooden tables and chairs. Goku eagerly gripped a menu, his eyes widening at the selection of ramen that the restaurant had to offer. The waiting staff approached the table and you could tell his curiosity was getting the better of him as he smiled, "We should try a little bit of everything!"

Your eyes sparkled looking across the table to your date as you nodded your head in agreement, "That sounds perfect to me!"

You engaged in some small talk, his bright personality really drew you in. He shared some stories of the recent adventures he'd shared with his friends and his intense training sessions. You nodded along enthusiastically as you told him about yourself too. It wasn't long until you were greeted by the first bowl, Goku's eyes gleaming in pure delight. You looked up at him from across the table, blushing embarrassingly as you attempted to pick up your chopsticks.

"I uh," you started, fumbling the sticks between your fingers. "I actually don't really know how these work. I'm so used to using a fork."

Responding with a smile and a gentle pat at the wooden bench beside him, he signaled with his head that he wanted to show you the ropes. "Let me help you out, c'mon!"

Just like Goku you were also up for a challenge. You perched yourself beside him as he gently took your hand in his, positioning the chopsticks in your hand as he moved your fingers to the right place. As you ate together you could feel yourself fumbling them but it would lead to shared giggles between the two of you. Gradually the waiters brought out the rest of your feast. Noodles upon noodles, sushi platters, dumplings and much more traditional Japanese cuisine. Each one you enjoyed together, even if Goku ate significantly more of the food than you could let yourself indulge in. Between each bite he couldn't help but look up at you with a smile, "This was such a good idea. I'm so glad we came here!"

You beamed to him in response, "I'm glad we did too Goku! It's been a lovely day so far."

The evening slowly unfolded under the shared laughter you had over the warm bowls of broth, vegetables and noodles. You could feel a genuine connection with him. You bonded over so much and the way he made you laugh was unlike anyone really had before.

When you both left the restaurant the streetlights illuminated the now darkened city and the streets were much more tame, most people had already headed home by this point in the night. Goku rubbed the back of his neck, smiling down to you, "This was really fun! I haven't had that much fun in such a long time!"

"Me too Goku! Thank you," you say with a shuffle of your feet and a blush. He sighed happily as he carefully took your hand in his, the same hand he helped your chopsticks into.

"So how can I contact you? You know... for the second date? If you're interested that is..."

[madameaug]

One of Your Girls: KTH x Black Reader

Pairing: Actor Taehyung x Friend zoned Black Reader

Reader is delusional (like most of us), kinda feel bad, down horrendous, love sick for sure. Kinda mopey tone

I never could have imagined myself being a The Weekend girl. A girl who was so desperate for male attention that she convinced herself that being a side-chick was okay. Uttering that stupid phrase "he knows where home is." I actively laughed and made fun of those girls. Side chicks who believed that they would one day become the wife. That the man who was dragging her along would come to his senses. That she had something special and would motivate him to change his dirty dog ways. Ha! What fools.

Yet there was a voice that didn't belong to me , reciprocating that belly-aching laugh.

Look at you in madly in love with a man who sees you as nothing more than a friend.

Even though no one was pointing that finger at me the embarrassment was swallowing me up whole. Yet again here I laid in the California King bed, alone, hoping he would still be here with me. That after he tucked me into bed, that he would be curled up beside me. I wouldn't dare allow myself to hope that maybe in our mutual intoxication, we shared this bed in a more intimate sense. That I finally escaped the isolating box of friendship. Removing the burn of being called his friend, but rather yet just his.

"Ms. Yn? Are you awake?" Judah Tae's assistant spoke on the other side of the door. Huh, I guess he knew about me staying the night. I wasn't a total fool to know that Judah coming to wake me up, was a clear sign from Tae that my window of being a guest was rapidly closing. He was too much of a coward to address me head-on and politely kick me out. So he tasked that to either his softspoken Judah or his rough-around-edges security guard Binky. At this point I would have preferred Binky to wake me up.

"I'm up, Judah." I picked up my belongings that were scattered across the ground. Nothing too serious but a bright red corset top and a slinky black maxi skirt.

"Your phone and purse are on the dining table, and your Uber is outside. No need to rush out, take your time."

Judah added that last sentence to cushion the blow that I was again getting the discreet dismissal from his boss. I was the pitiful girl who couldn't get the hint. Or perhaps refused to get the hint.

I sat in front of the vanity mirror, getting myself together. Yes, I was a bit prideful. Even though I was on the edge of another anti-climatic emotional breakdown, I'll be damned if I showed it. If fake it til I make it was a person, it would be me.

Drunk me in all her right mind, was smart enough to remove the layers of makeup on my face. They weren't smeared across Taehyung's satin pillow sheets. Sheets I like to think he got for me, to protect my natural hair. I just like to think that he's thinking of me.

Catching my eye were two photo frames. The larger one contained Taehyung and his castmates of Hwarang. He was the youngest and his older castmates had bunny ears behind his head. Even though it was hard to see as Taehyung was dressed in a traditional hanbok. His perfect smile on display, his big ears poking out lateral to the black head strap. He looked like a kid in the candy store. Smiling cheek to cheek, that he actually looked like his six year old self.

Should I truly feel shame for allowing myself to fall in love with a man like him. A man who was kind, interested in the things I liked, was single, intelligent, and had a passion within his career. I wouldn't be exaggerating for saying that Kim Taehyung was one of a kind. It would be hard to find another like him. No. There is no one like him. I was already lucky to be in his space as a friend. Someone who he didn't have to worry about betraying him to the gossip-hungry tabloids, airing out his dirty laundry for the world to sift through and mock. I was honored to be his number one confidant, his best friend. But I won't lie to my heart and say I wish we were something more.

I wish I met his grandmother, the most important woman of his life under the guise of lover. That he posted my face on social media holidays like National Girlfriend Day. I wish that I had an initial in his bio, showing that he was taken.

But instead, I was reminded of the reason why none of my wishes would come true. His true love was currently occupying that space. The female co-star that he was currently the lead with. She was a beautiful ray of sunshine inside and out. Everything about her was pretty. Her skin was clear and smooth, not an imperfection is sight. She had a youthful look to her, easily being mistaken as Taehyung's junior despite her being older than him. Even her name translated to 'pretty' in both her native language and Korean. I didn't need intense calculations to understand why Taehyung was in love with her. If I was a male, hell I'd probably be in love with her too.

Which is why it hurt the most seeing the two lovebirds hug each other so lovingly. Her smile was turning into rambunctious teasing. Bragging that she won this little onsided game between us. That she was the victor in this drawn-out battle for Taehyung's attention and affection.

That I YN YLN was a loser. That I earned second place. Nah. That wouldn't stand for much longer. Kim Taehyung was in love with me. A seedling somewhere in that big heart of his was reserved for me. His girlfriend was the overcast, preventing my little seed from growing. Two can play this game. And rest assured, that this time I would be victorious.

Muah Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha!!!!!!

(just jokes- i don't support homewrecking <3)

[filmbyjy]

BE IN LOVE

PAIRING: park jongseong x fem!reader

SUMMARY: it was quite cheesy that you fell in love with your best friend’s brother. what could you do to prevent it? jay was someone who you knew was out of reach but you couldn’t help but crush on.

WARNINGS: cursing. maybe slight angst (?). other than that, there isn’t much.

WORD COUNT: 3.6K words

taglist[perm]: @ja4hyvn @ahnneyong @milklix @kar0ki @sugarsunoo

a/n: this is a repost of a previous work I did that I loved! well repost from my old account that got deleted but yeah! I have also re-edited it so it’s better to read. I found the previous one a little cringy but idk if its cringy🙃 hope you enjoy it though!

A typical morning spent in your bed. perhaps, a little breakfast in bed because your parents were worried about your bruised eyes. Now, you must be wondering how you obtained this bruised eye?

[last week] It was any normal day at school and any normal day included physical education, or PE for short form. You didn’t particularly enjoy sports, you would rather be cooped up in your room for hours just watching some Netflix or Disney+, but of course, you couldn’t just escape from it since it was a required subject in high school.

“One point for us!” jake yells. Meet jake, the school’s soccer captain and one of the school’s heartthrobs. Right next to him was sunghoon and jay. Sunghoon was the second heartthrob of your school and he played basketball and badminton (on occasions). Finally there was jay, the third heartthrob and also a family friend.

Both of your families were close and you two have played around as kids before. Well i say kids but the only thing both of your parents did was let you play in the crib together and that’s about it. Growing up, the both of you never got to really talk to each other. Both were too shy to do so and plus...you liked to play alone. guess that’s where wanting to stay-in started from. Since then a natural distance came between both you and jay.

“Oh come on, are you really cheating jake?” Mia, your best friend, says.

“And what are you gonna do about it park mia?” jake yells. your dear best friend was also jay’s twin sister. the girl huffs.

“yah, park jongseong! would you care to smack the back of jake’s head?” and so jay does, he smacks the slightly younger boy. jake groans. Whatever Mia wanted, jay would comply because well...he wanted to be the great brother. Mia slings her arm around you.

“Don’t worry (name), jake isn’t going to bother us anymore.” she proudly says.

“WATCH OUT!” you turned around and a dodgeball comes flying onto your face. Your glasses flew across the room and you fell the ground, blacked out. Well at least Mia was right, jake didn’t bother you. rather a ball flew across and hit you.

[current time] Wasn’t a great thing honestly. Your mom popped her head at the door to check up on you. she brings in a plate of fruits for you.

“Here, eat this (name).” you sighed.

“Mom, it’s just a black eye. You’re acting as if i got hit by a car.”

“But sweetie, you’re injured.” she says.

“Mom, i’m fine.”

“Your glasses are broken too, we should get you a new pair.” she points over at your glasses that had shattered on impact.

“can i buy some contact lenses?”

2 years passed by, it was finally the last year of high school. Your class gathered in the classroom to surprise your form teacher, a small gesture to say ‘hey you survived teaching us for 4-5 years of your life. Hope you live well and we will see each other when we do’.

You were in your graduation gown, putting up the balloons. You felt the table shake but you knew you were great at balancing, well you thought before you fell into jay’s arms. Your eyes widened. You quickly got off jay and apologised. Mia smirks, she pulls you away from her twin brother.

“I saw what happened~so you and jay huh.”

you shoved her shoulder, “i don’t like your brother like that. besides, we are strictly just family friends.”

“oh shush, did you know our parents have this bet that you and jay would start dating?” she excitedly says.

“Whatever Mia. I have to go and grab the cake from the front gate, text me when Mr.Smith arrives alright?” Mia nods. While you went out though, Mia walks over to jay.

“Go with (name) now.”

“But-”

“Go and get the girl you’ve been crushing on since we were kids.”

“I don’t have a crush on her.” mia rolls her eyes.

“yeah sure. It’s like saying i don’t have a crush on jake.” mia deadpans.

“You have a crush on jake?” jay tilts his head.

“huh? what? I didn’t hear you.” jay rolls his eyes.

“I will tell mom on you.”

“We aren’t five anymore jay. Just go with (name) and be confident. I’m sure she likes you too!”

“Fine.” jay goes over to where you were. You thanked the person who delivered the cake and went back. Jay walks over to you.

“why are you here?” you say. Jay shrugs and then silence follows after. both you and jay went back to the classroom. where they graduation party really started.

That was the last time you saw the boy before college happened. It had been 3 years since you’ve last seen jay or even Mia. She went to a different department and so you couldn’t always meet up with her since she was extremely busy. It was just about towards the ending of exam season and so plenty of people started planning for parties.

You spot a familiar figure waving for you and so you walked over.

“It’s been too long (name)!” Mia gives you a tight squeeze.

“You’ve changed.” you say. your best friend looked so much more mature. she had made a decision to study business and so she dressed way more sophisticated.

“And so has jay.” she winks. You rolled your eyes.

“Are you seriously still trying to get me and jay together?”

“Has it worked?”

“No, we haven’t seen each other since the last party we held for our high school teacher.”

“What? But jay has to be in your class. You’re both in fashion right?”

“Fashion? I took arts, mia. I told you i had a passion for arts.” she facepalms and groans.

“Is that why jay cut me off. Urgh i’m an idiot.”

you tilt your head, “You haven’t talked to jay in 2 years?”

“Yeah, besides he has his friend group. Oh did you hear? They started a band together.”

“You mean those 3 heartthrobs of Decelis High?”

“Yeah, along with 3 freshmans and a senior.”

“That’s great. What about you and jake?” Mia shows you her ring. Your eyes widened, “He proposed in these 2-3 years we haven’t talked? Why didn’t you even tell me when you two started dating.”

“No, silly. It’s a promise ring. We’ve been dating for 2 years now. Best 2 years ever by the way.”

“Kinda hurt you didn’t tell your best friend about this.” you huffed and folded your arms.

“I’m sorry!” she goes to hug you.

“You had time with your boyfriend but not me. It hurt when you just cut all contacts with me you know.” you pout.

“Sorry (name).” she whines. You giggled. “I’ll buy you tteokbokki. how about that?”

“With cheese?” you say.

“With cheese.”

The both of you made it to a familiar tteokbokki stand, one that you went to everyday after school. You noticed a pretty familiar face. Mia tilts her head and looks over to where you were staring.

“He said he’d be having band practice.” Mia stares at jake. She pulls you over to where the 6 boys were. Then lets go of you before grabbing jake by the ear. “sim jaeyun, didn’t you say you were having band practice?” mia glares at jake.

“ah ah, i’m sorry, babe forgive me. sunghoon suggested to eat at our usual tteokbokki place so we decided to come here but cross my heart, we practiced before coming here.” jake says.

“(name)?” sunghoon says.

“Sunghoon.”

“hyung, who is she?”

“Oh umm, that is (name). (name), this is sunoo, jungwon, ni-ki and heeseung. Our bandmates.”

“Hi.” you waved.

“Where is jay by the way?” Mia asks.

“Bathroom.” Mia nods.

“Well, we shouldn’t disturb all of you. Me and Mia will just go shopping.” you grabbed her arm and quickly left the tteokbokki place. It fell silent between you and her as you walked around the shops.

“Why did you leave? You could’ve seen jay.”

“It’s been a while since we’ve caught up with each other. Come on, let’s go shopping.” you say. Mia could sense you didn’t want to talk about jay so she nods.

It was around 7.30pm when you finished walking around with mia. you decided to get back to your dorm, however as you were arriving, you saw someone familiar. he was walking a girl home. it was jay. He shyly converses with the girl and bid her goodbye. You mustered up the courage and quickly walked past them. The girl walks in first and you silently prayed that jay wouldn’t notice it was you.

“(name).” well...your hope was now crushed. You slowly turned to face jay.

“Jay. a little surprised to see you here.” you gave him the most sincere fake smile you could, “Why are you here?”

“Oh..just sending a close friend of mine to the dorms since it was quite late.”

“Oh. that’s nice of you. She must be a really great friend.” jay blushes slightly.

“a-ah no. We just talk a little.” it hurts to see jay so flustered by a girl. the younger you would’ve cried. You giggled.

“Someone has a crush on her. Well i’ll get going, see you.” you quickly left before jay could say anything. You were heartbroken. You went back to your dorm. Seems like your roommate just arrived too.

“where did you go?” you asked her. She was in a daze, clearly happy something happened to her.

“The fashion heartthrob walked me home today.” she says. You froze, was that girl your roommate?

“Which heartthrob? Our school has a bunch.” you nonchalantly say as you placed your shoes onto the shelves. it was true, your department and practically the whole school had a bunch of heartthrobs.

“jay. God, he’s so good looking. You think he likes me? He was so flustered while talking to me.” she says. You remembered asking him just now. He did look flustered and kinda happy when talking to her.

“Yeah maybe.” your roommate jumps in happiness.

“eekkk, i’m so happy!! I should get some beauty rest to see him tomorrow!”

“Yeah you should.” you say. Your roommate runs to her room and shuts the door. Your phone vibrates. A text from Mia, she asked if you wanted to call so you replied to her with a simple okay. you picked up the call.

“Hey, got to your dorms safely?” mia asks. you shut your bedroom door and placed your purse down on the table.

“Yeah.”

“Great but why do you sound so defeated?”

you sighed, “Do you think jay still likes me?”

“Of course. Even if it has been years. Jay will still look for you. Why?” you fiddled with your little songwriting book you’ve kept since you were 15. the pages were almost filled with inspirations and lyrics.

“i saw him walking a girl home and that girl is my roommate.”

“what? Oh he will get it.” mia says. you could imagine her holding up her fist.

“No, don’t. He will know i told you because i was the only one that knows about it.” you cracked open the book and began writing some lyrics for fun.

“Are you doubting yourself?” mia asks. you paused. did you doubt yourself? absolutely. jay was someone who was out of reach.

“I mean...he can date whoever he wants. I have no control over him. it’s not like i’m his girlfriend.” you quickly continue to scribble.

“(name), listen to me.”

“Go ahead.”

“We will dress up and meet the band tomorrow.” you dropped the pen.

“What?”

“We have to and besides jay blocked me from everything. i just wanna have a word with him.”

“Mia-”

“Whoops sorry, i have to go. Jake is calling me.” mia ends the call. You breathed in. you had to prepare to meet him again tomorrow.

The next day, mia tells you to get ready by 1pm and so you do. You put on a simple short black dress and threw over a leather jacket. to finalise the look, you wore a necklace. maybe this was a little extra but hey who said you couldn’t dress up.

“My god, what special occasion are you going to?” mia says upon seeing you walk out of the door. you rolled your eyes.

“is it wrong to dress up?” you say. Mia smiles.

“oh no, it isn’t wrong but jay would sooo drool over this. maybe if jay didn’t like you, you could go for someone else. like me perhaps.” mia winks. you laughed and smacked her arm.

both you and mia arrived at where the band frequently practices. The school provided a studio for them and they were elated. Their band played at school related shows and once at a prom. They were pretty known in the school. which surprised you since you’ve never seen them before. i mean, you never really go to school events anyways.

“baby!” jake runs up to mia. They hugged, you smiled at them. they were adorable. way different to how they were back then but you knew along the way that mia just liked jake.

“Okay the younger boys and heeseung have met (name) but yeah. She’s here today.” mia says. you waved.

“Your aura seems different today. Do you have a date later on or something?” sunghoon says as he nudges you. You giggled.

“very funny hoon, unfortunately, i am not going out for one.”

“maybe i could take you out to one later on then.” he smirks. you playfully rolled your eyes at sunghoon’s words.

“shut up.”

“then who did you dress up for noona?” sunoo says.

“yeah, for who?” sunghoon smirks, “is it possibly me?”

“In your dreams. I dressed up for myself.” your eyes met with jay’s, he was definitely checking you out and so you shyly looked away.

“hey (name), i just remembered when you showed me a music piece that you wrote in high school.” jake says. You blushed.

“jake, what do you mean? i never showed you anything.” the boys were interested.

“You’re lying. Mia knows about it too.” she nods agreeing with her boyfriend.

“Don’t tell me you still have it.” you say. jake smirks. He pulls out a book, it was your old lyric book that you had for fun since you had a lot of fun writing it. you swore you lost it so why does jake have it?

“Shall we try singing it, miss singer?” jake says.

“what? I can’t sing, jake.” he turns over to mia.

“Don’t hide that beautiful voice of yours, (name).” she comes up to you and whispers, “besides, don’t you want to impress jay so he wouldn’t be swayed by your roommate?” you breathed in. you really haven’t sang in a while and you didn’t want to do it. however, with everyone’s eyes on you…you couldn’t let them down.

“Fine.” you say. jake claps his hands. He grabs his guitar and starts the chords for the chorus since you only wrote for the chorus and then gave up. it was honestly impressive that you came up with guitar chords to go with the chorus you wrote.

You took a deep breath. you were a little nervous but you closed your eyes and pretended no one was there. it was as if you were singing in your bedroom alone.

Be in love, we know

Heart to heart, you feel it too, right?

Hey love, hey love, please wait for a while

We can be together

Say bye-bye to boring days

Feel our energy

Hey love, hey love, baby just stay in love, love

You stopped right there and when you opened your eyes, you instantly met with jay staring at you. You shyly looked away.

“Wahhh noona, that was great. You should’ve join music production or something.” sunoo says.

“I’m not that great. I just made these lyrics up because i had a crus-” you covered your mouth. great you just revealed the one thing you didn’t want the boys to know about.

“You had a crush? Why didn’t we know about this?” sunghoon says. You looked down at your hands.

“Because it’s not important. It’s just a crush. It wasn’t like i dated him or something.”

“Exactly but crushes are equally important as a boyfriend. So miss (name), are you going to spill the tea or not?” sunghoon says. You looked over at jay, he seemed like he wasn’t upset or anything.

“i-i’m not telling!” you say.

“then if she won’t say it...I WILL! IT’S-” you covered jake’s mouth.

“hehe, well i guess it’s a mystery. Well i have to go now, bye!” you grabbed your bag and left. Mia gives jake one look before running off to find you. Jake grabs his phone when he notices it’s ringing, he answers it and places it in speaker mode.

“(name)! Where are you going?”

“hiding in my room! I can’t believe i blurted that out loud in front of jay!”

“Oh come on, (name). It’s not bad.” you stopped and looked at mia.

“Not bad? that song was literally crafted for him because my teen heart loved him so much. If he found out then i’m fucked. I was stupid. he already has a crush on someone else now. what’s the use?” you confessed. Jake looks up at jay, a blush dusting the older boy’s cheeks.

Mia shows her phone and places it in speaker mode.

“Jay, you heard that? Also unblock me, you idiot.” mia says.

“u-umm can you pass the phone to (name).” jay says. your eyes widened. oh hell nah, he heard everything you just said. mia and her devious plans.

“Mia…” you glared at her.

“Talk to him.” she says handing you her phone after turning off the speaker mode. Jay found a place to quietly talk to you, preferably away from the other boys.

“Hey. jay says.

“Hi.”

“Let’s just get to the point. That song was for me?”

“Yes.” your heart was beating 10 times faster.

“So you liked me.”

“Would it be bad if i still like you up till now and i’ve been waiting for you?” you say.

“Meet me outside your dorm at 6pm.” jay says.

“Uh, sure.”

“I’ll tell mia to send my phone number after i unblock her.” you snort.

“Can’t believe you blocked her because she thought i took fashion.”

“Trust me, i was really mad when i couldn’t find you anywhere in the fashion department.”

“Well see you later.” you say.

“See you.” the call ends. You hand mia her phone back.

“Oh he just unblocked me and he asked me to send you his number...wait what happened during the call.”

“Not telling you.” you stick your tongue out.

Later at 6pm, you came downstairs in a hoodie and sweatpants because honestly, it was too comfy. Jay was waiting for you and you sneaked up on him and scared him. He flinches.

“Oh my god, it was just you.” you smiled.

“So why did you want to meet me here?” you asked.

“Well, i wanted to invite you to a party.”

“A party? Couldn’t you have texted me.”

“Umm...i’m inviting you as my date.” your eyes widened, “you don’t have to accept it. umm, if you don’t want to come to the party-”

“Jay?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll come.” you flashed him a smile. He shyly smiles. Before you left to get back to your dorm, you gave jay a peck on the cheek and then ran off quickly. Jay holds the side where you kissed him at, a wide grin forming. Jay texts you the details of the party.

Friday comes in, the day of the party. Jay comes to pick you up. You opened the door and there stood jay. He snuck up to the dorm apartment place just to meet you at the door. You were wearing a similar black dress that hugged your body even more perfectly than the previous one. Jay smiles.

“You look great.”

“Thank you, you too.” jay drives you over to the party. It was a huge party, almost every popular clique was here and they all were in their own fun world. Dancing, drinking alcohol and probably making out. Jay drags you to where his friends were.

“Oh hey, you two came together.” sunghoon says. Mia eyes you up and down.

“Isn’t that the dress i bought for you only specifically when you and jay are dati-WAIT (name)....” you shyly look over to jay and he wraps his arms around your waist protectively.

“Me and (name) are dating.” mia gasps.

“You didn’t ask me.” you whisper to jay.

“Well both you and i know, we have mutual feelings for each other so you’re my girlfriend now.” you hide your face at the crook of jay’s neck. he runs his hands down your back to pat you.

“AYYYYY (name), can’t believe you and jay are finally together.” jake says. Jay could hear you whine softly. He chuckles.

“Alright, she’s shy. Let’s not tease her.” jay says.

“Don’t makeout in front of us alright.” mia says.

“You and jake should take your own advice.” heeseung says. Jake blushes.

[epilogue]

It was still summer holiday so both you and jay went back home to visit your parents and well…

“I always knew you two would get together. A match made in heaven.” your mom says.

“mom~” you whined.

“jongseong-ah, where is your sister?”

“At jake’s house.”

“Oh my, are they dating? I knew something would spark between them, they used to hate each other and now look at them. Mia didn’t even tell me about both of them.” Jay’s mom says. Your mom settles the both of you down on the couch.

“so…(name), jay. When are the both of you planning to get married?” your mom asks.

“MOM!” jay on the other hand was blushing hard.

[canmom]

booksbooksbooks{2} - a convoluted excuse to drive the choo-choo train

I have the good fortune to live very near a library that reopened a few months ago, which means: more books!

The Black Locomotive by Rian Hughes was one such book that I saw on the shelves and decided to read like old times - no recs, no familiar authors, just rolling the dice on a book that looked kinda interesting. Paging through it, it looks kind of wildly ambitious, each chapter alternating with tables of materials that make up the built environment and architectural plans and varied, experimental typography. As a work of Design(tm), I certainly can't fault this book.

And indeed, as I got going reading this book, introduced to a beleagured Crossrail engineer who stumbles across what is blatantly a big old alien artefact and a buildingfucker artist whoo is constantly going on huge long meandering meditations on the nature of architecture infrastructure in his POV chapters, I was pretty intrigued. It seemed like it would be going somewhere really quite interesting.

However.

The actual story that all this is in service to is an elaborately contrived scenario in which a group of train-obsessed men who joined a train club as kids must coordinate a nation-wide conspiracy of message board users to drive an old steam train cross-country from the 'strategic steam reserve' of decommissioned steam trains under Box Hill into London... in order to open a locked door. Because the aliens created a field which disables all modern electronics you see, so they can't just blow it up or something.

You see: the artist, Rutherford, went into the alien spaceship that lies underneath London and formed the sort of psychic seed that the city grew around. And closed the door behind him. And they only found one key. And they need to get in and stop Rutherford before he does any unwise alien shit. Hence the whole train thing.

So crossrail engineer Austin teams up with his old schoolmates and users of the 'Smokebox Club' forums to crack the nut with a steam train, coordinated using a phone app, which tells everyone exactly where to go and how to move the points to direct the train to the right destination.

So far this is all a bit silly but like. It's a fun idea, and an interesting way to play with railway-fan conspiracy theories and so on. What really soured me on this book, if I'm honest, was the ending.

Once this is accomplished - of course it's accomplished, you don't set up a premise like that and have them fail - our co-protagonist Austin finally gets to confront Rutherford. And doesn't do anything. He just kind of backs down and goes along with it as Rutherford flies central London into space to get involved in a space war or something. Literally this whole entire plot, which gives the novel its title, which takes up the entire second half of the novel, goes absolutely nowhere.

At that point the house of cards kind of came down for me. Rather than fun and provocative, all the interstitial panels and schematics felt rather superfluous. For all its grounded descriptions of Crossrail engineering and typographic inventiveness in the presentation, the actual scifi premise was all pretty standard space opera stuff.

You might notice a lot of parallels in this description to Seth Dickinson's novel Exordia, which I loved. Both novels transition from their characters encountering the manifestation of a terrifying alien artefact to a mad dash supported by the efforts of people across the country/world to get the protagonists where they need to go in a last-ditch effort and, not to get too deep into the Exordia spoilers, both subvert that direction. Both books invoke a subject that can be quite dry and academic - moral philosophy, architecture - and make it the heart of a dramatic scifi story.

And while there are many differences that led to me liking Exordia more than The Black Locomotive (Exordia is a lot darker and richer in its imagery, it's a lot more international in its outlook, women actually do shit in it, etc.), the biggest one for me is that Exordia had actual structural and thematic payoff. What Anna does at the end of the Exordia, while it betrays the triumphant arc that seemed to be in motion, is still interesting - horribly so, it's the crux of it all. What Austin does at the end, by contrast, is nothing! He might as well not have done any of it.

The whole book drives (literally) towards a confrontation, yet Austin and Rutherford barely have enough time to set up any sort of adversarial dynamic (they both find the idea at worst mildly annoying). There are some parallels between them - both are deeply lonely men, we are reminded often, men who subsume their inability to participate in heterosexuality into their work and just kind of numb themselves to it. So Rutherford is sort of vaguely interested in people in the abstract, but mostly in terms of how they form part of the city, which is his real love. Austin is your classic engineer guy.

The other thing that left me cold with The Black Locomotive is the concept of the Smokebox Club. It felt something like a plot tumour - a cute idea that somehow grew to subsume the whole book. Hughes is clearly very proud of this: he's come up with a logo for it, a theme tune with multiple remixes, fake magazine covers, and a whole bunch of lore about its secretive workings. And like, listen, I've been in the Infrastructure Club slack, I've been on forums, I know how train nerds be.

Where this truly broke down for me is the series of brief POV chapters in which people get messages from a phone app they vaguely remember which tell them to go to a nearby rail and move the points, and somehow this all goes off without a hitch. Each POV character gets their own font - for example, an old man escapes from his nursing home, and one guy is a thief/gang leader called 'Ice Prophet' ('real name Yousef Evans') whose section is delivered in a handwritten font, but he finds a sudden spark of prosociality when he hears the Smokebox ringtone and recalls his dad (yes this chapter is kind of painfully written). i.e. people from all walks of life come out to help the train on its way, isn't that wonderful? Hurrah for steam trains, every boy wants to drive a train don'tchaknow.

I can definitely enjoy a 'people from across the land come out to support the big project' plotline. Sure, all of Japan's electricity must go into the rifle to blow up the angel! It's incredibly silly, and often softly nationalistic, yet it can be very emotionally compelling.

But.

The narration is pretty explicit here: the app shows detailed pictures and the MCs have a UI indicating which points on the line have been checked. And normally, in fiction, you might overlook questions like 'so who coded this app' and 'why does it have this functionality'. But this book is literally all about infrastructure. How and why things are built, the way architecture shapes our lives and grows like an organism, this is all stuff we've spent chapters and chapters meditating on. So it's a lot harder to ignore!

Over the course of the latter half of the book, the Smokebox Club grows from a train forum to an elaborate secret society which commands supranational loyalty from its members. Surprise: Austin's boss Georgia Ash is the Chief Engineer! One of her predecessors was probably Winston Churchill.

And like, OK, it's all a bit of fun. But it really undercuts the setup of the rest of the book, all the grounded effort to tie it to real places and engineering projects and British history and politics, to fold everything back up around an oddly culty train enthusiast forum.

Overall, then, The Black Locomotive disappointed. I looked up Rian Hughes after reading - it turns out he's a prolific typography designer, graphic designer and illustrator, as well as working frequently in comics, who's recently turned his hand to writing novels (his previous being XX). Which probably goes a long way to explaining this: all the stuff he's got decades of experience in is what's strong in this book. But the actual scifi novel aspect is fairly underbaked.

Science fiction and fantasy authors do, for some reason, really love London. There are so many books directly or indirectly about the nature of this city (and often its secret spiritual underworld) from authors like China Mieville or Neil Gaiman, as if London is the paradigmatic city, which all other cities somehow echo. I do feel like it's a bit played out at this point. Like in this book, if London's unique complexity is because it was seeded by a reality-warping alien spaceship that was cultivating the complex society it needs to replace its pilot and get back into space... what of like, literally every other big city, just as steeped in history?

I guess if I mostly read novels in French, I'd probably end up saying the same things about Paris...

[writingbyshiloh]

Hi Shiloh ☺️

Everytime I get to type a message/request for you I smile like an idiot.But anyways can I request prompt 2 for Red

Please and Thank You in advance love❤️

ANYTHING FOR YOU SORAYA!!!! Request any Reddington content u wish!!!! Tagged all the Reddington fans at the bottom

CW: Flying, Pilot!Reader. All pilot references/knowledge is from Google so may not be accurate. Not beted. It took me almost 3 hours to write this so I lost all motivation to edit.

Prompt: 2. Giving them a shoulder message when they won’t leave whatever they’re working on

You kept looking at the digital clock in the cockpit. For flights longer than 10 hours, Dembe steps in to give you a break. You had 8 hours on then Dembe would cover you for 4 hours before you took over the final four hours of the flight. You were alert the whole time you were in the pilot seat, able to shower and sleep once on land in whatever destination Reddington wanted. Dembe got to keep his flight skills sharp. 

“Go on break.” A soft vogue cuts through your thoughts. You nod, shifting in your seat to stand and stretch, filling Dembe in on any important notes during your time in the air so far. 

“How is he?” you didn't need to specify who you were talking about. It is only the three of you on board. 

“Stressed.” 

You nod in understanding before going to the cabin of the jet. On break you try to nap, stretch out your limbs, and watch some TV if time permitted. Another chunk of your time is filled with Reddington asking you about what you watching and listening to you in earnest. Sometimes lightheartedly poking holes in the plot or pointing out the setups for plot twists. 

You place your hands on the back of the seats keeping your balance as you make your way to the small couch. 

“Hello, sweetheart.” Reddingtons deep voice caught your attention before you reached your destination. 

“Hey!” You moved a bit quicker down the seats.

“How are the skies?” 

You place your hand on the back of his seat, trying to sneak a peak from the windows, met with more gray. The table in front of him is covered with pieces of paper, pens, a phone, and a drink, while his suit jacket was on the chair across the aisle. 

“Cloudy, but better weather when we land.” 

Trying to get more of a view from the windows, you move your hand further on the seat in front of you landing on Reddington's shoulder. 

You expect him to freeze or gently remove your hand. What you don't expect is for him to lean into your touch, head tipped back on the seat, eyes closed. 

Now standing fully behind his set, you adjust your hands to get a better grip on his shoulder. Thumbs pressed deep into his upper shoulders before moving closer to his neck, and back again. You didn't really know what you were doing, basing your moves on his responses rather than any actual knowledge. 

The jet was comfortable, but if he was hunched over a table for eight hours you could understand the pain. 

“You may have chosen the wrong career.” He says voice soft. You try not to laugh. 

“I’m sure I’m a better pilot than a masseuse.” 

His head was tipped back to look at you.

“Are you saying I’m naturally gifted at giving massages, or I’m an awful pilot?” you tease. 

“The former. Although there was that one landing, in Switzerland?” 

You remove your hands from his shoulders. 

“Ha-ha. Very funny.”

(Dm to be added or removed), @soraya-daydreamsreams, @horrorqueen22, @wild-rose-35, @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek, @zombieskullxz, @rhepworth, @fanficismydrug, @navs-bhat, ( @btsjiminsthings, @emilynissangtr these r the people who liked the post about the tag list but didn't officially comment! just dm if you wish to be removed!!)

[nikofortuna]

JTTW Chapter 1 Thoughts

I finally managed to sit myself down and read the first chapter for the @journeythroughjourneytothewest Reading Group!

So I have actually decided on dual-reading each chapter. As I have a physical copy of Anthony C. Yu’s translation I read that one first, though afterwards I looked at the J.F. Jenner translation as well, which ultimately made me come to the decision of reading both versions each chapter. While Anthony C. Yu's version has more definitive detail, J.F. Jenner's is just easier to understand. It is very much a sense of I kind of got it the first read including the major points, but I really connected some additional dots with the second.

Additionally I'll be listening to the Audio Drama Series on YouTube by @jttwaudiodrama, the chapters that are available so far anyway, which honestly might be my personal favourite already. I adore that they use the Mandarin names at least once when they come up for the first time and they use the original measurements and such! It was so weird reading "36 feet and 5 inches", partially because I use the metric system, meanwhile “3 Zhang 6 Chi and 5 Cun” felt far more natural to hear. The Production Notes for each chapter are great too!

Now onto some of the thoughts that came up in my mind while reading!

“It’s free real estate.” When the monkeys were moving into Shuilian Cave that’s what immediately entered my mind.

Also something I found interesting is that the stone mansion was abandoned seemingly in a somewhat hasty manner? At least that’s how it came across to me with it not being completely clean, but there still being leftovers on the table. That or the previous owner didn’t care much for keeping things orderly, it could be either really.

Very much love the anti-grindset vibes when Sun Wukong sees how focused on fortune and fame humans are always striving for more. They are practically working themselves to death without ever stopping to just live in the moment for a while and are never satisfied with what they have either. One ought to think if you are already a prime minister as mentioned in the poem you have more than enough wealth to live comfortably.

One could argue that since they believe in reincarnation, which might even be a confirmed fact there, they might think they will be able to relax in another life. However when would that life come around then, if they just continue with this work ethic lifetime after lifetime? If they simply want their children to have a comfortable life, why would they be perpetuating this mindset actively preventing them from having one?

Then you have the woodcutter as the exception to the rule, who doesn't have much, but is still rather content outside of genuinely valid concerns regarding getting enough food on the table.

This whole issue being brought up so early in the book already puts it in a very good light. Looking forward to the story's further exploration of these topics!

Rounding out with something sweet, one of the animals Sun Wukong befriends in the Anthony C. Yu translation is a civet, which I didn’t know what it was, so I looked it up. They are so adorable! Just look at their big ol’ eyes and cute little snoot! Precious!

This is an Asian Palm Civet specifically, which I guess might be the kind he could have met. Something I read on African Civets specifically, which I assume goes for other kinds of civets as well to some extend at least, is that they are not felines which one might guess at first glance. They are more closely related to weasels or mongooses instead!

[moonlit-stay]

The Countdown To SKZ-MAS: Day 7

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Pairing: Seungmin x Female Reader

Activity/Tradition: Reading Christmas Stories

Genre: Fluff and Smut

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Soft!Dom Seungmin, Sub!Fem reader, established relationship, unprotected sex, nipple play, clit stimulation, creampie

Other Warnings: Mentions of fire (fireplace)

Please let me know if I missed anything

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Color(s) Of This Fic: Dark Red and Silver <3

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If you are under the age of 18, please do not interact with this fic. This fic contains inappropriate content and is strictly 18+

Everything written in all of my work is consensual. Even if not stated within the work.

Enjoy :)

-

The night grows late as darkness sets in, snow continuously falling and illuminating the outside of your home in a beautiful silver glow. The inside of your home is dimly lit by nothing but the fireplace and holiday candles placed carefully on your coffee table and other surrounding surfaces.

A long, dark red pillow with silver snowflakes sewn onto it lays across the surface of your fireplace, giving you and Seungmin the perfect place to sit and stay warm while you read your Christmas stories.

Seungmin brings some fluffy blankets over towards the fireplace, getting everything ready for you both to read together.

One of the traditions you had in your family was to read Christmas stories together every night the week before Christmas. It was a tradition you held close to your heart, so naturally when you and Seungmin started dating, it was a tradition you continued with him starting the very first Christmas you spent together as a couple.

"I got it!" You sing out, bringing the tote of Christmas books into the living room.

You stop in your tracks, carefully setting the tote down and taking in your surroundings. Your eyes sparkle as you take in everything Seungmin set out to make the space you two would be sharing this tradition in special for you.

You turn to him, your bottom lip jutting out as he smiles brightly at you, holding his arms out to embrace you. You walk into his open arms, resting your head on his chest as you wrap your arms around him. You feel his arms circle around you as he sways you back and forth with a laugh.

"Do you like it?" He asks you, peering down at you.

"Of course, I do." You sniffle, burying your head further into his chest.

He lets out another laugh, holding you close as he continues to sway you both back and forth.

"Are you ready to pick out our stories?" He asks, holding your face gently in his big palms as he swipes his thumbs along your cheeks.

You nod up at him, your hands coming to wrap around his wrists.

Once you both make your way over to the tote, you take a minute to briefly admire all the books, all the colors festive and perfect for this time of year. You allow your fingertips to run along the spines of the books, some new and in perfect condition, while others are old and worn down. Anyone could've guessed the books that are old and worn down are from your childhood, books you've grown up reading and a small smile pulls at your features at the sight.

"This one." You point, pulling out the oldest book in the tote before standing back and letting Seungmin choose a book for himself.

He chooses one that is also rather old before you both make yourselves comfortable in front of the fireplace. With your backs turned to the fireplace, large, fluffy blankets pulled over your laps, and Christmas stories in hand, you both were ready to read.

"You go first this year." Seungmin gently says, slightly nudging you with his shoulder.

You shyly smile as you pull your book away from your chest, opening it to the first page.

"Ok," you smile, looking over the pages of the book. "Here goes."

Seungmin listens intently as you read your story, his head coming to rest on your shoulder as he follows along as you read. Your eyes run across the words on the pages and along the illustrations, admiring the small details that hold so many sentimental memories for you.

After a short while, you finish reading your story, carefully closing the book, and setting it on your lap.

"Your turn." You almost whisper out, resting your head against his.

He reluctantly moves from his place on your shoulder, opening his book as he begins reading. Your eyes trace over his lips as he reads, his slender fingers moving to carefully turn the pages and trace over the illustrations.

You can't help but smile when you look up at him. His eyes sharp and focused as he reads the words aloud, you listen intently to every word as love pools in your heart. You watch his eyes dart across the pages as he reads, brief pauses in between his words as he turns the page, quickly peering at you from the corner of his eyes.

"What?" He asks with a smile, noticing your smile as you stare at him.

"Nothing, nothing. Keep going." You giggle, watching as he turns his attention back to the book.

He soon finishes the story, closing and collecting both books to put them back in the tote. He makes his way back over to the fireplace, sitting next to you once again as he pulls you into his side.

"All good, baby?" He asks, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"All good, Minnie." You reply, looking up at him.

He leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips, feeling your grip on him grow tighter.

"Thank you for doing this with me every year." You softly thank, suddenly feeling bashful as you hide your face in his chest.

"You're welcome, baby." He replies, holding you until you decide to come out of hiding. "I do really like this tradition, you know. Especially since it means so much to you."

"Really?" You ask, still hiding in his hold.

"Mhm," he hums in response. "I can't wait to do this with our kids one day. Hopefully, this tradition will mean as much to them when they're all grown up as it does to you."

"Our kids?" You ask, coming out of hiding to look up at him.

He nods slowly, looking over your features.

"That has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" You smirk at him, watching as he mirrors your smirk before pressing his lips to yours.

"I do." He breathes out in between kisses.

He grabs at your hips, guiding you onto his lap so your back is pressed flush against his chest. He moves to press kisses along your neck as you grind back against him. He groans in response, his hands gripping your waist as he guides you back and forth on his lap.

You move to quickly pull your sweatpants off, kicking them further into the living room as Seungmin pulls his down enough for his hard length to spring free. You pull your panties to the side, grinding along Seungmin's bare length before guiding his tip through your folds and into your heat.

"Oh my god." Seungmin groans out, involuntarily bucking his hips into you.

He soon bottoms out, feeling you squirm against him at the lack of friction. He tries to regain his composure as he feels you lift your hips, dropping them down to meet his in a harsh movement.

"Shit," you hiss, repeating the action as you ride him.

Seungmin's hands trail up your shirt, cupping your tits as you continue to ride him. Your thighs burn from your efforts, but you feel too good to stop as your head falls back against Seungmin's shoulder, moans leaving your lips as your hands come up to hold onto his arms.

"Feel good, baby?" He asks, his fingers pinching at your nipples to hear high-pitched moans leave your form.

"So good, Minnie." You moan in response, your hips speeding up on their own accord as you ride him with more force.

Skin slapping against skin echoes through the room as your nails dig into the flesh of Seungmin's arms, your back arching off his chest when he rolls your buds between his thumbs and pointer fingers.

"Oh, my fucking god." You choke out, moans getting caught in your throat as your hips faulter.

Seungmin smirks, loving the fact that he can make your mind go blank and your body crumble. Even when you're on top of him.

"Need more, Minnie. I'm so close." You whine out, feeling one of his arms snake around you before his hand trails between your thighs.

He thumbs at your clit, eventually replacing his thumb with his palm as he harshly grinds it against your bud. A loud, high-pitched moan of his name leaves your lips as his hips thrust up to meet yours. His other arm coming to wrap around your middle and hold you in place as his hips drill up into you as he chases his high.

"Fuck!" You moan out, your thighs shaking against his as he pounds you into your orgasm.

You cum around his length with a choked scream, feeling all air leave your lungs as your vision goes white. He thrusts into you a few more times before he's spilling into you with drawn out moans. He slows his hips, riding you both through your highs before he stills.

Gasps leave your lips as you try and catch your breath, your head still resting back against Seungmin's shoulder.

You turn to look up at him, connecting your lips once again.

"I love you." You whisper against his lips, your eyes locking with his.

"I love you, too." He whispers back, his hand coming to gently caress your cheek.

He shuffles you both to the floor, bringing the large pillow and blankets with him as you both settle on the floor. You rest back in his hold, feeling Seungmin pull the blanket over your partially clothed forms.

You both eventually doze off, bodies still connected, and limbs intertwined as you hold each other close. Snow still falling and the fireplace still keeping you both warm as you drift off to dreamland together.

-

Main Masterlist

SKZ-MAS Masterlist

-

*·°Author's Note°·*

I love this day so much. Makes my heart feel whole <3

I truly feel this tradition fits Minnie so well and I love how this turned out.

-

°·*Taglist*·°

@kpophubb @whatudowhennooneseesyou @skzgallll

Send me a DM or an ask if you'd like to be added to the taglist!!

-

·°*Other Tings*°·

©All rights reserved to Moonlit-Stay. Reposting, modification, translation, and plagiarism of any kind is NOT tolerated. Please notify me if you see any work similar to my own.

Released: December 22nd, 2022

-

Please reblog my works. Share your thoughts if you'd like, even if it's just a simple keyboard smash.

I read every caption, tag, reply, ask, and dm. Feedback is what motivates me to continue to create content <3

[kat-is-laem-oa]

Chapter 4: Velvet Couches and Demon Summoning

(Previous Chapter) (Next Chapter)

From afar, an assailant slashed a man down the back, resulting in his tumble to the warehouse floor. Valentine had found the lair.

“Oh, God! Valentine found Magnus!” Clary yelled. She ran forward behind the group and Eljah stayed behind her. He was sure now that she was new to the shadow world. It was uncommon to learn about your angelic lineage this late in life, but if Eljah could exist, then Clary could be a late bloomer.

Clary and Eljah fell back from the group naturally, hiding behind metal horizontal poles at the sound of a child in distress. She was shaking her deceased warlock father, telling him to wake up.

Eljah stopped dead in his tracks.

“Papá! Papá!” echoed in his head. “Papá, por favor, despierta. ¡Tengo miedo, se acercan las sombras! Papá, te amo, despierta y mantente fuerte, ¡no puedo hacerlo!” The shadows. The shadows are coming. Wake up and stand strong. I can’t do it.

Clary found her confidence creeping forward, but something else was creeping in the shadows as well. As she yelled, "Watch out!” and marched forward to defend the little girl, Eljah turned to face the growing black void from the corner. His heart thumped hard enough it shook his body, but he still couldn’t move. The girl was safe thanks to Clary pushing away one of Valentine’s men, Eljah useless as a trance state took over. The fight echoed in the background.

“Clary Fairchild. Valentine will be so pleased to meet you.”

“Thank you!”

“Any time.”

“Eljah, what happened?”

“Eljah?”

“Just keep moving,” Eljah harshly responded, stumbling up and away from his spot. He held the metal previously behind him so hard it was indented and, wiping his hands, shook off tiny bits of its coating.

Isabelle wrapped her whip up, sure to investigate later when she had time. “Stick close. It’s safest if we stay together.”

Clary affirmed to the young warlock that she wouldn’t leave her alone. It soured Eljah’s mood more. How he wished he had someone like that growing up. When things got bad, he could only turn to himself… and maybe the street cats and dogs.

The entire group convened in Magnus’ now-destroyed living room. The velvet chairs and dark furniture tipped over or split in half. Said room had filled with splayed warlock bodies, and Jace respectfully closed their eyes one by one. Alec had come across Eljah taking a breather and the two walked in together, the last of everyone living.

Magnus was busy praising Clary for her bravery and heart and Eljah slid himself between some fallen furniture. He flexed his fingers, popping them again as an unconscious comfort technique.

Magnus stepped to the middle of the room, announcing, “Hold tight, everyone. We’re about to move.” He made eye contact with Eljah for the first time since crossing paths again. He looked concerned at the younger man's body language, nodding for permission to move ahead. Eljah took a deep breath and conceded.

This time, Magnus’ magic glowed blue. He moved them in the prettiest way Eljah had seen a warlock move whilst using magic. Eljah was straight to the point, but Magnus had flair just like his closet. The energy pulsated and then passed over every corner of the room, transporting them.

“Ah, much better.” Magnus sounded relieved, but after turning around, his face changed to disgust. “Ugh! It’s inevitable. After each move, I get the itch to redecorate.” He turned to Alec and Eljah, who were next to each other, pointedly telling them, “normally, I love a dirty lair, but this one is just sloppy,” emphasizing with a stomp to the broken table in front of him. Alec’s expression turned confused and slightly worried, while Eljah found amusement in the situation. Alec abandoned station and crossed the room as if he wasn’t attracted to Magnus.

Magnus moved on rather quickly. “I believe in payment for services rendered. Thank you for defending the warlocks.” He sweetly offered the necklace they’d returned earlier, telling Isabelle some of the history of their own family and the jewelry. He joked it would look silly on her brother and Alec physically reacted, telling Eljah these were siblings. Lightwoods, to be exact.

Eljah felt a twinge of jealousy at the obvious flirting, but especially at Magnus asking if Alec was more into flowers or cologne. Eljah’s answer, personally, would have been flowers.

He couldn’t tell who he wanted to be more…

“Okay, so how do we summon the memory demon?” Clary redirected. Eljah brushed off his butt, regretting it when he realized he brushed dirt onto freshly clean flooring, checking to see if Magnus noticed.

“Are you certain?” Magnus confirmed. “Summoning such a powerful demon could be lethal.”

“I’ll do anything to save my mother. Where is the demon?” Clary doubled down.

“Okay. Pretty boys! Get your team ready!” pointing in Jace and Alec’s general direction.

Jace spoke up, “you all know what to do.” But Magnus stopped him in his place.

“Alec, yes… but I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to you,” he pointed to both Eljah and Alec. Alec got real cheesy at that revelation and Eljah got shy. If the others could see his aura, it was consumed by a teal color that screamed “shy.”

Magnus beckoned Clary forward, saying, “come with me.”

—

Magnus led Clary off into a side room, and the others stayed outside. Eljah continued popping various parts of his body, stretching like a cat.

“Where are you from?” The voice of Alec startled Eljah, which made the taller man put his hands up in surrender, mumbling sorry.

“I’m from San Juan.”

“San Juan? Puerto Rico, wow,” awkward silence made an appearance, “uh, what institute did you train at?”

“Mexico City. It was the closest.”

“Was it… pretty?” Alec, for such a big and tough-looking guy, was incredibly awkward and shy. He cutely smiled, his energy gray with muddy, dark purple. Further proof of his anxiety.

“It was one of the prettiest places I’ve ever been. Overlooked the city and you could see everything. Tomas, the… previous head of the Institute,” he paused as he remembered his late father-figure, “used to take me to visit the city markets. I miss it a lot,” Eljah admitted.

“Why’d you leave?” Eljah felt like a Seelie out of water, tempted to shrug his shoulders despite knowing Alec is smarter than that.

“Shadowhunters, gather!” Magnus summoned. Relief flowed through Eljah, secured from extra questioning.

Magnus, in more comfortable albeit still flamboyant clothing, headed the group upon entry, but remained to acknowledge Eljah with an arm around his shoulders. The height difference made Eljah shrink, but he couldn’t deny physical touch and affection was rare for him. Especially from such an attractive group of people.

“Jocelyn was right, your artistry is beyond compare,” walking himself and Eljah next to Clary. She chuckled but denied the claims. Eljah, despite knowing summoning circles, always enjoyed the deep-rooted artistic nature of them, which the redhead tuned into with a rune activation. Although he was sure she was a natural either way.

“Oh, the only other person I’ve known who could draw as well was Michelangelo… who was excellent in bed, might I add?” Looking straight at Alec. Eljah could’ve howled at the shared reactions, familiar with some historical figures himself and their… deeds.

Upon viewing this specific circle, he realized everyone had a spot except for him. Magnus caught on quickly. “Don’t worry, little dove. You are my extra protection—you can stand by me, okay?” Everyone shuffled to their places, Eljah awkward behind Magnus.

“Okay, we’re ready.” Rolling up his sleeves, he told everyone to, “take your rightful place on the pentagram.” Eljah choked back a giggle at Clary’s confusion on where to step, considering it was a foot in front of her.

“We must initiate a bond. Once this bond is sealed, it cannot be broken until the demon retreats.” Magnus became more serious. “No matter what happens, we must not let go of each other’s hands.” He outreached his jewelry-clad hand to Alec. The two jolted as a low, booming sound built the connection.

One by one, the group magnetized together with wistful looks and gasps. Eljah could feel the shadows reach its oily hand up from deep within the Earth, the energy building and suffocating the air. He constantly wanted to turn around, senses on high alert for the incoming danger.

“I will lead the ceremony, and you all must do exactly as I say. The demon’s name is Valak. And at some point, he will ask for payment in exchange for Clary’s memories.”

This worried Jace, who asked, “what do you mean? What kind of payment?”

“Unfortunately, you won’t know until he is summoned,” Eljah responded. “Just keep your hands together and take a deep breath.” After a beat of confirmation between everyone, Magnus announced they’d begin.

He strongly chanted in Chthonian, summoning Valak. Everyone looked panicked, Eljah included.

“The necklace!” Izzy called out, “it’s pulsing.” A rush of wind came through soon after, everyone looking up as thick black shadows came down upon the room. Valak growled and Eljah watched the group struggle to hold on.

“Valak is among us! Do not break the bond!” Magnus reminded. Jace called out to Clary to hold on, who affirmed she was trying. While Magnus focused ahead of him, Eljah activated the luck rune on his chest. He circled the group, making sure the lines were strong and nothing had been ruined.

“We must each relinquish a beloved memory of the one we love the most,” Magnus rushed through the hectic noise. Isabelle naturally went first. An image of her brother appeared within the smoke before harshly dispersing. Clary and Alec followed, but when Alec’s memory surfaced, his emotions shifted.

Panic. Eljah saw straight panic. He couldn’t understand why the Parabatais were confused. Parabatais often, if not always, love each other, but Alec was shouting betrayal and deception into the wind.

“It’s not true! The demon deceived me!”

“Do not break the bond!” Magnus warned.

“Alec, It’s okay!” Isabelle insisted. But the damage was done, and Alec ripped his hands away, throwing himself back. Chaos erupted as the others shouted. The black smoke dispersed and everything in the room was thrown back. Eljah, instead of rocketing into the wall, smoothly slid across the floor.

Valak’s wrath was unmatched by their fear as they saw him in full. The wind became more like a tornado and the air was scarcely fresh.

“I cannot contain the demon much longer!” Eljah felt the same level of panic as the others, uncertain whether he should assist Magnus and risk exposing himself or try to kill the greater demon.

Alec dumbly stood and made his way in front of the demon. Jace sought to push him out of the way, but in doing so, offered himself up to the demon’s grip. Clary screamed in shock and Alec huddled in the corner.

It felt like too long had passed before someone grabbed onto Jace.

“Grab him!”

“The demon is growing stronger!”

“He’s slipping!”

“Clary, Eljah, help us!” The man ran to Magnus’ side, concealed by the veil of smoke from the others, and snapped his fingers like a match. It lit up the fiery red and purple radiance of Eljah’s magic and he took a deep breath, expelling air as he pushed with all his energy to contain Valak. Keeping up his opposing facades wasn’t worth the release of a greater demon in New York.

“Clary! If you kill the demon, your memories will be lost forever!” With the last call for help by Isabelle, Clary bravely stomped her way up to Valak with her seraph blade in hand, impaling the demon still grasping Jace.

Eljah fell next to Magnus, and the others rushed to check on their blonde shadowhunter. Magnus gently raised Eljah from the ground. “It’s alright,” he whispered, “Shadowhunter business usually ends like this.” Eljah was too tired to laugh.

“Is he gonna be alright!?” Clary cried out.

“I don’t know. Does he normally just lay like that without moving?”

No one else was laughing.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

[morg-among-the-stars]

Concepts of Gender - vulnerable long winded-rambling

I remember watching my dad spit out his tobacco when I was little, and he taught me how to spit, too. My mom wasn’t too happy about that: spitting is what boys do

I’ve always liked playing with my boy dolls rather than the girls. It was fun to fling Ken around or throw him off things. Boys were durable and it was okay if they got scuffed up. Whenever I got scuffed up— scrapped my knees or fell off something— I was called tough. Boys were tough, but I was a happy, tough little girl

As a kid, I understood that I was a girl. That I’d get older and marry a man (I’m laughing as I write that, trust me) and be a homemaker. An inevitable fate that my life was slowly inching toward. Not necessarily something I cared about, more or less something I just had to accept would happen to me

I was supposed to be friends with girls, but I got along with boys better. They were tough and durable and so was I. But I still liked chatting with the girls every once in a while (which would end in some kind of teasing, more often than not)

In middle school, things started growing and changing: “blossoming into womanhood” wasn’t my favorite thing in the world. I had teachers explain during sex ed about how when you’re a young girl, you start to look at your guy friends differently. That… I did not understand. I’d had crushes on boys by then, but the idea of being fully in love with one made no sense. I liked playing with boys at recess or making crude jokes to each other. But the idea of holding hands with one was outright weird

One guy friend of mine was near and dear to me, and he pointed out the changes I was dealing with. I leaned across the table at lunch one time, and he pointed it out to me that I had cleavage. I didn’t care, but he did. He was uncomfortable, so I had to be, too. By the nature of puberty, I gained natural weight. That of which I also had to be uncomfortable about, thanks to him

He pointed it out to me that I wasn’t desirable, that I wasn’t like the other girls. I didn’t care, but I apparently had to

I became hyper-aware of how I was perceived for a long time

In high school, I made the long-time-coming discovery that I liked girls and that brought me peace

I had a stupid, too short Dutch boy haircut and wore big shirts and jackets. One girl asked me very point-blank, “What’s your gender?” and while I know now, years later, that she most likely meant no harm (the equivalent to, "What are your pronouns?"), that comment struck me

I was livid and I didn’t understand why. I can see her point of view now: baggy clothes, short hair, not too high but not too low-sounding voice… I can see how she was confused. But I spat back at her, “What do you think?”

And she didn’t answer

I knew I didn’t want to be perceived as a boy and I knew I was supposed to solidly be a girl. But the lack of answer sent me down some kind of spiral

Not a full identity crisis, but something close to it

Ironically, I openly dismissed the idea of being non-binary back then. I dismissed that entirely, for anyone. I was a prick who thought I was smarter for sticking to a binary

I clearly wasn’t smarter than anyone, but I took my anger and spat it outward

Anger at myself, at anyone who perceived me

My mom yelled at me for getting my hair cut so short (which was purely an accident; I didn't know how to tell the hair stylist to quit being so handsy with the scissors) and told me to quit trying to confuse people

I was angry and, I guess, confusing. I was confused myself, and I confused the people around me

But who wants to spend their life angry? I surely didn't

With time and educating myself, I opened myself up to the idea that I might be non-binary toward the middle of my senior year of high school. Without warning or reason, she/her pronouns started to feel… itchy. Not debilitatingly uncomfortable, but a small and nagging thing that I couldn’t avoid, like a faint itch

I explained that to one of my favorite teachers, that it felt like an itchy tag in a shirt and she was the first person to use they/them pronouns for me. I can’t thank her enough, still can’t even now

There wasn’t any judgment. I was met with, “If trying this out will help you, then I want to help you.” And that’s what I needed

A weight was lifted when I first heard that being used for me. It felt like peace

For as hard as I pushed it away and tried to sit still inside such a rigid box, I was far outside that box to begin with

I should've seen that coming, too

But I didn't and that's okay. I couldn't have predicted the future

I told a few close friends, some accepted it while others shrugged it off. I had an ex who was also non-binary but shoved me in the "girl" box and forced gender roles and ideas onto me. I couldn't hold a place of power or speak my mind. I just had to listen and go along with whatever they said

For a moment (a matter of about a month), I thought of changing my name. I was between "River" (honoring the character from The Politician who, still to this day, is one of the most Me characters I have come across) and "Clark" (Ironically pre-dating the Superman fixation, I liked the ease of one-syllable names and the sound of it). Ultimately, I decided, and still decide now, that "Morgan" is what fits me, and maybe my parents did something right with giving their kids gender-neutral names

I used to (or maybe had to) care so much, but now I am just me. I'm fortunate and incredibly grateful for my partner @strawberryfemmesapphic who supports me in my being Me-ness. She was the first person to try out more masculine compliments for me (which I learned I liked a lot, with feminine compliments, too). We joke that I'm a Boy (no gender/gender roles implied) and that feels good to me.

I'm allowed and able to hold space for little tough, tomboy Morgan and for the softer sides of me, too, without sorting that into boxes

I'm just Me, at this stage in my life, as I am

[brooklynislandgirl]

15. Do you have any piercings?

A Will and A Way || -

For a moment she thinks she has to have misheard Cisco. Not because what he said came across as though he'd been gargling mouth-wash with his lips pressed together while he was underwater. No, rather than the Charlie Brown Teacher sound effects, every word is clear and sharp and absolutely his voice in her ears though he's a respectable distance ~the other side of the table~ from her. Such an unexpected question and heard in a way she's unused to manages to scrunch her face in confusion. First, Cisco is never really comfortable talking about things like that. Idle discourse while they're working ranges the gamut of favourite video games, worst comic adaptations on streaming services, the nature of scientific advancement and the ethics they are bound in. Whenever she teases him about anything personal or untoward he tends to deflect with shyness and humour and in a lot of ways it feels like she's torturing him for no real reason. Second, she can't begin to understand why exactly he was asking. Was he considering getting his own piercings? Is he seeing someone and he needs to get some advice about how to work his way around them? Which brings up a more important question which is why he hadn't mentioned he'd met someone? Since when had she been out of the loop and how had she missed something so huge? "Uh." Ah yes, the eloquence of her intellect. Any day now, they're going to come along and confiscate her S*T *A*R Lab ID card and send her packing. Exactly what the Admiral would expect and would use at his pleasure to flay her alive. She keys in one more sequence before she slides out of her chair and comes around to Cisco's side of the table. This is a show-and-tell matter. She turns her head to the left so he can see her ear plain as day, and the four total she has there. "Lobe, and upper lobe," she says, pointing to the two lowest and most natural looking ones. Today, there's a crescent moon with a jewelled star in the lobe, an actual diamond solitaire in the upper. "Tragus" This is the opal stud in the bit of the ear attached to her upper cheek. Then she touches the silver ring and ball on the upper outer rim of her ear. "Helix." Then she shifts and offers him her right profile and the three there. The bar is the first one she points out. "Industrial." A matching solitaire diamond in the upper lobe, then a sort of tribal faux ruby in the lobe. "Bu wait, dere's more," she winks. She never takes her eyes off his face as she reaches down and unbuttons her jeans from first to last, and shimmies the denim down low enough that he gets a decent view of black lace against her skin. Three little aquamarine studs draw the eye to her narrow hip bone. "Sub-dermal implant. Dis one I got talked into when I was small kine tipsy." John had told her it was for protection. He'd held her head and whispered into her ear until the very last thing she was thinking about was someone cutting into her flesh and implanting metal into her body. If she was honest with herself, she's pretty sure John could have talked her into anything that night, and all the ones that came after before he disappeared from her life. But Cisco doesn't need to know that. To cover the sudden change in her expression, she turns around, back to him, and raises her shirt up a little. "An' I always keep small kine of home with me wherevah I go. Dis is symbolic of my aumakua, my islands, an' dere beauty." She doesn't mention or show him the other tattoos. They haven't gotten quite that close. "Now I'ma beatcha t' da punch an' say… no I don' got nipple piercings or ones…ah… down dere. I don' see da appeal, an' hand f' God, as a medical doctor, havin' dem can actually cause you to eventually lose sensitivity in dose places. So if ya considerin' piecings on ya… bits… my advice is���yeah, naw, brah."

[perplexedflower]

Debito Fluff Alphabet - [Q]uirk

Fandom: La storia della Arcana Famiglia.

Category: F/M.

Relationship: Debito x Female Reader.

Type: Fluff Alphabet.

Q) Quirk: Something he has that is beneficial to the relationship.

~~~~~~~~~~

While certain individuals possess a handful of specific traits and quirks that may come in handy in a romantic relationship with someone else, this isn't entirely the case for Debito: due to his rather unique and eccentric nature, it's his entire personality as a whole that helps to contribute to his relationship with you. He's known to be quite unpredictable at times and is considered by many, including yourself as a wild card, especially within the friend group you form with the other division heads in the Family. You know that this side of him is sometimes frowned upon by some, mainly because it can get him in trouble, but also because these people simply don't appreciate much being around a loose cannon such as him, never knowing what he might be about to say or do. But when it comes to you, unlike these people, you've never found this trait of his as annoying or bothersome in any way: if anything, you actually like it. Maybe this is only a point of view that can be applied to you, given you're in a relationship with him, but you think of Debito's unpredictability as beneficial. Thanks to it, your couple never falls into a boring, repetitive routine that would bore you over time, and it's instead spiced up with various, unprompted changes from time to time, which pleases both you and Debito. Obviously, he doesn't overdo it, not wanting to drown you under too much irregularity and inconsistency. But he brings into the relationship just enough of them to keep the two of you busy, to keep you entertained; a part of you suspects that this may be the manifestation of one of his insecurities, that he makes sure you won't leave him any time soon by ensuring that you remain satisfied in the relationship and that you won't ever go look elsewhere for more adventure. And even if this instinct of yours is right, he would never admit it. But he's got nothing to fear: you're not going anywhere.

Mini Scene

Standing in front of Felicità's office, I knocked on the door.

"Come in!"

I opened the door halfway and peeked my head into the room.

"Good afternoon, Felicità." I greeted her with a smile. "You wouldn't happen to have come across Debito at any point this morning, would you?"

"Oh, no, I haven't. Have you tried his bedroom?"

"Well, we took a nap in his room earlier this morning, but when I woke up he wasn't next to me anymore. I wonder where he's gone off to, and I don't even know for how long he left before I opened my eyes..."

"Oh, I see." Felicità said with a nod. "I'm sorry I can't be of any help..."

"Don't worry, it's okay. Thank you anyway."

I closed the door, letting Felicità to her paperwork, and exhaled a deep breath.

"This is gonna take a while..." I whispered to myself before I walked off.

It was no surprise I had lost Debito, this was something that happened every now and then; he would disappear, without leaving a trace, and most of the time, without informing anyone of where he was going.

And so, I repeated my exchange with Felicità with the others as I searched the manor, running into Libertà, Nova, and Dante. But none had seen him.

Defeated, I headed to the kitchen in hopes of asking Luca. But when I opened the door to the dining room, I was met with an unexpected sight: the table had been arranged for two people, two sets of silverware placed in front of each other. And as I stepped deeper into the room, the door closed on its own behind me, startling me into a jump. Before I could turn around, I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist, an invisible pair of arms that appeared out of thin air.

"Debito?"

"Surprise, amore." He softly spoke against my cheek before kissing it. "I thought I'd invite you to lunch here in the manor since we always eat out. I had Luca help me out with the food, of course."

I gazed at the neatly set table with a smile as he held me tighter in his embrace and leaned even closer to me.

"So, Bambina, hungry?"

[elpida]

"i don't blame anyone for not getting involved, it's like... dog eat dog there and i.. they're um. they're scary, those people. that sounds really childish but some people are.." the hands, they fumbled again. certain people, even thinking about them set off that nervous habit with her. people that had or had at one point, made her feel small and inferior. part of those nerves she had showed with the idea of being introduced, with chatting and making herself known. if she were honest it made her chest tighten, her throat dry. they weren't all bad, that's what she constantly had to remind herself, like he wasn't bad. "i can give it my best go." eden was willing to try she just needed... a little patience, patience that'd been lost on her for some years now.

"you must trust me a whole lot to tell me where you keep your spare key." she didn't need to prove herself, not when she had so much trouble adjusting as was.. not when she had such a gentle, old soul that quite simply wanted some form of comfort.. some way to feel close to what she'd lost. she had a gentle care to her, a sweet nature in her eyes that so many would exploit and so many had. "i'll use it, only if i need to. thank you."

"ridden a horse? definitely not, closest i ever got was giving one a carrot when i was little. school trip to a petting zoo, i was of course.. more entertained by piglets and baby chicks." it seemed such an oddly quaint thing now, a petting farm. "you.. ride a horse? should i start calling you cowboy?" her growing smirk was charming, dimples showing at the edges of her smile. "don't they kick?" she asked curiously whilst fetching them the silverware to eat, rather than holding it to him she pushed it across the table for him to take. "i wouldn't even know how to approach a horse, let alone get on one i'm a bit short in the height department. wouldn't it be difficult?" her brows shifted. a clear concern. "what if i hurt the horse?" of all the things to worry about. the first bite she took came with a delighted hum, god it was good to eat something like this, fresh eggs, bread, hot food. maybe if she got into the swing of things out here, she'd start putting a bit of weight back on, rather than seeming so frail.

james ought to be angered by that information, yet the man finds he isn't surprised ⸻ perhaps even a touch sad ( because it's just the way things had been before the world had gone to hell, just warped into some new demented form ). releasing a sigh, the man dips his head into a series of several small nods. "yeah ⸻ sounds about right. we occasionally have some who will wander out of the cities and into this neck of the woods. they all say similar things. wish there was a way we could help but.." the last thing any of them wanted was to be put on the map. for people to know they were surviving out here ( arguably thriving ) and then come take what wasn't theres.

hues flicker over her briefly, another frown tugging at his lips that the man turns back to the stove front to hide from the woman. it explains why she's so thin and answers whether or not she'd had anyone around even in more recent years. likely not, if she'd been forced to take scraps ( because had james been there and they known one another, he wouldn't have allowed such a thing ; not to any relation of his ). "that's what the meet ups are for, seeking one another out," he teases with a soft chuckle, "you're welcome to come chat. i'll introduce you to the others." better she had a capable support network that extended beyond just him. "though you're always welcome to swing by here as well. might be out in the field working or hunting in the woods, but you wait around long enough and i tend to be back around noon and sunset. key is hidden under the armrest of the rocker on the front porch if you need to get in."

snatching a nearby dish towel to wrap around the pans handle, james carefully turns to dish out the eggs between the two plates before waving his free hand toward the table. "silverware's in the drawer to the right of the sink." setting the pan aside with a mental note to clean it later, he steps over to sit with a slight huff. "so based on your statement about the sun, i'm gonna guess you've never ridden a horse."

[psithurista]

approach shift pt. two

pairing: Peter Parker x f!reader (TASM/Andrew Garfield version) length: 4k  rating: explicit 18+  warnings: cunnilingus, unprotected PIV sex

Peter Parker is a weirdo. A hot, distracting, irritating weirdo. And you can't afford distractions right now. So there's only one thing to do.

series masterlist

“No foam, half-sweet.” She’s not even looking at you as she speaks, her nails clicking against the glass of her phone’s screen.

You force a smile onto your face, knowing she won’t see it. “Coming right up.”

You’re tense, and tired. Your neck aches from another late night curled uncomfortably with your laptop on the sofa, a recorded lecture playing in front of your glazed-over eyes, your earbuds in. You’d been so out of it that it had taken your roommate three tries to get your attention from across the room; waving a bowl of stir-fry at you.

And even now, as you run a cloth over the wand of the milk frother, your mind is elsewhere. Inside a cold, windowless research lab, to be precise. Sitting on the edge of a metal bench, the quiet tick of the clock on the wall behind you.

You shift you weight from one leg to the other as heat spikes in your lower stomach. The insides of your thighs still tingle with the feeling of him standing between them; the warmth, the tautness. If you breathe slow enough, you can almost still feel him inside you. Unconsciously, your muscles squeeze.

It’s a question you’ve been trying to avoid, but there it is again: is he thinking of you right now, as you are of him? You try to imagine where he is; what he’s doing. It’s hard to place him jogging or working out, but then it also doesn’t feel natural imagining him laying around at home in front of a screen either. You wonder what home is for him. Does he have roommates? Family? What does his bedroom look like? And then, naturally, you’re imagining his bed…with him in it.

“Uh, I said no foam.”

You glance up to see the girl staring at you, one finger pointing at the cup in your hand. “Oh! God, I’m sorry. It’s been a busy day. I’ll make a new one; it’ll only take a sec. Sorry.”

She shrugs, returning to her phone. You grit your teeth. You’ve only got an hour left until closing time. One hour, then a walk to the station, then a subway ride, then another walk, and then—finally—you can lock yourself in your room and work off some of this lingering tension.

You nearly drop the newly-filled takeout cup as she gasps suddenly. “Something’s happening. Not even three blocks away! Someone just posted a Spider-Man pic—really close up, too—like two minutes ago.” She’s waving the phone too fast for you to actually see the screen yourself, and then she spins and darts for the door.

“Wait!” you call. “Your drink!”

She’s already gone, and you sigh. Last time you were this close to a Spider-Man-related incident, there were major train delays, and a police cordon blocking pedestrians from an exclusion zone for the entire length of your street. You’d been outrageously late for work, and the only glimpse you and a handful of excited onlookers had gotten for the trouble was a brief flash of red high overhead.

You find that you simply do not care about whatever’s happening outside. It’ll be all over the news later anyway. And now that there are no customers to serve, you can fill the remaining time with thoughts of your own.

Those thoughts gravitate, again and again, back to the same place. The bump of his teeth against your lip. The breathy quality to his voice. The slightly softened sibilance to some of his consonants; not a lisp exactly, but a definite softness. His fingers. God, his fingers.

You start slowly counting out the cash register, trying to decide which route you should take home. It’s probably easier to walk, rather than risk getting stuck in a carriage for hours. Hopefully whatever had been happening is done now and you won’t be trapped in a crowd of tourists craning their necks up to get pictures.

You’ve just finished wiping the last table when the bell at the top of the door jangles, and your heart plummets. Really? Really?

“We’re closing,” you say, trying to inject more apology than irritation into your voice. “So unless you’re just after a bottle of water or something—”

“I know. I don’t need a bottle of water.” Your head whips up. He stands just inside the doorway, a shy, closed-mouth smile half-lifting his lips.

“Peter?”

“Hey. Hi.” He digs a heavily-shattered phone out of his back pocket, squinting at it before shoving it back. “Oh shit. It’s a lot later than I thought. Sorry. I—I’m glad I caught you in time.”

“What the…why are you so sweaty?” His hair stands up around his head messily, like he’s just stuck his head upside-down into a wind tunnel. Several dark strands are stuck damp to his face, and he wipes his forearm across his brow.

“I guess I was rushing. I was trying to get here earlier but I, uh, got sidetracked for a sec.”

You blink twice, smoothing your hands down over your thighs and hoping you aren’t covered in coffee grounds. You hadn’t even realised he knew where you worked. The only conversation you’ve ever had with him had been the one directly before you’d…

“I wanted to apologise. To you. For the other day, in the lab.”

Coldness trickles into your stomach, and your voice comes out sounding tight. “For what?”

He takes a step toward you, one hand loosely waving into the space between you. “For…I dunno, I should’ve been more…respectful, I think.”

You raise an eyebrow, resting one hand on your hip. “I initiated it. So what exactly are you saying? You don’t think I was chivalrous enough toward you? Gonna tell me I should’ve bought you a drink first?”

He shakes his head emphatically, side to side like he’s trying to dislodge water from his ears. “No, that’s not what I meant. You were great. I’m glad you did—I appreciate it—”

Your eyebrows are furrowed now, and you cut him off. “You’re thanking me?”

His lifts both hands to his hair, gripping it in tufts. He laughs, a short, nervous sound, his teeth pressing into his lower lip. “This isn’t coming out right.”

You notice for the first time that he isn’t in his regular slouchy-looking hoodie. He’s wearing a nice shirt; a deep blue henley, fitted to his broad shoulders. It’s flattering. It’s also inside-out.

“Your shirt is inside-out,” you tell him bluntly.

His soft, dark gaze finally meets yours and something shifts low in your stomach. He takes another step closer, and you need to lift your chin to keep looking up at him.

“I was rude to you. Implying I didn’t want anyone knowing. You didn’t deserve that. And I could’ve been better. Should’ve. Let me make it up to you.”

You stare at him, your mouth open. You should probably tell him that this is unnecessary: he’s overthinking it, it’s sweet that he seems to care how you feel, but you’ve had worse, and this isn’t going to help with your fixation—

His lips meet yours. Your breath rushes out through your nose as he gently coaxes your mouth open, his tongue pressing out, gathering the taste of you. His hands come up to the nape of your neck, gently tilting your head back as he curves down over you.

It’s nothing like last time. He’s assured; focused and intent. Like he’d prepared for this. Like he’d specifically worn a nicer shirt, figured out where you worked, planned to come and find you.

Your head spins as you tentatively curl your trapped hands against the firmness of his chest. He tastes like salt, the sweat on his skin cooling against your cheeks. This is surreal. You were daydreaming about this—about him, and he’s here somehow, his fingers in your hair. And yet he’s still too far away; there are too many clothes in the way, the windows of the cafe exposing you both to the street. You ache for him.

You both break the kiss at the same time.

“Is there a back room—”

“Can we go somewhere—”

He grins embarrassedly at you, his back hunched slightly to keep his face close to yours. You speak first. “There isn’t a back room. Just a bathroom. How far is your place?”

He tilts his head to the side, glancing behind him to peer outside. “Walking? Uhh…ten minutes?” He sounds unsure, like it’s just an estimate.

You snort. “You don’t know?”

“Ah, ha. Yeah, no I usually fly. S’quicker, y’know? Just gotta keep your mouth closed, unless you like pigeon feathers.”

You half-cringe, scoffing. “You really, truly think you’re funny, don't you?”

He slaps a hand to his heart, gasping. “You don’t?”

You shake your head. “Well, your place is closer than mine. Let me lock up real quick.” You spin away, hurrying to close the cabinets you’ve left open as you yank your apron over you head without bothering to untie the strings. It’s the fastest you’ve ever closed, and he raises his eyebrows in silent question as you stride toward the door where he’s leaning on one outstretched arm.

“Come on,” you say, flipping the sign to closed. “I’m following you.”

“Yes ma’am,” he murmurs back, smiling down at his feet.

It’s cold outside. Hard to believe he’d shown up without a coat, unless he ran the whole way here. Which would explain the sweat. You’re about to ask, when he speaks first.

“How’d you like Daniel Deronda?” You glance up at him. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his jeans, his head down. How did he…? “It was sticking out of your bag. The other day. I just noticed it.”

“Oh. It was a re-read. I just like the part where Gwen gets back from her sailing trip and has a complete existential crisis.” He flinches visibly before seemingly forcing himself into a quick recovery, and you pause, curious. “Have you read it?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. Don’t have a lot of time to read for fun. I liked comics when I was a kid.”

“Comics are cool. There’s a place just near my apartment that sells vintage runs, called Reggie’s—”

“Reggie’s Basement. Yeah, I’ve been going there since before I could read on my own. My uncle used to take me sometimes.”

A cab swerves toward the curb to avoid a cyclist, sending up a splash of filthy water from a pothole. Peter steps lithely to one side, yanking you out of the way before you can get drenched. You stumble, grasping onto him. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

He holds onto your shoulders for a beat too long, awkwardly lifting his open palms in a slightly-exaggerated gesture as he steps away. You walk beside him in silence a little longer, bewildered.

Clearing your throat, you attempt to restart the conversation. “You grew up here? In the city?”

“Yep. Queens. You?”

You give him a sideways look. “Nope. Jersey.”

He groans. “You’re ki-dding,” drawing the word out into three syllables. “Well. Nice talking.” He spins as though to walk away, but then keeps pace with you, now backwards on the sidewalk, a wry twist to his expression.

You grin. “Watch where you’re going. You’re going to fall on your ass, and then I’m going to laugh at you.”

“Not me. Catlike reflexes. You should see me dancing.”

“You dance?”

“Sure I dance. I’m a—” he steps sideways, avoiding a fire hydrant, still backwards as he waves his arms. “I’m a great dancer. Like you’ve never seen. Hey! Don’t look at me like that. I am!”

You realise your cheeks hurt a little, and you wonder if it’s the cold or just how hard you’re smiling. His earnestness is infectious; and your chest aches at the slightly insecure way he glances at your face through his eyelashes every time you giggle, as though checking to make sure you’re still with him.

He comes to a stop in front of a bodega with three of its four windows boarded with paint-tagged plywood. “S’a walk up, that okay?”

You nod mutely, following him inside. It’s dim and cracked in the stairwell. You feel strangely nervous all over again; all the ease of the walk dissipating in the yellowish light. And when he unlocks his door, bowing his head and gesturing you inside, your stomach flips over. It had felt a lot easier to scrunch up your courage and make a move when it was spontaneous. But this feels oddly formal; the walk, the conversation, and now the reality of his tiny apartment.

You take a step inside. It’s a studio; the kitchenette overlooking a desk stacked with textbooks, papers and tiny pieces of tech. His bed is tidy, at least; you note with relief that he actually has sheets on his bed—the same, unfortunately, hadn’t been true for some of the other guys’ rooms you’ve been inside. There’s a pair of sweats tangled beside the desk, which he kicks under the bed as he passes.

You find yourself staring at him again as he stands opposite you, gnawing his lower lip and blinking down at your legs. There’s the faintest shadow of stubble on his jaw, a shade darker than his hair. Wisps curl around his ear and down to the nape of his neck. You take a step closer, your heartbeat thrumming in your throat.

“Why’d you change your mind?” you whisper. A tiny line appears between his full eyebrows. His hand comes up to tentatively trace the open edge of your coat, and you shiver as his fingers brush your skin. “You didn’t want to make this a whole thing. But now…”

His breath is warm as he blinks several times. His eyelashes are full and dark. And then he looks up, his eyes darting between yours, lips parted. “I just thought…I guess. I thought it’d be okay. There’d be no harm in…seeing you again. I like you. It was nice. Being with you. And there’s no reason we can’t…be friends. That should be okay, right?” He sounds like he’s doubting his own words, and you’re immensely confused, and he’s heartbreakingly sweet, and it’s cold and you’re nervous and stressed and you like him right back, God, you like him, so you decide to pick up where you’d left off in the cafe and lean up to kiss him again.

Time slows. The random, sporadic sound of a car alarm outside punctuates your movements without seeming to mean anything. You sit on the edge of his mattress and watch as he kneels in front of you, pulling your sneakers off one by one, then your socks. You feel your blood thickening with desire, your thoughts turning syrupy and lazy. He’s entirely unhurried, loosening your blouse as though unwrapping something precious, one button at a time. You lean your weight back on your hands to watch as he lifts your hips, easing your jeans down over your thighs.

When he rolls your underwear off your legs, you let yourself lay back, your eyes fluttering closed to the sight of the water-stained popcorn ceiling. The feeling of his lips inside the softness between your knees, up to your thighs, in every crease and dimple of your skin, all sears straight to your core. Thoughts burst in your head: you haven’t showered yet, you’re pretty sure your phone is dead and your roommates are probably worrying, the finals next week…and as fast as they appear, they’re gone again, overwhelmed by the smell of his skin on the sheets beneath you.

He kisses higher, closer, and when his lips meet the heat of your aching cunt you jerk, your muscles clenching.

“S’okay,” he breathes into your core, his hands spreading your legs wider. “I got you.”

He closes his lips around your clit, enveloping you in warmth as his tongue works against you. Every pass makes you tense anew, and you lift your feet to the bed either side of him, bracing yourself as your hips shift restlessly.

He groans into you, opening his mouth and sucking messily at your soaked cunt. You gasp, scrabbling at the bedding beneath you as his tongue circles your clit in steady, gentle strokes. It feels like heaven, tightening every muscle as you rock against him.

“Pete—Peter…” His name comes out garbled somewhere between a sigh and a whimper. Encouraged, he leans up onto his knees, and you glance down at the top of his messy brown hair. The angle’s changed like this; his long neck arching as he focuses on you, his eyes closed. He slides his hand up between your legs, sinking two fingers knuckle-deep into the tightness of your hole and making your breathing hitch at the intrusion. He crooks his fingers, curling them upward, and the feeling instantly wrenches a weakly roughened exhale from you, the heat of his mouth never leaving your clit.

As he works you into a rhythm, your eyes roll shut again. Your spine arches, the feeling too much, but with the mattress beneath you, there’s nowhere to go.

“Oh shit, oh, oh, shit, you’re gonna make me…”

Your chanting breaks off into a harsh little wail as everything below your waist squeezes almost painfully tight, fresh heat soaking his still-pumping hand. From the centre of your body, pleasure sharp enough to numb you blinds everything for several long, drawn-out moments, and you gasp for breath, your chest heaving. You aren’t sure how long it takes before you’re coming back down to the feeling of him climbing up onto the bed over you, leaning on his elbows. You drag your eyes open to see his face hovering close to yours, his lips glistening with the evidence of your orgasm.

And then your hands are grasping at him, trying to simultaneously yank his shirt off while pulling him down closer to you. You feel the muscles in his back flex as he holds himself up one-handed, reaching down to help you. Freed from the shirt, he proceeds to kick his jeans off, and you’re rewarded with the feeling of his lithe solidity bare against you once more. Pale bruises are scattered across the lower half of his ribcage, so fresh that they’re still deepening.

He grasps his cock in his fist, barely pressing at your still-sensitive cunt and pausing. You don’t give him a chance to say whatever it is he’s thinking before you’re pushing him sideways, onto his back. Bewilderment flashes across his features in the brief second before you’re straddling his narrow waist, sinking yourself down until his entire length splits you open. His eyelashes flutter shut, and as you bear down, his hands blindly skate up your thighs, digging into the plush of your skin.

You begin to roll yourself against him, relishing the feeling of fullness. Like this, he’s deep; deep enough to nudge at something sharp inside you, and you readjust until—right there—his hardness drives against the place that makes you feel mindless and weak. You chase it, grinding yourself hard into the growing pleasure until your breaths shorten with exertion, your breasts feeling heavy against your chest. The shitty mattress beneath you squeaks with every bounce as you drop your weight onto him, but you can’t find it in you to care whether he has neighbours; whether they’re listening.

All that matters is this moment; him, his head thrown back, lips parted as his hands glide up onto your waist, encouraging your movements, pulling you back and forth onto his length. The cresting sense of release rushes up to you so fast you have no time to prepare, and you convulse, bending at the middle and collapsing over him as your cunt squeezes his length in a wash of hot, roaring bliss.

Your face is buried in the crook of his neck as he thrusts up into you, holding your ass cupped in his palms to keep you steadily in place. When he empties himself inside you, he crushes your body closer to him, driving himself deep and holding you there until you can feel the last pulses of his cock slowing.

You stay draped over his chest until he softens, both your hearts rabbiting in your chests, separated only by skin and bone. His fingers are lightly tracing the length of your spine, and it’s with sticky reluctance that you ease yourself off, rolling instead onto your side and facing him on the bed. His dark eyes are soft as he blinks at you, his lips parted to show his teeth.

“Was that better?” he breathes, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Than last time, I mean.”

You shake your head weakly. “There…was nothing wrong with last time.”

“Yeah, but this was still better, right? Like, how’s my score looking?”

You groan, slapping a hand over your face. “That was an eight.”

His grin looks vaguely goofy as he leans closer. “Ouch. That’s harsh, Miss Jersey.”

“Okay, eight and a half.”

“Not the worst, then.”

“No. But still room for improvement.”

He laughs quietly. “Got it.”

You sit up, crossing your arms over your chest and reaching around your feet for your clothes. The room feels clammy with sweat and sex, and your attention catches on the sight of a single takeout container left sitting on the cracked laminate counter. You want to stay here.

“I need to go,” you tell him, standing and smoothing your hair back from your face. “My roommates probably think I’ve been eaten by a monster or something.”

He’s pulling his jeans back on, and you watch his lean forearms flex as he closes the fly. “Ah. Valid fear, actually. Can I walk you home?”

You’re shrugging back into your coat when you pause, looking across at where he leans against the desk. First visiting you at work, now offering to walk you home? It’s sweet, and thoughtful, and completely contradictory to the loose agreement you’d established at the beginning: just to itch the particular scratch that had charged the energy between you. But this is normal, right? For friends? So you lift one shoulder, shaking your head. “I’ll be fine. Thank you, though. I guess I’ll see you Tuesday.”

He nods, ducking his head, seemingly shy again as you turn to leave.

As you let yourself back out onto the street, the edge of uneasy sadness still swimming somewhere in your chest resurfaces. You can’t put your finger on it at first; unsure whether it’s lingering awkwardness, or worry about the repercussions of this latest development in whatever it is that’s unfolding between you.

You’re three blocks from home when you decide it’s not because of the shittiness of his apartment; after all, yours isn’t a whole lot better, and considering he’s not splitting the rent with anyone, it’s a relatively decent place to live.

No, the thing you’d been bothered most of all by was the sight of the single set of cutlery sitting in his sink, beside the glass drying upside-down. This, out of every hint you’ve gathered about self-effacing, sweet, confusing, embarrassing, decidedly-uncool Peter Parker, is the hardest thing you’ve learned: he’s lonely.