#HER STILL BEING OBLIVIOUS AT THAT POINT IS SO FUNNY THOUGH.

[bunni-v1]

MORE JEALOUS PURE VANILLA COOKIE OMGGGG he'd totally be a jealous person despite his kindness

kinda imagining that in the stage during the push and pull he was doing, trying to push you away, you become quite close to some other cookies in the kingdom, specifically the creme Republic (clotted cream and financier) and he just gets.... uncomfortable when you two are FINALLY together because you're so friendly with clotted cream and his bodyguard.... like, hello.........

his eyes narrow slightly, and it just makes him feel so unpleasant, knowing that clotted cream cookie can easily strike up conversation with you and randomly tell him something you like—it makes his dough seethe slightly, whether he wants to admit it or not. or how financier and some random vanilla kingdom npcs mention a fact about you he coincidentally doesn't know because he was busy going through it and pushing you away before; OUGHHHHHH

i like to think white lily is involved in this in some way? he can't fully get over her and sometimes he tends to get passive about your very real concerns about how he looks at her as though he has something to say, i wonder how he would react if he finds you actually a bit insecure or unsure whether he'd pick you over her......... since he still cares deeply about his once first love, no?

anyways. yes. jealous PV is a concept that sticks heavily in my mind rn

-🃏

Jealousy Looks Ugly on You

🍓Hi pookiebear, I'm so sorry for 100% butchering the Creme Republic. I refuse to play that shit, even for that stupid blonde twink. Note, this takes place significantly after the events of Beast Yeast, so White Lily is technically visiting as a diplomat from the Faerie kingdom, and pv has already had his character development lol. Assumptions are made, and there is heavily implied past PureLily.

Tw: Poor communication; jealousy; implications at the very end; grammar/spelling errors

Info: Pure Vanilla x Reader; Implied past purelily; angst (not really though); fluff

Patience is a virtue that few cookies can claim to have. It's something that doesn't come easy to most, and Pure Vanilla Cookie has never judged anyone for being unable to hold themselves back from frustration. Except... himself of course.

He was exceptionally patient, to the point most gawked at him for his gentleness and understanding in certain situations. He held himself to a higher standard, and very few things brought out irritation in him. So... why exactly was the sight of Clotted Cream Cookie making his dough run so hot right now?

It wasn't as though Clotted Cream was doing anything offensive, quite the opposite actually. He was having a pleasant conversation, all warm smiles and... gentle touches. With who? Oh. Just the object of Pure Vanilla's deepest affections, the cookie he'd only recently been able to call his other half, his dearly beloved you.

Clotted Cream seems to speak to you with such familiarity, such warmth like perhaps he too harbors some kind of affection for you. Pure Vanilla's eyebrow twitches when he leans in to whisper something in your ear, and you laugh like it's the funniest thing you've ever heard. It nearly pulls a frown out of him, but his calm smile remains steadfast, not wanting you to notice and worry over him.

Still, his eyes narrow when Clotted Cream pats you on your shoulder good-naturedly. The former cookie locking eyes with him and smiling before sending you back to his side like he hadn't earned Pure Vanilla's ire only seconds ago. You are oblivious, as you always are, as he wants you to be. He only smiles at you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you just a little closer than he normally does.

"Did you enjoy your time with Clotted Cream Cookie, my love?" He asks sweetly, though he doesn't really want to know.

You give him a beaming smile, "As always. He knows how to make boring proceedings fun."

"Ah," he hopes you don't notice how he tenses, "What were you talking about just now, it seemed funny."

"Just an inside joke," you smile fondly as you remember, "it's only funny if you were there, or else I'd let you in on it too."

"That's alright," he hums, though his fingers press a little harder into your side as you walk, "I'm just happy to see you happy."

It's not a lie, either. He does love seeing your smile, but not when it's caused by another cookie. Not when it's treated like some kind of secret he's not meant to see. He tries to remind himself that there's no need to be so immature, but his dough is already warm and his mind spiraling. It took him so very long to come to terms with his feelings for you, he missed out on so much. Where he wasn't, other cookies were, and those cookies took his place in experiences that should've been his. Took smiles that should've been his. Moments he should've shared with you.

You place your hand where he holds you at your waist, turning to give him a warm smile. It warms his heart to know you're caring for him in your own way, but he doesn't want to make you worry. To ease your mind, he presses a kiss to your forehead, offering his own smile up to you. You were with him now, there was no need to worry any longer.

·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·

Pure Vanilla enjoyed quiet moments with you, especially ones like this. In the garden, surrounded by the white lilies there was nothing more peaceful than that. Your fingers run along their delicate petals as you hum a little tune to yourself, and he enjoys the sight with unbridled delight. His favorite cookie surrounded by his favorite flowers, what a blessing it is on his soul.

There are times where he wishes that every day could be like this. Just you and him in company, taking things nice and slow, soaking in the environment. You turn a little to sneak a glance at him, smiling to yourself when you notice his staring. The shyness cute on your face, something he loves to draw out of you.

Yes moments like these are exactly what he lives fo—

“Y/n Cookie? Are you around?” The familiar voice of Financier Cookie calls amongst the sea of flowers.

You perk up, standing from your spot with a wide smile, “I’m over here with the lilies!”

She comes into view around the corner, normally stern expression softening at the sight of you. Pure Vanilla does not like the look on her face. Still, he holds his tongue, there was no reason to be upset. She was a friend.

“Clotted Cream requests your presence,” She announces, and when you frown she shakes her head, “Nothing serious, he wishes to continue your conversation from yesterday. He’s in he quarters as usual.”

You brighten up, “Oh! I suppose we never did finish talking— ah, but… Pure Vanilla and I were spending some time together.”

He does not frown, though he really wants to. He knows that he could just say no, that you would remain by his side if he asked… but he can’t possibly take up your time when you are wanted elsewhere. It would be unfair to do so over such petty jealousy.

“We see each other every day,” He assures with that same gentle smile, “Go and enjoy yourself. You deserve it.”

You frown a little, “Are you sure?”

Of course he isn’t, “Positive. I’ll see you tonight.”

You hesitate for a moment, glancing at him worriedly, but ultimately wander off to find Clotted Cream. Financier stays back for a moment, watching you with an odd look on her face. The consideration is enough to pique his interest, so he raises his question.

“Is something the matter…?”

“Oh, no, nothing,” She shakes her head, “I would tell you immediately if there was anything to be concerned with.”

“Then why do you look so perplexed?” He asks again.

She seems to consider if telling him the truth is worth it or not. Mulling her options over for a few seconds before sighing, “It’s just a bit… odd to see them here.”

He frowns, “Whatever do you mean? Is there something wrong with the gardens?”

She shakes her head, sighing off some kind of weight, “Well, they’ve told me a few times in passing that they’re… not a fan of while lillie’s. The smell irritates them, if I’m remembering correctly, so it’s surprising to find them surrounded by them.”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware…” He mutters, grip tightening on his staff.

She gives him a small reassuring smile, but it does anything but help, “I’m sure they just forgot to mention it, that’s all.”

“Of course, thank you Financier Cookie,” He hummed with as much sincerity he could muster.

She smiles tightly at him, and then leaves him alone with his thoughts. And think he does, far too much. Not only are you so close with so many cookies, not only did you leave him for Clotted Cream today, but now he learns you don’t even care for his favorite flower? You hadn’t ever mentioned it to him, but you had to other cookies. Wouldn’t something this important be worth talking about with him?

He takes a deep breath, leveling himself out once again. He couldn’t get ahead of himself, knowing that you would never do anything to hurt him purposefully. He couldn’t stop the ache, though. There was so much he did not know about you, so many things he had to learn that other cookies got to hear without asking.

How much time would it take for him to know you the way they did? He burned with jealousy at how easy it was for other cookies to know you, to see you and talk to you with no effort. Each time you were around he felt himself falling apart at the seams, grasping at any little sprinkle of attention you gave him. He could never be so casual with you, not with the effect you had on him, and it made him so jealous to know other cookies had it so easy.

He sighs again, setting his hat down. Not even the lilies were bringing him comfort now, his mood soured yet again. All he could do was sit and seethe until you returned to his side, imagining what you and Clotted Cream might be talking about that was so important to pluck you from his side.

·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·

It is days of this cycle, which he refuses to break, even when given the chance to a million times. He just can’t find it in himself to step in, not when you seem so happy. Besides, it’s not as though he never sees you. He gets to have you to himself for most of the day, and especially at night.

Still, the annoyance grows in his chest little by little. Without realizing it he distanced himself from you, not wanting to overstep, he decides giving you space is for the best. Yet, he doesn’t realize just how much space he has given you. You begin to miss him, but he always has an excuse for you to go and visit with other cookies.

It feels like he does not want you around, even though he misses you dearly. The conundrum reaches a head when White Lily comes to visit. Being the Faerie Queen now, it was rare she took the time to see her old friend. So when the news of her traveling reached his ears, he cleared all his time to be with her.

You had not seen him since she had arrived, unless you were in your shared room. Even then, you hardly spoke more than a few words. There was an awkwardness there that hadn’t existed only a few days prior, it made your stomach ache. But how could you bring up your concerns when he merely brushed them away, always finding some way to make peace with the situation.

You did not hate White Lily Cookie, she couldn’t not control Pure Vanilla. But the sickness in your dough when you see them together does not go away with any soothing. He talks to her with such ease and knowing, in a way he never did with you. And when he looks at her there is a deep affection that never existed for you.

It makes you hurt. You could never be her, not in a million years. Perhaps that was why he was so distant recently, because he had missed her. Perhaps he wished that you were White Lily Cookie instead.

Despite him seeming oblivious, he was anything but. He was fully aware of the distance he had made between the two of you, and yet… he didn’t know how to fix it. His people pleasing ways had come around to stab him in the back, and he had no idea how to heal the wound inflicted by his own foolish actions.

Not until White Lily’s keen eyes picked up in the tension. She had always been able to read him well, it was why he was so fond of her. She knew him like no other cookie did, and he her. Which is exactly why she was the one to notice how worried he’d seemed.

“You’re tense,” She said simply, taking her seat next to him in the pagoda.

He sighs, “Is it obvious.”

“To me,” She smiles, “Tell me what’s on your mind, friend. It’s rare to see you so worried.”

He frowns at her, all the tension and fear from the week flooding him now that she was confronting it, “I am afraid I may be ruining my relationship.”

She blinks at him, tilting her head, “How would you be doing that?”

After a moments hesitation he lists the ways he has been dealing with the situation. The worry that he will never be close enough to you. The annoyance in his chest when other cookies are chummy with you. The distance he has created to avoid those feeling only making them worse. She smiles through the whole thing, knowingly.

“So… you’re jealous?” She chuckles, leaning forward with a teasing smile.

“I… suppose I am,” He admits, “It’s not as though the feeling is new, but it’s never been so strong…”

She laughs at him again, “Because you are in love, silly. Of course it’s stronger, have you talked to them about it.”

“Well…”

“Pure Vanilla.” She scolds, “Goodness, when will you ever learn. You can’t people please all the time, it’s not good for your health.”

He sighs, nodding along in agreement, “I know, I just don’t know how to bring it up so I deflect. And I’ve been avoiding them since you arrived, I can tell they feel horrible, but I fear I’ve gone too far.”

She hushes him, grabbing his hand in her own, “It’s never too late if the intent is there. I’m sure they’ll understand if you just talk to them. I would.”

“Thank you White Lily,” He smiles genuinely for the first time since she arrived, “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

She smiles warmly at him, squeezing his hand tightly. She always had a way to ease his worries with her words. It was just how well she knew him, she knew just what he needed as always.

A throat clears to the side of them, drawing their attention to it. White Lily reacts first, pulling her hands away from him and offering you a smile.

“Am I interrupting?” You ask, mousy with voice shaking.

“Of course not,” She assures, “We were just talking about you, actually!”

Your expression relaxes a bit, inching forward as if one of them might deny you entry, “Nothing bad I hope…”

“Never,” Pure Vanilla speaks with such warmth that you almost forget how much you’d missed him this whole time, “Please come join us.”

So you do, and you sit and talk with them, and things are nearly normal. Pure Vanilla is back to his usual affectionate self, like nothing ever happened. But you catch the way he and White Lily exchange glances, the way banter comes to them more easily than it ever has to you. They just understood each other in a way you never have, and you couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. Especially not after he’d pushed you away so much.

Eventually, White Lily leaves with the excuse of needing rest. Yet, you know it’s to give the two of you space. She’s always been observant and understanding, and you’re grateful for her consideration. When it is just you and Pure Vanilla again, you feel the tension begin to creep back between you. The thick wall of awkwardness wedging between you, and you fear for a moment that this is how it will be forever now. Then, he takes your hands in his, leaning over the table to get closer to you.

“I have to apologize,” He begins, “I have been unfair to you, and we have both suffered because of my actions.”

“Pure Vanilla—“ You want to ease his worries for some reason, tell him it’s alright, but he doesn’t allow you to.

“It took me a very long time to let you in, and because of that I fell short on sharing important moments with you. I’ve found myself… envious of other cookies who take up your time, and I’ve been immature in how I handle it,” He admits, stroking the backs of your hands, “I’ve put too much distance between us, and I can see how much it pains you. I’m so sorry for how I’ve acted, I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me.”

It takes you a moment of awkward blinking to take in all he said, and while his genuineness is sweet, you can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your stomach. It’s ridiculous when you think about it. He was jealous so he avoided you, and at the same time you were just as jealous of White Lily Cookie. It was silly, and so easily solved, yet neither of you were willing to upset the other. He seems to find the humor in it all too, laughing heartily at your side.

You laugh until your sides hurt and tears are streaming from your eyes. Leaning your full weight on him so you don’t collapse to the floor. When you finally calm, you find it in yourself to admit to your own plight.

“I would be harsh on you, but I’m just as guilty of jealousy.” You sigh, squeezing his fingers in yours.

“What do you have to be jealous of?” He asks, and you almost can’t believe he doesn’t know. It’s so obvious to everyone else around him that he still adores White Lily, everyone but him it seems.

You shake your head in disbelief, “Gosh, you’re so oblivious. You really don’t know how you look at her, do you?”

He shakes his head with a deep frown.

“When you look at White Lily, I can see how much you still love her. I know you would never hurt me or betray me like that, but it does hurt when I see how you treat her. I feel like… maybe you’ll never look at me like that.” You admit, voice small and shaky the longer you go. It was hard to come to terms with how much it hurt, and worse to say out loud to him. He could reject you, pretend your feelings aren’t real.

Instead, he tucks a finger under you chin and forces your eyes on him, “I already do… I just get so embarrassed when you’re looking that I hide it from you.”

He pulls you a little closer, “I still love White Lily, but not in the same way that I love you. You are my whole world, my love. I would never leave you, not for anyone, and I’m sorry I made you worry for even a moment.”

You smile softly at him, leaning into his touch, “Next time, I think we should both just talk about it? All this dodging each other is silly.”

“I agree,” He chuckles, “I much prefer talking to you than not.”

“Very good,” You hum, sliding your arms around his shoulders, “Shall we make it up to each other then?”

His hand tug you closer by your waist, “I think that would be very nice, yes.”

[fujii-draws]

idk whats funnier: Ribbons not realizing she's in love until she evolves into a Sylveon, or evolving into a Sylveon and still not figuring it out for like a week

too busy being fae and stealing humus

HEEEEELP. TOO BUSY LEADING POKEMON INTO HER MUSHROOM CIRCLE WHERE THEY WAKE UP AT 4AM WITH IRON DEFICIENCY. She can figure out her qp feelings towards Aimilios LATER. She needs to steal people’s IDENTITIES.

[angelfic]

theodore nott x reader

warnings — kissing, kinda pg-13, mentions of drinking/smoking the usual stuff blah blah etc etc

a/n; truly thought another theo fic written by me would never see the light of day but here we are <3 this was meant to be a tiny drabble btw I hate myself!!!! NOT PROOFREAD!

THEODORE NOTT is shy.

he doesn’t understand why people find him intimidating. well, actually, that’s not completely true. he knows that people avoid him when he’s with his friends because they’re doing stupid shit like when enzo and draco are hexing each other for fun. or when mattheo starts scrapping out in the corridor because someone looked at him wrong and blaise is egging him on.

and, okay, maybe theo will jump in at some point too. in his defence, it’s only when the other guy’s friend starts in on him first.

but his friends aside, theo doesn’t understand why people think he’s intimidating when he’s by himself. it’s not his fault his resting face is daunting.

he wishes he could change it sometimes. girls will still come up to him at parties in the common room once he’s had a couple of drinks, but at the risk of becoming an alcoholic, he can’t be that loose all of the time.

theo wishes more than ever that he could cast some sort of spell on himself when you talk to him. you share a few classes, much to theo’s delight, but it’s not like he’s taking advantage of the fact.

every time you speak to him, his brain short circuits and he feels like a piece of muggle technology being fried by the wards of hogwarts. sometimes it’ll be something small like when you ask him to pass over the pot of lacewing flies in potions and he just stares at you.

“uhm, we’ve run out of them on our table,” you explain after a few seconds of silence, giving him a little smile. you point to the ingredients and raise your brows. “so…?”

he knows for a fact that his face is set in a blank expression that probably looks pissed off, especially when he catches sight of your friend at the table next door who practically looks concerned for your safety.

but his ears are burning and he feels like someone’s electrocuted him when he finally hands over the pot without looking at you and your finger brushes against his for a nanosecond.

“thanks,” you say, sincerely, a smile still gracing your lips as he offers you a stiff nod. you act as though you just had a completely normal interaction and it has theo stressing out because what if you see right through him?

another time, you’re late to history of magic and there are two seats left. one near the front and the other next to theo. you rush over and take out your things, barely registering who you’re sitting with, but theo is hyper-aware. no one ever willingly sits next to him aside from his friends.

once you’re settled, it appears that the rush of being late has left you quickly due to the monotone voice of professor bins and instead you’re fighting to stay awake. theo would know, since he keeps throwing glances your way.

at one point professor binns drones on about known cases of dragon pox and when he starts to list the symptoms, including a green and purple rash, theo mutters under his breath to mattheo, “much rather that than having to sit here for another bloody hour.”

his eyes flick over to you, surprised when you let out an unexpected snort of laughter. mattheo, having fallen asleep on his desk unbeknownst to theo, is oblivious to theo’s comment. instead, you’re the one covering your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from laughing too hard and theo physically can’t stop his lips from quirking up. he made you laugh.

later that day, he overhears your friend apologising for not saving you a seat in class. “i can’t believe you went and sat next to nott. i’m surprised he didn’t tell you to piss off.”

you immediately shush her, and your next words make him feel like he just ran a marathon. “i still don’t know what you mean. he’s nice… and funny,” you say simply, shrugging.

he repeats the words in his head over and over until the next time you talk to him, which happens to be at a party in the slytherin common room.

outside the party, actually. theo goes to sit right outside the common room entrance with his cup and a cigarette, partly to smoke and partly to get away from some of the girls who were flocking to him and his friends after they had all had a few drinks.

he’s exhaling a puff of smoke right as you’re quietly exiting the party to take a seat next to him and as soon as he spots you, he accidentally inhales the smoke the wrong way and coughs.

“sorry,” he mutters, waving the smoke away before it can go near you. he feels stupid and decides to just dump the thing into his cup before setting it aside. alcohol makes him looser, but it doesn’t make him completely immune to you.

“it’s fine,” you smile, crossing your legs as you settle on the ground next to him. “how come you’re out here every time there’s a party?”

“too loud,” he explains, letting his head rest against the wall as he starts to feel the buzz kicking in. “that, and to get away from all my adoring fans of course.”

this makes you laugh and theo, in his tipsy state, adorns a lazy grin at the sound, not bothering to hide that he’s looking at you.

“i don’t think there was a single girl who didn’t try chatting you or your friends up in there,” you shake your head, amused.

theo swallows, noticing the way you’re fiddling with the hem of your dress and he wonders if it bothers you. he blames the vodka for making him so bold when he says, “you and your friends didn’t.”

“my friends are scared of you,” you reply, raising your eyebrows as if to ask him if he’s surprised. “they think you’re always glaring at me.”

“nah,” he mumbles, looking at you through slightly hooded eyes. the dimly lit corridor makes your skin glow in a way that has him feeling a bit in awe, and he finds himself blurting out the first thing that comes to mind. “have they considered i’m staring at you because i think you’re fit?”

he promptly wants to punch himself in the face.

weirdly enough, you don’t look taken aback. you tilt your head as if pleasantly surprised, and your lips quirk up into the ghost of a smirk. “i have to say that explains a lot.”

“how so?” he asks, hesitant to know your answer. his heart stutters when you move closer to him and get up slightly to crouch beside him. your fingers reach out to tuck some of his hair behind his ear and he freezes, utterly still.

“well,” you say softly, a teasing glimmer in your eyes. “every time you speak to me the tips of your ears turn pink.”

and then you get up and leave and theo thinks his face has gone numb. he doesn’t remember much else from that evening, but the next morning his friends are asking him why he looks like he wants to kill someone.

he doesn’t know how to tell them that the someone he’s wanting to kill is himself for telling you he thinks you’re fit.

channeling the embarrassment into something useful, he tries to focus all his energy on the quidditch match he’s in against ravenclaw.

it goes by in a blur and somehow they’ve won, and theo thanks his lucky stars that they have because draco would surely have killed him for throwing the match due to being distracted.

the others run off quickly to the common room to celebrate, and theo tells them he’ll be right there, allowing himself to linger in the changing rooms for some peace and quiet before the inevitable celebrations.

“hey.”

he spins around, still in uniform with sweat dampening his hair and his green eyes fall on you in surprise. “uh. hi. what are you doing here?” he asks, uncertainly after the events of the night before. he hopes to Godric his ears are covered right now.

“just came to congratulate you,” you say with a playful smile.

theo’s brows furrow and his shoulders involuntarily slump slightly. he isn’t sure what he expected you to say, but it wasn’t that. “oh.”

you push yourself off the doorframe and enter the room, slowly walking closer to him. he’s never been more grateful for deodorant in his life.

“and one more thing,” you add, inching closer still.

“mhm?” theo is practically holding his breath in anticipation, and when you reach out to gently touch his arm, he stiffens for a second.

“i think you’re fit too.”

a startled laugh leaves him at your whispered words and instead of saying thank you, he finds himself stepping forward to clear the air and say what he’s been thinking since the party.

“i don’t think you’re fit,” he starts, face dropping when your smile falters. “shit, no, i mean you are. fuck,” he breathes out, dragging a hand down his face.

you take in the faint blush creeping up his neck that definitely wasn’t there right after he finished the match and allow him a second to gather himself.

“you’re beautiful,” he stammers, closing the gap between the two of you in earnest. he faintly registers the fact that he’s practically towering over you and leans down in an attempt to be less intimidating. “like, crazy beautiful. i meant to say that yesterday instead of sounding like an absolute twat, but i mean, what else is new when i’m around you-“

you cut him off by grabbing him by the collar of his quidditch jersey and pulling him down to press your lips against his in a firm, unyielding kiss. he stiffens, hands hovering uncertainly at his sides for a moment as though he’s frozen, but it isn’t long before he’s reacting, as though he’s suddenly woken up.

his hands find your waist immediately, pulling you into him and straightening up slightly to deepen the kiss, pulling you up slightly to stand on your tiptoes as your lips slot against his.

theo breaks the kiss to meet your eyes with his own wide ones, rushing out words between kisses. “i don’t think you understand just how long…” he exhales into your mouth, kissing you firmly. “i’ve been wanting to do…” he nips at your bottom lip, making you gasp. “this,” he finishes, grinning into the kiss when you melt against him.

theo takes the opportunity to reach his hands down to your thighs, lifting you up and carrying you over to the wall where he’s suddenly kissing you with a new confidence, moving to pepper kisses down your jaw and onto your neck.

you tuck a finger under his chin to lift his face up to yours where you match his grin, your lips swollen and eyes glazed over. he’s never seen a more beautiful sight.

“took you long enough.”

a/n cont.; I hate this soooo bad it was meant to be a silly little drabble and now it’s a block of uncapitalised mess but I’d put too much time into it (less than a day) so here u are I GUESS. take a shot every time I write a kiss that starts exactly that way

[xuchiya]

embarassingly cute || park seonghwa || one-shot

|genre: college! seonghwa. college! reader. just pure fluff and embarrassment. |mentions: nothing really.

summary: A simple habit of holding your best friend’s arm to navigate the chaos of the mall takes an unexpected turn. Fifteen minutes pass before you realize your mistake—but by then, it’s not just your arm that’s caught in an unexpected twist of fate.

word count: 1.1k

Malls always felt like mazes to me, with their endless rows of shops, glaring lights, and the constant ebb and flow of crowds. Ever since I was little, I had this habit of wrapping my arm around my friend Sam's whenever we went shopping. It wasn’t just a quirky gesture; it was my anchor, my way of feeling grounded and ensuring I wouldn’t get lost in the chaos.

“You always hold onto me like a little duckling,” Sam would tease, though she never pulled away. She knew how much it meant to me. I hum, looking at her, " 'Cuz you my mama duck." She playfully stuck her tongue out and I pouted, "You love me." 

"Whatever you say, duckling." Today was no different. Sam, along with our other friends, and I had decided to spend a lazy afternoon strolling through the mall. They were busy window shopping whilst I found myself reaching for her arm almost instinctively as we meandered through the crowd, my eyes darting from one store display to the next.

“Look at those shoes!” I gasped, tugging her toward a storefront before I even heard a reply. Sam usually humored me with an indulgent smile or a sarcastic comment about my taste, yet maybe something inside her just sighs and lets me have my ways.

As the minutes stretched on, I felt more comfortable,and my usual habit just casually flowed in, playing her fingers or even intertwining them. The comforting weight of her arm against mine was enough to let my mind wander freely. I kept pointing out pretty signs, dazzling bags, and even an outrageously overpriced pen shaped like a flamingo.

“You’re so quiet today, Sam,” I remarked absently, turning my head briefly to glance at her before being distracted by another sparkling window display. “Are you tired?”

Behind me, I could hear muffled laughter, but I didn’t think much of it. My other friends were always giggling about something or other, not that it worried me or anything but it just made me feel curious as to what made them smile and giggle this much.

“Seriously, what’s so funny?” I huffed, finally glancing back, only to find them walking a few steps behind, their faces red from suppressed laughter.

“Nothing, nothing!” one of them wheezed, her shoulders shaking. I frowned but didn’t press further, figuring it was some inside joke I wasn’t privy to. It wouldn’t be the first time. Instead, I turned back to Sam, still holding her arm, intertwining our hands together as we continued our walk.

“Come on mama duck, let’s head this way!” I chirped, dragging her toward a shop with a dazzling display of keychains in the window. “Look at that! Isn’t it the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?”

Sam didn’t respond, but I barely noticed. My excitement always took over in moments like these. I tugged her inside the shop, oblivious to the amused glances from my friends trailing behind us.

The shop was small and cozy, with racks of colorful trinkets lining the walls. My gaze flitted from one adorable keychain to the next, my grip still firm on her arm. “Which one do you think suits me better—the bunny or the cat?” I asked, holding up two options.

When there was no reply, I glanced up, expecting to see Sam’s teasing smirk or her exaggerated eye roll. Instead, I was met with a shy, startled expression framed by soft black hair and wide brown eyes that definitely did not belong to Sam.

I blinked. Once. Twice.

“Oh no,” I breathed, my heart dropping into my stomach.

It wasn’t Sam. It wasn’t Sam at all.

The realization hit me like a freight train, my mind scrambling to replay the last… fifteen minutes? Oh my gosh, I had been dragging a complete stranger around for fifteen minutes!

“I—I thought—” Words failed me as mortification settled in. I dropped his arm as if it had burned me, stepping back with wide eyes. “You’re not Sam,” I finally managed to squeak out, my voice barely above a whisper.

The stranger—Park Seonghwa, my brain supplied belatedly, recognizing his striking features from our university—gave me a soft, apologetic smile. His cheeks were tinged with a faint pink that mirrored the heat rising in mine. “I tried to tell you,” he murmured, his voice gentle and almost apologetic. “But you seemed really… happy.”

I wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” I blurted out, waving my hands as if that could somehow erase the last fifteen minutes. “I wasn’t paying attention, and I just—I thought you were my friend, and—”

“It’s okay,” he interrupted, his voice calm and soothing. “Really. You seemed so excited, I didn’t want to ruin it.”

From behind us, my friends burst into peals of laughter, clearly enjoying my humiliation. “She called him ‘mama duck!’” one of them howled, clutching her stomach.

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “I’m never going to live this down,” I muttered under my breath.

“It wasn’t so bad,” Seonghwa said softly, his tone almost… fond. I peeked at him through between my fingers, surprised to see him smiling—shy but genuine, like he didn’t mind being dragged around the mall by a stranger.

Before I could muster up another apology, the cashier called for me to pay. I quickly handed over the money for the bunny keychain—because of course I’d forgotten all about the cat one—and turned back to Seonghwa, clutching the tiny trinket like a lifeline.

“Here,” I said, thrusting it toward him, placing it on his palm. “Take this. As an apology...”

His eyes widened slightly as he accepted the keychain, holding it as if it were something fragile and precious. “Thank you,” he said softly, his fingers brushing mine for the briefest moment.

The warmth in his gaze caught me off guard, and for a second, the embarrassment melted away, replaced by something softer.

Behind us, my friends were already making plans to roast me for the rest of the day, but before they could drag me away, Seonghwa hesitated.

“Wait,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

I turned back to him, my heart racing for reasons I couldn’t quite understand.

“Before you go,” he began, his cheeks turning pink again, “Would it… would it be okay if we met again? On purpose this time?”

I stared at him, my brain struggling to process his words.

“You want to hang out?” I asked dumbly, my voice cracking slightly. He nodded, his shy smile widening just enough to make my heart flutter. “If that’s okay with you.”

For a moment, I forgot all about the embarrassment, the laughter, and the teasing. All I could think about was the earnestness in his eyes and the unexpected sweetness of the moment.

“Yeah,” I said finally, a small smile tugging at my lips. “I think I’d like that.”

As I rejoined my friends, their teasing ringing in my ears, I couldn’t help but glance back. Seonghwa was still standing there, the bunny keychain in his hand and a smile on his face that I was pretty sure matched mine.

[sku-nk]

I've been inspired Skunk. Do you lnow that TikTok trend where it's like "When they're all up on my girl in public but she thinks they're just being friendly" and it's that audio that's like COME HERE.

Can I request that.

Come Here.

Synopsis: Some guy's getting a little too close for comfort. Unfortunately for Sam, you're oblivious to it.

Warnings: Language, jealous Sam, Not really controlling but bossy Sam, Just funny shit

A/n: i got your other ask clarifying who u wanted :))

Nothing is ever simple. Never.

Actually, there are a few things that are simple. A lot even. Things that are exactly as they're supposed to be, things that never have any extra complications.

With you nothing is ever simple. there has to be at least billion things that actually prove themselves to be what they should be, yet anything regarding you just can't be one of those things.

Like shopping.

It was supposed to be a boring little shopping trip. It was supposed to be quick. Pick up some things you need around the house, stuff you've ran out of and stuff you've suddenly realized you need. Maybe convince Sam to take you to Victoria's Secret and leave a dent in her wallet.

Honestly, Sam would prefer that to what's going on instead. She'd prefer anything over this. Like sleeping in, or watching a movie, or maybe punching that dude who's got his hand on your back.

What's worse is that you don't even seem to realize what he's doing. You've clearly been standing there for a while now, speaking to some stupid guy with a stupid chain and an even stupider fake deep voice.

At first Sam didn't even know where you were, you'd just wandered off. She'd assumed you were going to get something else on the list. When she caught up to you, finding you at the other end of the baking isle, she wished she'd followed you.

"Just need to start looking right, you know?" This guy says, standing much too close for comfort. "Pull a ten, maybe."

You nod, smiling. "I'm sure you will, Ryan," you say politely.

Sam can see the way his eyes rake over you, the look on his face so clearly filled with want it's actually ridiculous you're oblivious to it. Then again, you always have been. That's how you were with her.

"Shit, if I was like you, I wouldn't need to do all this. But you're just mad pretty," Ryan says, laughing for whatever reason. You're smiling kindly but Sam's got what's probably the dirtiest of looks on her face.

"Oh, thank you," you smile. Sam rolls her eyes. This dude's not your friend.

"Y/n," she says, making her presence known. Your eyes widen and an even bigger smile graces your face, head whipping in the direction you heard the voice. Ryan looks too, though his face is more curious than anything.

"Sammy," you say, as Ryan's hand drops from your back. Sam feels herself let out a breath despite the fact that you're still a little too close to this guy.

"Come here," she says, arms crossing.

"Hold on, this is Ry-" you begin, pointing at the guy who's now a good two and a half feet away, though you don't get the chance to finish.

"Come here." Sam points at the ground in front of her.

You tilt your head, glancing between Ryan and Sam, but you don't protest. You make a face, something between confusion and annoyance. Sam doesn't notice, or else she doesn't care.

"Now," she says, something in her voice possessing an odd sort of finality. You let out an exaggerated sigh and glance at Ryan, who seems to be just as confused as you.

"Sorry, Ryan," you say as you speed up. For some reason, this causes Sam to sigh and roll her eyes again.

She's irritable all of a sudden, you think. She shoots the not so poor guy a look, a look that has him stepping back even further.

"Let's go," she says impatiently as her eyes land on you, urging you to hurry up. You give her a look of your own.

"Why'd you do that?" you ask, despite the fact that you're doing exactly as she's told you to, glancing back like that dude's actually stupid enough to still be standing there. Sam grabs your sleeve and pulls you little closer even though it really doesn't benefit her in the slightest (besides making her feel better) and leans onto the cart.

" 'Cause I did. When you're shopping, you're shopping with me," she tells you, tone suggesting that you doing otherwise is an insult or something alike. "Not some weird ass dude."

"Ryan's not weird-"

"He's weird!" Sam cuts in, throwing a hand up. "Weird and wants you. You're with me, you're shopping with me."

You almost laugh. It's funny. What is she even talking about? Ryan wants you? That guy you just met? Sam notices your little smile out of the corner of her eye and scoffs.

"It's funny 'till he wants a smooch," she says, dead serious.

That does it.

You can't hold it any longer. You burst into a fit of giggles, smacking Sam on the arm. "He was being nice, relax," you laugh, as Sam rolls her eyes for the millionth time.

"He doesn't need to, he's being a little too nice."

"It's not that deep, I promise!" you tell her, grin unwavering.

"It's always that deep! Everybody wants you! All the time! I do!" Sam shoots back, instinctively straightening up as you grab the cart, shaking your head and beginning to push it down the isle. She nearly pulls her hair out when you start fully laughing at her again.

"Made me forget what I was over here for," you say to yourself as Sam follows behind you, saying something about the elderly crossing guard across the street checking you out.

"So you need to stay with me all the time!"

I dunno how to end this guys

[makelemonade]

Both the parts for people finding out we're dating the characters are so good! Can I please request you to include Wriothesley in the next part if you're writing it?

how people find out you’re dating them

Wriothesley, Capitano

Wriothesley

ONCE AGAIN THESE GODDAMN MELUSINES

Most specifically SIGEWINNE.

she’s such a cutie patootie. you just wanna eat her up whenever you see her! Sigewinne, the adorableness she is, is not the smartest.

Whenever you come down so often to come visit Wriothesely, she comments on how you are such a good friend to always keep him company! and you just can’t bear to explain to her that is not the case!

This goes on for A MONTH. A GODDAMN MONTH and she has not figured it out.

Even when she bursts into his office to find you maybe massaging his back, arms, hugging him, holding him- she is completely OBLIVIOUS to the point Wriothesly wants to test out kissing you in front of her.

However, her obliviousness comes to a stop one day and for the stupidest yet funniest reason;

He’s not drinking his tea.

She’s shocked. Like jaw dropped, absolutely still shocked. She’s constantly trying to get him to drink or EAT anything other than tea so when she sees him with a MILKSHAKE?! A FUCKING MILKSHAKE.

She’s ready to lose her shit.
and then she sees YOU with the opposite flavour milkshake and she immediately knows and screams it out for the ENTIRE prison to hear.

A prisoner comes in injured; “Have you heard Wriothesly and Y/N are together?!”

On her next vacation, she’s running to Neuvillette, Furina, Clorinde- EVERYONE.

Well, it was a month of peace.

Capitano

It’s funny because he genuinely isn’t even trying to hide it from the Harbingers.

He doesn’t not tell them because he’s worried for your safety- he’s the fourth fucking harbinger he will GLADLY beat anyone’s ass for you even if it means it’s his own coworkers.

The man just doesn’t talk. That’s literally why no one knows. Like yeah, he’ll murmur a few words every now and then but like, he doesn’t see a reason in bringing something up if someone doesn’t mention anything related so he stays quiet.

He does talk a bit more though, and he’s willing to actually sit with the harbingers whenever they sometimes hang out.

It’s weirding them out.

The weirdest thing though,

WEIRDEST.

Is when he speaks to Childe.

Even Childe is absolutely shocked- like what do you mean the guy he’s been like practically simping over fight wise is actually soeaking to him?!?!!!

They have to ask Pierro if he’s sick, and even Pierro doesn’t know and Pierro is the ONLY one capitano talks.

They literally find out from YOU.

You walked into the castle once, being escorted by a guard who is quick to leave once he’s finally let you reach the insides of the castle.

“Sorry to disturb,” You spoke nervously, somehow ending up in some sort of lounge room with the Harbingers. “I’ve brought lunch for my…boyfriend? Uh, Capitano? Do you know where I could find him?”

“Yeah, down the hall, first room on the left.” Arlecchino murmurs, reading through the latest Snezhnaya newspapers.

You smile at her, although she doesn’t see and everyone just returns back to normal.

Until they all realize WHO the hell are you and BOYFRIEND?!?

They all give each other a look before they are RUNNING to you, ready to ask questions and capitano is shocked when suddenly all the Harbingers are in his office and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop them from questioning you on everything.

He likes the way you laugh at them all- it’s cute. He should bring you more often.

follow me on Twitter!; @II_makelemonade

[incorrectfatui]

some Fatui headcanons before we resume the quotes (some funny, some sad, some just random idk) these are all over the place but oh well Pierro: Really liked talking to Signora about magic. They both use very different kinds, but they still have similar understandings, and no one else really wants to hear him ramble

Capitano: Oblivious to romantic relationships. Thinks everyone is just really good friends.

Dottore: Got so seasick on the way to inazuma and back, that he genuinely considered never visiting again. Spent like 5 months trying to research medication against motion sickness and ended up poisoning himself. Intentionally makes mathematical mistakes in his budget reports, just to annoy Pantalone.

Columbina: can't swim.

Arlecchino: Says "I don't have a favourite child", but definitely has a favourite child. Tried making Dad jokes once and failed miserably, mostly because she didn't understand the joke herself. Sometimes forgets that most the Harbingers are immortal, so she'll have situations where she mentions researching some long dead person, only for one of the others to go "oh i knew that dude personally". Somewhat salty that she isn't hundreds of years old.

Crucabena: Her birthday is on christmas. She doesn't know what christmas is, so it doesn't matter, but she just gives off the vibe of being born in winter and I think it'd be funny. Wrote letters trying to get Neuvilette to implement the death penalty monthly, but never received a reply. Has, one more than one occasion, used Hydro not to fight, but to drown people, because she liked watching them struggle.

Clervie: her and Peruere once illegally operated an Aquabus while on a mission. Peruere may have used it to commit vehicular manslaughter. Also she made mother's day presents every year, despite them being thrown away. Tried to teach herself elemental magic, but couldn't figure it out without a teacher. Once overheard Crucabena praying to the Cryo Archon. briefly had hope that she changed for the better, only to hear "Thank you your Majesty for giving me the ability to give people hypothermia".

Lyney: Genuinely thought Arlecchino was a guy for like 3 months after being adopted. Also sometimes forgets that Freminet isn't his biological brother.

Lynette: More cat-like than Lyney. Has caught birds and eaten them raw before, but doesn't do it anymore, even though Arlecchino approves.

Freminet: More powerful than Lyney and Lynette, even if it doesn't seem like it. Doesn't have all that much control over his cryo vision yet, so he mostly uses it as a support for his claymore, instead of the other way around.

Pulcinella: Has a lot of fun calling everyone a child, even if he isn't older than them. Dottore? Unruly teenager. Scaramouche or Sandrone? Practically a toddler. Arlecchino and Childe? Babies. Only ones he doesn't do this to is Columbina and Pierro. Columbina because he's scared, Pierro because of respect.

Scaramouche: One of the only people who actually understands how Ei's Realm of Euthmiya works. Has tried to explain it to several people, including Pierro and Dottore, but get's frustrated every time because they don't understand it exactly. So overcharged with electro energy, that touching him may give you a small shockl (yes, even after Sumeru). Is actually not completely sure how his body actually works, and neither is Nahida. Dottore has a pretty level of knowlegde (although he still gets a lot of surprises), but the only one who actually understands his body completely is Ei.

Sandrone: Tried to become active in Fontainian politics at some point. Promptly fell asleep in the courtroom because she spent several all-nighters trying to complete a project of hers. Complicated feelings about Scaramouche, ranging from "I want to dissect him" to "no one understands this guy more than me, ignore the fact that we talk like once every 5 years"

Signora: Even with the cryo delusion, her body temperature runs really, really hot. Is basically a walking heater- Columbina likes using her as a portable source of warmth. Also, her blood being liquid fire is not an exaggeration- got wounded in the palace one time, only to burn down half a library.

Pantalone: Once suggested suing Raiden Ei for child support. It did not work.

Childe: Completely unaware that Arlecchino isn't the first Knave. Thinks she's immortal too. Also only figured out that Dottore has clones after about a year of being a Harbinger.

[sparklingblu]

Limerence (ft. ILLIT Minju)

I don't even know what to call this. Somewhat of a fluff but not really a fluff either. Something that just pops into my mind.

"So he asked 'Is it better to speak or die?' "

"That's the stupidest story I have ever heard"

Minju leaves no chance for you to savour that feeling that comes after quoting something particularly clever. Or she's just being a jerk as usual.

"You are just anti-romantic"

You protest though you know she will have thought of a retort before you finish.

"There's nothing romantic about this story"

"It's a love story for christ's sake"

"Where's the 'love' ?"

You slump back in your chair, defeated. Either she's too dumb to understand your point or you are just bad at telling stories. The latter's probably more likely.

The story's not an ordinary one in the first place. It involves a knight and a princess but it ends neither with a 'happily ever after' nor a bloodbath where they both rip their hearts out. There isn't even an ending.

'Is it better to speak or die?'

The last sentence on this paper of the dusty hard covered book which has turned yellow from the years it have endured. It's a mircale how it's still intact.

You mummur the question under your breath, trying to make sense of the words. But they are still nothing more than a jumbled mess in your mind.

The funny thing is, this is not your first time reading this story. You are actually too familiar with it. The setting, the characters, the way it almost seems to tell the secret you have carefully hidden; it doesn't make sense that you are still confused what this single question everything has lead up to mean. Still, you are here, no wiser than the first time you have read this tale.

In some time immemorial in an unknown kingdom lived a princess and a knight, each a good friend to another. Perhaps because of this closeness, the knight started to feel something more than companionship to the princess. Feelings that shouldn't exist given their scoial status. The princess knew it too though she ptetends to be oblivious. Nonetheless, the knight found himself unable to express his desires - torn between the fear of losing what he currently has and the turmoil of hiding himself. So one day, when he took his usual walk with the princess through the garden, he mustered up the courage to ask one single question.

"Is it better to speak or die?"

The End.

Anyone can guess at this point that the knight meant if it's better to put his feelings into words and sacrifice their friendship or die knowing that he will never have what he wants. You wish it's that simple.

You and Minju have been stuck in the same page for an hour now, still having no idea how to progress your assignment. The task was a paper on an in depth analysis on a tale of your choice. Now you regret not choosing 'The Tortoise & The Hare".

"Why do you choose this one anyway? There are like a million other better choices"

Minju says, gesturing at the endless shelves of books that surround you on all sides. Not millions but perhaps a thousand other choices you could have made in this rectangular bank of knowledge; the local library.

Somewhere distinct, you hear a bell chimes, signaling the arrival to the later hour of the night. You glance at your watch. It's already 9 pm. A cough reasonates from the counter near the entrance, emitted by none other than the librarian. The ghastly old woman seems to be signalling that we don't have much time left.

I don't have much time left.

Minju's translucent pupils are fixed on you, still waiting for your answer. You break out of the haze.

"Because it's.."

'Relatable'. The word is 'Relatable'. But she doesn't need to know that. Never.

"Interesting I guess"

You finish, not quite daring to meet her eyes. She might see the guilt of your dishonest words in them.

"Seriously? This is interesting? Next time you think something is interesting, feel free to ask my opinion"

"Not everyone have great taste"

You mean it to be a playful jab but her face distorts to something along the line of fury and hurt. And her lips part.

No. Please don't be mad.

Please.

"Jerk"

Her words put out the flames of fear threatening to rise in your chest. There. All good. She's not mad.

You let out a sigh of relief but quickly mask it as a half formed scoff. She can't know. So you waver her attention.

"Tell me then. What's your opinion on this story apart from it being hopelessly stupid"

Her lips stretch to a soft smile. You have put her back into her comfort zone.

"It's not about love like you think. It's about cowardice"

"Enlighten me"

She crosses her arms, the pose she always takes before her rosy lips spill out a waterfall of the most beautiful syllables. It also makes her look superior. The table, which is the only thing between you two seems like a brick wall now.

"The knight doesn't say 'I love you' or anything of that sort, does he? He's scared out of his wits so he decided to go for a safer alternative. That question. It literally says 'I'm a coward who can't even properly confess' "

Is she mocking you?

Probably not. She doesn't know. She will never know.

Still....

'Is it better to spek or die?'

A coward's attempt at love; complicated and imperfect. At least he has the courage to mutter those cowardly words.

"You are not wrong but can't it be that he's just scared of losing her?"

Yes. You are referring to yourself.

But she won't know.

"He already loses her after saying these words"

"You don't know that. You don't know what the pericess's answer was. She could have accepted him"

"You don't know that either"

Now she's fighting you with your own words.

"What would you have answered if you were the princess then?"

Is that an indirect confession? An attempt to ask her opinion without facing the shame that comes after rejection? You hope not.

"I don't know...I would probably ask him to speak in English"

"Not funny at all"

Your answer makes her raise her brows in disbelief as if saying - "I know I will never not be funny to you. You are too obsessed with me not to."

But that's impossible. She doesn't know.

Has she spoken these words aloud, you would happily agree with her. But that's just momentary courage. Your tongue would be tied to knots in a hearbeat if that ever happens.

That begs the question again.

'Is it better to speak or die?'

"Whatever" she says in exasperation. "I'm not lovey dovey enough for this"

"Seriously. Just tell me what you would have said"

There. You are pushing again, desperate for that answer even if it's not directed at you. You would cling to a tiny hope if it's ever a positive one.

"I don't know. Probably tell him to speak because I don't want anyone going suicidal mode because of me"

"He will still go suicidal if you reject him after he confess"

"Why are you asking me those? Were you in such a situation before?"

You surpress a chuckle that nearly slips your tongue.

What a fool you are Minju. You can't even spot the truth that's hidden in plain sight. The truth that has gone rusty and rotten because it has been locked up for so long. Still, it's not her fault.

You have hidden it so well.

She doesn't need to know.

"Yes"

You can't believe you say the word. It's as if someone has possessed you and put those words on your tongue.

"Poor you"

And just like that, it ends.

You have expected her to push you, given her curious nature. You want her to lend you the courage to say those words you have mummur countless times in your dreams. But she just leaves you hanging there like that. Cruel.

Can't blame her though.

She doesn't know.

Another cough pierces through the invisible viel that has seperated you two from the world outside.

9:25 pm.

5 minutes away until this tedious session of back and forth ends.

Why is it that you don't want it to end?

The papers in front of you are bare as they were an hour ago. The book still turned at the same page. The question that haunts you still lies there, imprinted in black.

'Is it better to speak or die?'

Neither. Because that's a stupid question just like Minju said. It's constructed to mess with your mind. You gotta stop dwelling on it.

"Anyway-"

Chimes

That sound. It can only mean one thing.

Minju pulls her phone out of her pocket, the glow of it illuminating her angelic feature as she turns it on. Not a moment sooner, her lips hold the prettiest of smiles.

And in all the wrong ways.

"Gotta go"

Her dismissal cuts through the tense air as she hurriedly put the papers back into her bag. Is she that desperate to get away from you?

"My boyfriend's waiting for me. We have a date tonight"

You are not angry. It would be wrong. Though it's only natural to envy the one who's living your fantasy. But the faults are not in our stars.

"Alright. Goodnight"

Minju's footsteps echo on the mahogany floor as she finally escapes the torturous session you have put her though, flying away to an embrace better than yours in every way.

But it's ok.

Because she doesn't know.

She gives a quick wave to the old librarian who does nothing to reciprocate the action. That hag doesn't know how lucky she is.

"Minju"

You call before the rest of her form disppears through these creaking doors. She turns on her heels, a stray strand of hair clinging like an unifinished piece of art to her forehead. The shadows cast by the moonlight does nothing to hide her.

"Yes?"

You breath.

And utter.

"Is it better to speak or die?"

___________________________________________

Took the famous question from the movie "Call me by your name". Though I alter the story. Thanks for reading this madness.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

König is, obviously, a big little freak. Do you think he'd feel flattered/lovestruck if a cute girl stalked and was obsessed with him or would he be weirded out? I think the first: for once he gets pussy and love without having to do anything. Also it'd be kinda funny if he didn't even notice his little admirer at first cause she doesn't register as a threat and he's too busy being broody and depressed cause he's so alone (while reader is in her apartment fantasizing about their future kids and drawing little hearts on a pic of him)

Ohhh yes. König being oblivious af, thinks this is simply a joke.

It started out in school: cute little postcards that had bunnies or kittens or flowers or hearts on them, delivered to him by his mom who was smirking about how her boy had a secret admirer. There was nothing fancy scribbled on the other side, just soft, silly messages like: "I like you!" or "Your cute" or "Luv u ♡", and König saved them all.

…Until he showed the postcards to the wrong “friends”, who only made fun of them. One of the boys told him they sent those cards to him as a joke because no girl could ever want him, and König believed them. Allowed himself one, maybe two tears in solitude before he threw those cards away.

What was odd, though, was that the cards still kept coming. He always threw them in the trash, and at some point while growing up, they stopped arriving. No cats or hearts or cute mice illustrations for him anymore, just loads of video games and internet and a growing interest in war history and gym.

He didn’t think much of it after the age of 17, just went to the army to make a man out of himself. Got laid for the first time, got bullied some more, grew some muscle and grew some balls. Got kicked out of sniper training, his one and only dream, and went back home to brood for a few weeks.

That’s when he received the letter.

A 5 page love letter, written in beautiful, whimsical handwriting, smelling of something so angelic that it drove even the eternal stench of gunpowder and rust and military storage away.

König gets plunged into a whole world of soft feminine attention without even asking to, the letter now placed on his old desk that’s too small for him to sit at anymore. The fragrant sheets of paper are filled with confessions of adoration and love and… it would be a little bit creepy, were he a man who fancied so-called normal women.

He goes to the attic, searching his old cardboard boxes for the postcards to compare the handwriting, but can’t find none, remembering that yeah… he threw all of them away, didn’t he? The handwriting wouldn’t match anyway, that much he can remember, but then again it was a kid who wrote to him back then. Now, his admirer is a grown woman who apparently got back on her obsession train once he visited his childhood home after years of living abroad.

The hair on his shins, arms and at the back of his neck shoots up as he realizes some woman has a crush on him, some cute girl has been watching him since day one. Those postcards weren’t a joke, so she must have gone to the same school as him… She might be the daughter of some of their neighbors, living right next to him even now.

König goes door to door in search of her, but only wrinkly elders arrive to tell him that no, they never had a daughter or granddaughter or if they had, they have long since moved out to some big city.

He goes through the letter once again but finds no clues to who she is or where she lives. It’s just pages and pages of flattery about how he’s still the man of her dreams and so much more. How he’s even cuter now that he looks like someone pissed in his cereal. She wonders if he’s built the same everywhere, and if he is, then she should say her evening prayers… Too many impure thoughts going through her head already, why does he have to be so handsome?

König is in hell, as always, desperately trying to look for his admirer when he goes out to take the trash. Visions of some girl touching herself at the thoughts of him pester him from sunrise to sunset, and he has to take a cold shower every morning simply because one wank doesn’t seem to be enough to tame the big fellow downstairs.

He hugs his pillow and dreams of his girl, someone sweet to wrap his arms around and to protect. He fantasizes of someone cute waiting for him, someone he could surprise every time he gets home, someone adorable to eat out until they sob and squirm. Until he gets the stench of death out of his mouth…

A message arrives on his phone from an unknown number, and at first he thinks it’s spam.

But when he opens the message, he’s met with two perfect bare breasts. So fucking cute, especially when they’re accompanied by a set of fingertips grazing her soft skin; König even notices she has red nail polish on. So adorably, incredibly cute…

There comes a text that says: “I thought of sending you another postcard, big boy… But perhaps you don't care for kittens anymore. Hopefully this will do? ❤️”

There’s no face reveal, just tits and a cute female hand laid out there before him. Just a text that confirms that she’s the one. Typing a quick reply, he sends it to the unknown number: “This will more than just do 😳❤️❤️❤️”

Without thinking, like, at all, he pulls out his already hard cock and takes a hurried picture of it with a trembling hand. He usually knows better than to send a dick pic to a girl, especially after exchanging less than two sentences with them. But hey, she started this. The least he can do is give her something to pray about (and for)..

So he sends that horrid picture of his ugly cock to his cute mystery girl before she can even type a reply to the first message, and asks: “Are we praying tonight, my lady?”

[charliemwrites]

Soooo a while ago I introduced a “rabid reader.” A reader character with a (non-sexual) body count and a nasty temper.

Anyway, I started thinking about her - and the discord does what it does - and realized that Pathetic Stalker Konig would be a great pairing for her.

So, CW for light stalking, violence, and slightly mean reader

You have a stalker.

He’s… not a very good one.

For one, you know he’s there. Have known since pretty much the beginning. He’s a big fucking Austrian that covers himself head to toe. Not even in subtle colors, but in primarily black. Maybe at night he’d stand a chance, but he follows you in broad daylight too. So, there’s that.

Then there’s the fact that you’re not really bothered by him. What’s there to be bothered by? He keeps his distance, doesn’t interfere with your life. Even when he finally does work up the courage to enter your home, he puts things back where he found them. So, again, not a big deal.

You keep waiting for the escalation. For gifts or letters or some obvious sign of his presence that even the most oblivious person couldn’t ignore. But none comes. Partially, you figure, because you’ve shown no interest in anyone. You have friends, yes, but those are so obviously platonic that even your stalker doesn’t seem jealous. And the few times someone else has made a pass at you, a quick and merciless shutdown follows. Your lack of romantic intentions for anyone seems to be coming him semi-level.

You wonder if this is how religious people feel, that vague sense of being watched. Though you don’t think your stalker is judging you. Be a hell of a thing if he did.

Then one day, things change.

You have this new coworker, Brandon.

Your other coworkers already seem to like him. They say he’s funny and charming and handsome, that he’s such a great fit for the team. You have no particular opinion because most people just aren’t interesting to you, and Brandon is Most People incarnate.

But Brandon seems to have an interest in you. Which, really, is such a poor choice.

He keeps ending up in the break room at the same time as you. Or passing by your desk for a quick question, only to try to lengthen the conversation with the casual chat. Makes a point of saying hello to you in the mornings and walking down with you in the afternoon.

You’re not annoyed yet, not really. It’s a change in your routine, but you’ve been told those are good, so fine. He’s about as bearable as anyone else (besides the rare few you call friend) so you don’t think anything of it. Even when your coworker giggles that he was asking after your romantic life, you tolerate him.

A few months later is the annual office party, a celebration of… something. It seems different every time. Record profits, company anniversary, CEO’s birthday… it doesn’t matter, really. Free food, socialization. It’s something to do.

You go, of course. As ambivalent as you are towards the majority of your coworkers, they do seem to quite like you, and insist that you come.

So you go. You plaster on that mild, practiced smile while they chat and joke, contributing readily when prompted. At the end of the meal, you’re wheedled into going out for more casual celebration. Again, you agree.

Brandon comes along.

And somewhere, throughout the night, Brandon thinks it’s okay to start touching you. An accidental brush here and there is fine, unavoidable really. You’re not opposed to touch as a rule.

But then the occasional bumps and grazes become more frequent, consistent. Purposeful. A hand on your arm, then your shoulder, then your back. When you step away, he somehow ends up right back by your side. So you resort to telling him not to touch you so casually. He scoffs, already past a healthy buzz, and dismisses you as being “uptight” because you’re still treating it as a “work thing.” That you just need some more drinks in you and everything will be fine.

You can feel it bubbling up in you, that inky rage. Maybe something flickers across your face because your coworkers are quick to divert his attention. Smart.

But twenty minutes later you’ve had your fill of socializing. The bar is too loud, people are getting too drunk, and you don’t like the looks you’re getting from more than just Brandon.

You say your goodbyes while he’s in the restroom and leave.

You’ve only just made it to your car when you hear quick footsteps, turn just in time for Brandon to catch up. It’s all just noise to you now, his tense laughter that you left at the worst time, that you’re mean for not waiting. That he wants to walk you to your car like always.

He tries to curl an arm around your waist. It takes restraint you don’t usually employ not to break it. To just step away and repeat (fuck you hate repeating yourself) that you don’t want to be touched.

And then he makes the fatal mistake of just not fucking listening. Of insisting. Of doing what he wants anyway.

So you break his hand. And while he’s still screaming in pain, you notice the shadowy flicker of your stalker ducking out of view.

It’ll stay your secret, you figure, and go home. Expect that to be the end of it.

Until you hear glass break when you’re just about to go to bed. You step out of your room, shoes on and knife in hand, to a fuck-off sized Austrian strangling Brandon. Oh, and stabbing him with a large piece of the lamp someone seems to have broken.

There’s water all over the floor because it started raining an hour ago. It’s mixing with the blood, diluting it pink on your floor. You retrieve a towel from the kitchen to mop it up before it reaches the rug.

All at once, things go quiet. Your stalker is kneeling over a still, dead-eyed Brandon, breathing hard. But his eyes keep flicking to you and then away, shoulders slumped and head ducked.

“You’ve made a mess. Clean up.”

Your stalker jumps into action. Seems to already know where all the housekeeping supplies are. In the meantime, you go digging through your closet for clothes. Can’t find any, so you settle for getting the washer and dryer ready. Order yourself a new lamp online.

By the time you’re done, the body is gone, the floors are clean and dry, and your stalker is fidgeting in the living room.

“Strip.”

He startles. Stares. You arch your eyebrows. Wait him out. But then he does as he’s told. Peeling off cold, wet layers with mechanical precision, until he’s got a damp pile at his bare feet. You give his mask an unimpressed look. That comes off too with an audible gulp.

You don’t really get attractiveness, as a physical quality. You understand proportions and features, and recognize that this man has some pleasing, if atypical, ones. Even with the scar.

“Good.” He shivers. “Now shower.”

He nods, ducks past you to the bathroom - again without having to be told where to find it. You gather up the clothes and toss them in the machine with a little extra detergent.

Walk into the bathroom and ignore the way he tries to cover himself, flushing tomato red from head to toe.

“Your name.”

“Konig.”

You narrow your eyes, but don’t press.

“Are you military?”

He’s built like it. Thick with useful strength, not aesthetic muscle. And he’s scarred all over. Some new, some old, all earned through violence and suffering.

“Military contractor,” he says. Then, quieter, “please don’t stare.”

Your eyes snap up to his. He can’t even hold it for longer than a second before dropping his gaze. You cross your arms.

“You’ve been watching me for 7 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days. Put your fucking hands down.”

He twitches, but drops his hands to his sides. His cock - and it is, you acknowledge, very impressive - is filling out slowly but steadily. You consider it for a moment while he fidgets beneath the steaming spray.

“If you fuck me, will you be satisfied?” you ask.

Like touching, you’re not against fucking by default. It’s just one of those things you don’t think about often because you’re not especially interesting in most cases.

This - Konig - is not most cases.

But konig’s eyes dart up guiltily before he shakes his head. Surprised, you tilt your head.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

He nods so hard the back of his skull bumps into the shower head.

You hum. Stand there and watch him while he awkwardly shuffles until the washer buzzes.

“Finish showering, get your clothes from the dryer, then sleep on the couch,” you say. He swallows again and nods. “You can get blankets if you’re cold. Be here in the morning.”

With that, you turn to switch his clothes over. Then head off to bed, wondering if you’ll see him come sunrise.

Next

Masterlist

[adventures-in-mangaland]

Yet Another Dead Boy Detective Fic Rec List

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

I've been having so much fun with these, so I've decided to make another! See above for links to my other fic rec lists. ♥️

Like We're Gonna Die Young (Again) by RoseGanymede95

The latest installment in the superb Codependency World Cup series has the boys attend a nefarious house party and grapple with old frenemies, 90s fashion and temporary amnesia. Also fleshes out their achingly sad backstories, but compensates with the triumphant return of Pierre the rabbit.

When I Picture You by Gruoch

Charles gets braceleted by the Cat King instead of Edwin and receives his heart's desire... being alive again. This author has a special gift for taking fun sounding premises and turning the angst up to 11. So excellent.

young blood (never get chained) by ghostinthelibrary

University AU in which half-demon Charles intervenes in Edwin's ritual sacrifice and inadvertently binds their souls together... I'm genuinely obsessed with this AU, it has so much potential for tons of delicious tropes. Human!Edwin getting a crash course in supernatural shenanigans! Soulmate vibes!Found Family! Demon lore! What's not to love??

Ghosts and Monsters by justafandomfollower

Charles is also sacrificed and the boys meet in Hell! Fantastic premise and executed really well. I loved Masterful Edwin taking charge and protecting Charles while inwardly despairing. Highly recommended.

back to back they faced each other by ShanaStoryteller

The Night Nurse has a theory about how Charles was able to rescue Edwin from Hell so quickly... I'm genuinely shocked I haven't recced this one already. Sorry guys, I forgor. Anyway, this has interesting "Guardian" (angel?) lore, great meta and we even get some temporary amnesia as a treat.

boyfriend jacket by skadii

5+1 times Edwin borrowed Charles' jacket. The characterisation is on point, and it has some great OCs (Kyle the snarky seeing-eye cat!) and really sweet payneland moments. Plus Charles' jacket doing its most to annoy the Cat King.

Looking Like the Sunrise by letters_of_stars

Edwin thinks he's cursed so he and Crystal must team up to solve the case of his Mysterious and Suddenly Appearing Rizz. Funny and sweet friendship fic with some quality Edwin-Crystal bonding and discussions of trauma.

The Case of the Anonymous Confession by Mayarenerose

College AU featuring Charles posting an 'anonymous' online confession about his complicated feelings for his bestie. The closet is glass, but Edwin is oblivious and Crystal is in pain. Cute and funny epistolary social media fic done really well.

the middle of something wonderful by KiaraSayre

Does what it says on the tin and gives us a trope salad of cosy vignettes, including a time loop, temporary amnesia, sudden corporality and Crystal and Edwin trying to get a good grade in Party. Wholesome.

My heart is like a haunted house (series) by halffulljampot

Charles (unknowingly) befriends the ghost of Edwin's mother and constantly gushes to her about his amazing best friend/boyfriend. Beatrice is a great OC and it's just nice (though extra tragic) to read a fic in which Edwin had loving parents. Read it for Family Feels and wholesome intergenerational friendship.

the first rule of fight club by e_va

The boys are captured by an evil underground fighting ring. The fic is from Charles' PoV, so the prospect of having to fight Edwin was especially stomach-churning. Still, we get Edwin being a badass and a brilliant surprise cameo I don't want to spoil.

The Case of The... by sophisticatedyet

Edwin borrows Niko's negligee and Charles' brain breaks. There's also a case and giant squids, but Charles' Distracted By The Sexy crisis is the main (hilarious) event.

in those heavy days when love became an act of defiance by aletterinthenameofsanity, JUBE514

Daemon AU and first meeting fic! Loved the worldbuilding, insightful character work and lovely use of Greek mythology. Honestly, this fandom needs more daemon AUs.

spinning around and around in an ocean of grief (your ladder came down to the sea) by Ingi

Prequel to DontOffendTheBees' excellent College AU, expanding on the boys being alive and in school together. Also has its own prequel about their first meeting from Edwin's point of view. This one, though, is a Charles' Bisexual Journey/Feelings Realization fic. So lovely.

head in the clouds but my gravity's centered by shadowquill17

Face Touching: The Fic. I just love non-sexual intimacy in fics and this one is so tender. I also love Accidental Kissing and Feelings Realization so my cup runneth over.

i don't want to rest in peace by handwrittenhello

Different First Meeting fic featuring Poltergeist Charles! Loved the concept, even though it made me sad.

the great snogging debacle of '95 by thatgayprince

Edwin disguises himself as a girl and Charles starts and then defers a sexuality crisis for 30 years. Funny, steamy and emotional.

a beautiful day to say goodbye by ofstitches

The agency take on the case of a depressed house. This is another bittersweet Edwin backstory fic with discussions of grief.

Smitten in the Stacks by cordelianoir

Adorable prequel to lolotr's equally adorable library AU. Meet cute featuring (platonically married) Dad!Charles crushing on the hot librarian who leads Children's Storytime.

Jenny Green: Butcher, Hot Mess, Reluctant Queer Elder by Money_Maker

Jenny-centric fic! The focus is on Jenny and her financial, mental and emotional struggles post-canon, but mentoring Edwin through his queer self-discovery becomes a big part of that. This turns into a really sweet friendship, plus Found Family Feels and some fun outsider PoV of the boys' dynamic.

I've always got more recs so watch this space! ❤️

[amesul]

You should do diana and ready is her younger girlfriend and ready is being a brat so diana punishes her by spanking her and ready is dripping onto Diana's thigh

sorry for the delay baby, this was rushed a lot so i hope you enjoy this bc i didnt proofread. ˚⊹♡

“oh fuck you!” you shout, irritation consuming you as diana ate the last piece of cake, knowing how much you wanted it, even though it wasn’t for you.

she was immediately startled by ur sudden outburst.

sure, you had ur moments, but to get angry over a slice of cake? she knew you were stubborn, and she also knew that you weren’t on ur cycle.

“nena, calm down.” she uttered, but you didn’t listen, instead — you even rolled your eyes as a mumbled “bitch” flew out of ur mouth.

she quickly heard you and nodded her head in a maniac way, processing every single crumb of movement from you and the grating scoff you had no shame in avowing.

you urself didn’t know why you were acting so childish for a piece of cake, and being so oblivious of how diana was gonna react.

oh right. because in a blur, ur whole body was sitting on her lap, not caring an ounce about the half bitten cake, and shit — you didn’t know how u got naked under her tight grip on ur neck.

you nearly gasped, wondering how and what just occurred so swiftly to get you needy and apologetic.

“say that again, please.“ diana mumbled, a cold trail of dark matter right behind her tone as she flicked her tongue against her lips.

she wanted you to say it. just so she could make sure you never call her that again after.

you were still trying to process, but the little agony in you won.

“bitch!”

now you didn’t mean to nearly shout, but all the pent up tension was getting to you and it surely wasn’t the time to do that, only because diana had crawled her hands to ur ass.

she chuckled, lowering her head from how funny it was for her.

you were being a brat.

not only to her but certainly triggering her calm state.

u started to get fret, thinking about how dumb and foolish you have been acting, and now you knew you were gonna get ur consequences because when diana gets tense with you, you end up saying sorry.

hands running over both of ur cheeks, her light touch raising hairs and goosebumps, only exciting you for what could be possibly be coming.

"you can count, right?" she asked, voice laced with sarcasm.

"yeah," u replied, your heart beginning to race a little faster when you felt the familiar fuzzy black handcuffs click around ur wrists. you started to regret being the bitch in this situation.

"well don't just mourn now, count to fucking ten if you're so smart."

with a nod you began, easily going through the numbers you’d learned in primary school just to have diana chuckle at you. "that was great, surprisingly. good job. now, lets see if you can count while your ass is burning, shall we? what number should we go to sweets?"

"fifteen," you answered quickly, barely giving it any thought and just choosing a number u hoped she'd be satisfied with.

"good choice," she agreed, bringing a quick hand down on ur bare bottom, the loud slap filling the room, and most likely slipping under the crack of the doorway and spilling out into the neighborhood.

"one!" you yelped, surprised at the stinging rising on ur right cheek. the second came down on ur left, a bit harder than the first. "two." another on the right. "th-three." the left. "ah! f-four." right. "five!" right again. "s-i-ix."

"your voice is cracking," she pointed out, hands cupping ur red, burning bum and thumbs digging into the rounds of your flesh. "can't handle it?"

"i- i apologize," you said through gritted teeth, growling out a "se-ven," when she brought her hand down again, this one being the worst of all.

tears formed in ur eyes but u forced them away, breathing heavily into the blankets around yourself.

she ignored ur apology, watching your teared face focused on trying to let the pain be itself.

ur counts were getting louder and louder, her slaps rougher and rougher, and by the time you were at twelve u were almost screaming them out, hissing and gasping and feeling incredibly embarrassed at not only how much you were enjoying this and how horny you had become, but how loud you actually got.

anybody could hear the couple, and diana made it known that that's what she wanted.

"tch," she began, cradling ur ass in her palms and occasionally brushing her fingertips over your lower back. "you know very well i don’t tolerate ur bratty behavior, little girl. s’, i suggest you scream these lasts few, yeah?”

"but dia-“

"do you wanna go to twenty?" she warned. "twenty-five?"

“n-no."

"then scream," she growled, drawing her arm back and slapping you with a quick swing of her hand. u cried out the number thirteen, breathing heavily with half your face buried in her neck, hot breath warming her nape around. the next two were the same, harsh slaps to ur bum, counted out by the distressed sound of ur voice, the fifteenth one hurting the most but at the same time feeling so fucking good in the worst way possible.

once diana was done she left her lips trailing up from ur stomach before brushing over ur neck and connecting with your mouth in a quick, sloppy kiss.

"you didn’t get wet did ya?" she mumbled more to herself than to you, reaching under u and slipping her index finger inside ur throbbing pussy, easily slipping in at how wet you were.

"mh’ y-yea," you confirmed, whimpering as two fingers pinched ur spongy clit, feeling it wobble at the contact.

"want me to do somethin’ about it?"

"please."

"and what is that?" her fingers playing around ur soft, dripping, and who could forget — soaked entrance.

"i want your strap."

"how so, love?"

"god, fuck me like this. fuck me from behind i don't care. i need to feel you in me, please dee."

diana paused for a moment before letting a laugh slip her lips. "begging so soon?" she smirked, shaking her head as she licked her lips subtly, “no.” she deadpanned, “this cute pussy doesn’t deserve my attention, not after your ugly behavior.”

“but-“

“but nothing, i’ll leave you the rest of the slice, but for now you don’t get anything.”

an. yall know i love cliffhangers

[ourlittleuluru]

In summary, this memory was pretty good! It was so... SO MUCH. It immediately fried my brain half way through /@A@;;;;; It was insane. This memory (and the Unreturned Traveller) both left little to no room for any sort of imagination (,,>﹏<,,)

I may have some reservations about certain things with like pacing and such, but I get what they're going for (though at the same time I can't help but feel like they're also doing this spicy banner and heavy leaning on Xavier's jealous tendency in response to much of the vocal fandom really wanting it)

I won't say I love this card as much as the others but I see the appeal and still appreciate it~ I do still love the little moments in the cards and I'll put my trust with the writers still! (writers who are also fanfic authors, seriously... the wording they used during the kindled part just screams fanfic to me! 😂)

(ヘ･_･)ヘ┳━┳ into the Read-more it goes as usual! Fair warning. Long post is LONG (as per usual but at least it's not like branch story long lmao)

All in all this memory reaaaaally highlights a lot of Xavier's flaws, in a good way!

On one hand (i'm pretty sure this happened after 21 Days) now that Xavier has worked on expressing himself more with MC, he's letting the side that he's kept under wraps, out. This resulted with the Xavier we see in this memory. The insecurity, afraid that he'll lose MC-not because she'll die-but just losing out on any sort of time with her (maybe because he's also running on limited time???? angst potential????!), and his little more childish tendency to feel jealous.

He's just so baby 😭🥺 but also Xavier! You'll be okay! MC isn't going anywhere!!

For the first half of the date, I felt like there was some... unanswered questions? Maybe it's for us to figure it out. But I also felt that it was feeling a liiiiittle bit rushed?

Pretty much it seems the starting trigger for Xavier's jealousy began right in the first 3 minutes. Honestly felt that it could've been expanded on a little more, showcasing how it feels like MC would be snatched away from him 🤔 But since I'm sure there's a count to how long the dates should be, I guess they opted for this instead ｢( • ﾍ •) Which also still makes sense enough. But also just reminds me of the Tender Moment - Winter's Sun, where MC needs to go to a networking event and he's such a huge baby about it 😂

I think it's more than a little, MC X'DDD

This part though 🥺 The fact MC has given him access to their own place. And yet Xavier is still so proper about it. Such a gentleman uwu

MC had full faith and trust in Xavier. And Xavier, aware of it, but still would seek consent first. To which, after he has MC's consent, Xavier instead will make sure that MC knows it's him first. The care and thought in this 😭😭😭💖

HE'S LITERALLY PLAYING OUT THAT MEME I CAN'T EVEN 🤣

"You're the most jealous man I know" " You know other men?"

Ngl seeing this written where there's storm or dark clouds above Xavier's head is just funny because that's literally the vision 🤣 he's such an open book when it comes to MC

Him just wanting to hold onto MC at every opportunity even when people are around (/ω＼)

First time meeting Charlie and Xavier was still polite enough... the 2nd time tho... 😂

Poor Charlie! Of all people he first meet, it had to be Xavier and inciting his jealous streak X'D and he's oblivious to it... goodness

The way MC be pushing his buttons to figure out her suspicions on his mood tho 😭 and then the way Xavier literally be pouting in his voice when he says if there's other neighbours in the future that'll do things with her is just... BABY 🥺

Xavier essentially just be slowly putting his walls down, being more indulgent in showing his feelings. And the way he asks MC to see if they are okay with it 🥺

He's just seeking out for MC's reassurance at this point

How many times has some sort of sweet fruit been mentioned whenever it's them getting intimate >w< But this guy just casually leaving MC hanging on the edge.... wow 👀 he definitely knows what he's doing

Same MC... Same... u-u

Honestly, yes 🤣 Like sir, you have centuries and loved reading and also has shown to know so much. A bit difficult to assume you HADN'T ALREADY heard of it before

But the lines right after that just had me like 🥺 Imagine the times he just sat there alone, gazing. Thinking about the things that had passed. About how uneventful or how his life lacked some sort of anchor. His only reason for continuing his days is finding a way to deal with Philos's core and bringing the Backtrackers home. Or maybe to go to Uluru... stuff like that

Ngl... this line from MC had me be like ??????? cuz it made no sense to me;;; Not sure if it's just me not getting it lol.

But I went to look up the CN version and it's (very, very roughly) more along the lines of "If there's no fire, nothing would explode even with a fuse".

Interestingly enough, Xavier seems to avoid answering it? It also happened later, when MC tried to understand Xavier's change. I wonder why he avoided it. out of ego? inability to admit it because it'll be embarrassing? he doesn't know how to put it in words?

Anyways

The fact they be having such a sweet intimate moment and Mr neighbour Charlie came busting in. The face Xavier has. He couldn't even contain his emotions 🤣 thankfully he didn't need to run for his life.

Xavier really be staring him down at the side there 🤣🤣🤣 And Xavier just... 😭 I can't even with this baby. Charlie please read the room there if you know what's good for you...!

The way he just casually lies about this like....! Xavier please 🤣 One can tell he's trying to find a way to subtly tell Charlie to leave them alone I guess but you can tell he's also just letting his temper get the better of him and it came out this way

Okay this part of the whole date was like one of the biggest point to me :C

The way he has worded "do you want me to go back to how I was before?" was very much in a way referencing to one of their things about "every version of them". And the way that line was worded also reeked of Xavier's uncertainty. He was worried there. Was it too much? Is it going to end up driving MC away from him? MC of course did their best to try and ease his worry. It wasn't so much MC wanting Xavier to be how he was before but they just want to understand him more.

And the way Xavier just turns around and proceeds to take it out on the tree instead 😭😭😭😭 Xavier the tree is innocent...! That aside, he's definitely struggling to figure his own feelings out but that childish temper just pretty much got into his head so much that he couldn't keep his usual more level-headedness.

Also MC, did you really HAVE to kick him on his ass just to get his attention? 🤣 Man's angy enough and that definitely cranked his angy up to a 110

The way Xavier nuzzles saying he doesn't know (what else to suggest to help him calm down) was 🥺 he was needy and desperate at that point and he really didn't know how to deal with his emotion like... UGH muh heart

And MC THE INSTIGATOR...! The real freak fr 🤣😭 setting him off to go down the spicy route 😏 of course he's gonna respond in kind

MC gripping and stroking his chin like this 😩

and now that he knows he's allow to... man... MC just unleashed his desire

Him just smirking the rest of the way through.... asdfghjkl

LIKE HELP PLEASE (⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄)

The insane animation and voice acting for these round of cards was.... inasne... even the EN side has upped their game!

The kindled wasn't too long but boy did it show SO MUCH. AND THE SPICINESS WASN'T JUST IN THE KINDLED LIKE ASDFGHJKL

IT WENT BEYOND

And so much longer than I ever thought. Like after a short fade to black was the usual, so I was expecting that but OH NO NOT THIS TIME LIKE... WRITERS PLEASE ( //>///<//) MY SANITY WAS NOT ABLE TO TANK THAT

the devs making full use of their blended animation state machine with the spicy after-kindled scenario was insane. It's like on a whole new level of expressing their emotion. And the sweat...?! THE SWEAT! the heavy breathing too like... (๑/////๑ " )

You can't tell me this isn't totally a line used so much in fanfics LMAO

🥺 This. When he said "Don't go..." also screamed to me that he was afraid. He still was. The fleeting moments his has with MC, he was scared it'll just disappear

🥺🥺😭😭😭

ASDFGHJKL when this part came up I had to freak the heck out 🤣 jumpscared fr

JUST HOW MUCH WERE THEY GOING AT IT FOR?! 😭 like rabbits??

And him admitting that he's afraid, although indirectly (also sir, you're not answering the question again T^T)

And the way MC says "I know" here. It says so much about how they understand each other more than themselves at this point like 😭

MC reassuring Xavier after this as well, to make sure he understands and knows that he's not alone, and he won't be 🥺

I... what do I even say about this இ௰இ I'm sure there's something to say but brain not braining

And the return of their little domestic moments uwu💖

This had me cackling 🤣 One can never be too careful when Xavier's in the kitchen

And more little things to signify them as a pair. Filling their homes with pieces of each other

And Xavier putting the words he couldn't say into a card like... 😭💖

Him being surprised at himself for how much feelings he has held and how much more there still is. And despite all that he makes sure to ask MC if they'd be okay with it. Xavier always checking in on MC is just precious. 🥺 ensuring they're both on the same page. Be it about work, about the progress of their relationship. It's always about that. Being together and in the same step.

I previously had some reservations about how this memory was resolved but looking back at it again, Xavier's trying to show it in his own way and MC understood and also responded in a way that it's on the same page as him. Alongside with a small little banter to end it uwu

I can't wait to see how their relationship develops further. If and when Xavier grows to be more secure and knowing that MC won't leave him. I can imagine him being a lot more of a menace than he already is. Even if he gets a little jealous, he won't be insecure about it anymore and just kinda does his lil pouty baby act on purpose. That kind of thing! This might just be my own preference speaking but... yea •ᴗ•

[walkingstackofbooks]

Julian decides he wants to learn more about gardening because Garak likes it, but obviously he can't just ask Garak, so he asks Keiko instead.

And Keiko's a great teacher! And she's really funny and pretty and they have a lot in common - they're both giant nerds and she finds his type of biology just as interesting as he's ended up finding botany - and they both wonder why they haven't previously hung out more.

Keiko is also way more emotionally in-tune with herself than either Garak or Miles, so when she realises that actually, she likes Julian, she informs Miles of her intentions (who assures her that of course it's fine, they've had this arrangement for years, of course he's not going to be weird about it being Julian...) and asks Julian out.

And Julian's surprised, of course, but at this point he's certain Garak's not into him - his new interest in flowers doesn't seem to have affected anything - and he really does like Keiko.... So after taking a little time to think, and to check in with Miles (who assures him that of course it's fine, no he's not going to be weird about it, just make sure you treat her right and make her happy, okay?) they start dating. And it's cute! It's nice! It's pretty much the same as their old arboretum dates apart from now with added hand-holding and kissing!

Julian's oblivious to Garak's jealousy over the whole matter... Meanwhile, Keiko is painfully aware how jealous Miles is - not because he's not happy for either of them, but because he hasn't figured out that he'd like to be dating Julian, too - but she also knows she can't do anything more than nudge him until he realises it for himself.

(It takes the changeling/prison camp situation for Miles to get themselves in gear. Miles still says his stupid "you were easier to get along with" comment but seeing Julian's reaction forces himself to explain that actually, now the real Julian's come back, he's realised there was something missing from the changeling!Julian... whatever it is about Julian that makes Miles, uh, attracted, he guesses, to him, and um, that did make it easier to be around because he didn't have to fight any stupid feelings and he just thought it was because changeling!you had broken up with Keiko but no, he's probably always been a little bit in lo-- Oookay, and we're kissing now? Julian are you crying?)

(It takes even longer for Garak to realise he still has a chance even though Julian's now dating both O'Briens. In the end, it's Keiko and Miles who push him into it - Julian says something which they both misinterpret as Garak asked him out, and they both go separately to Garak's shop that day to welcome him to the family/give him the shovel talk and Garak tries to just play it off because he wouldn't want to let on that he's confused... But later on he asks Julian "Your lovers seem to believe that we are a couple - and apparently have no objections to it, aside from the worry that I might hurt you" and Julian's like "Why would they think that but also yeah of course they wouldn't have objections I can date who I want" and Garak's like "Would you have objections to dating me?" and Julian's like "Definitely not but you'd have objections to dating me, right?" and Garak's like "What in the world have you that impression, my dear?" and Julian's like "Literally every interaction we've had in the past few months since I started dating... Ohhhhh."

And then they kiss.)

[amorgansgal]

Not What, Who

Decided to write a little fic based on my post on being an oblivious fuck and how funny it would be for Tav to entirely miss what Halsin was getting at during Moonrise Towers. I've done this with a gender neutral tav and used they/them for pronouns, so hopefully anyone and everyone can enjoy their tav being clueless!

Hope you enjoy!

Halsin x G/N Tav

“Oh!” Tav said, looking utterly delighted and Halsin smiled at them. It felt like they had all risked so much to get to this point, to have Ketheric killed and the shadow curse lifted, he almost daren’t even admit to Tav how much he cared for them, how much he had been won over because they cared for him and everyone else. Halsin had asked a lot of them, he knew that, especially given they had their own worries and concerns. Yet here they were, still talking with everyone who had gathered at Moonrise towers, still making sure everyone was alright, making Jaheira laugh and undoubtedly making half the harpers and flaming fist soldiers want to either marry them or offer Tav a place within their ranks! But it felt like a good time to at least hint to Tav-

“You have a crush!” Tav said, beaming. 

Halsin laughed a little nervously. Perhaps it was just the turn of phrase, he hadn’t expected them to respond like that but then-

“Who is it?” Tav asked enthusiastically. “Go on, tell me! Please! I promise I won’t tell a soul, your secret is safe with me!”

Oh gods, they’d not picked up on the hint at all. Tav thought he liked someone else and before Halsin could even say anything else, Tav was already scanning the room presumably for potential candidates. They leaned their head closer to Halsin. “Is it Gale? I think he’s pretty handsome and he likes magic of course, so you’ve got something in common there. Though I would’ve thought he was a bit too obsessed with books. Not that there’s anything wrong with that or that you don’t like books, but you know, you like being out and about and Gale’s happy with his tower and books everywhere. Hmm, Karlach? I can see you getting on with her and you did say you were good with the larger ladies!”

He couldn’t seem to conjure any words, either to convey to Tav that it had been them he was talking about or to deny it was anyone else. “I… uh…”

But Tav’s attention was suddenly distracted by the return of Dame Aylin and the reuniting of Isobel with Aylin. Tav smiled, “I’m just going to make sure Aylin is alright after that fight, I’ll be back in just a minute.”

As Tav left he caught Astarion’s eye who had apparently been watching and listening in to the entire conversation. The man was outright snickering and strolled over to Halsin. Halsin finally cleared his throat. “I think Tav might not have quite caught what I meant,” Halsin said.

“No, in fact I think it went soaring over their head! You might want to be a little more direct next time!” and with that the vampire spawn went off to talk to Shadowheart, leaving Halsin to gaze at Tav and trying to figure out how he could tell them what exactly he had meant and when it would be best to do so.

[emhoo]

PICTURE IT. It’s the opening to Portia Featherington’s spin-off. She’s sitting by the window, alone per usual.

Her monologue begins:

“They believe they know me.

I know what they whisper behind their fans. That I am ridiculous, flagrant, desperate. Tasteless and tactless, they call me. They believe the armor I wear is who I am—a scheming matriarch with no shame, her head held high no matter the storm. A woman either too oblivious to notice their disdain or too foolish to care. But the truth is, I do notice. And I care more than I’d ever admit.

Every glance that lingers a second too long, every pointed silence, every snide remark wrapped in a smile—oh, I feel it all. I feel it more than they could imagine. But I’ve learned that there is no mercy for women like me in Mayfair. Women who weren’t born into the right families. Women who aren’t quiet. Women who are different.

And so I pretend. I pretend that I don’t hear the whispers or see the smirks. I pretend that the scandals I’ve weathered have left me unscathed, that the schemes I’ve spun to protect my family haven’t cost me my soul. I pretend so well that sometimes I almost believe it myself. Almost.

What they don’t see is the exhaustion. The endless, bone-deep weariness of being always on guard. Always fighting for my place, for my girls’ futures, for survival in a world that would gladly watch me fall. They don’t see the nights I lie awake, staring at the ceiling and wondering what it might feel like to rest. To simply be.

I wasn’t born with the easy charm of Lady Bridgerton or the impenetrable dignity of the Lady Danbury. No, I was born to scrape and claw and endure. And endure I do. But I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t hurt. That it doesn’t cut me to the quick every time they look at me as though I am less.

They say I am an outsider, and they’re right. I’ve always been one. Even when I was a girl I could feel it—the distance, the knowledge that I didn’t quite fit. I thought I could eventually earn my place if I smiled brightly enough, if I said the right things, wore the right gowns, married the right man. But no matter how hard I tried, it was never enough. I realized since then that it never would be.

So I stopped trying to fit in and instead, I made my own place. Bold colors and bold words. If they were going to laugh at me, I’d give them a reason to laugh. If they were going to whisper, I’d give them something to whisper about. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t mean I don’t wish things were different.

Sometimes I wonder what they’d say if they saw the truth of me. If they saw how tired I am. How lonely. How much I’ve sacrificed to keep my family afloat, to keep my daughters safe. Would they pity me? Mock me? Or would they finally understand that my armor isn’t proof of my strength, but of my fear?

I’ll never know. I’ll never let them see. In this world survival relies on performance, and I intend to keep the curtain drawn. After all, if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that vulnerability is a luxury women like me cannot afford.

I wonder how much longer I can keep going. How many more scandals I can outlive, how many more insults I can swallow. Sometimes I long to stop, to lay down my armor and let the world do its worst. To let someone else fight for a change. But who would? Who could? There’s no one coming to rescue women like me. No one to swoop in and declare, “Enough, Lady Featherington. Rest now. I’ll take it from here.”

And so I carry on, because that is what I must do. For my daughters, for myself.

I think about my late husband more than I’d care to admit. Not because I miss him—I haven’t missed him for a moment—but because he is the ghost that haunts every choice I’ve made since his death. His gambling debts, his disregard for our future, the shame he left me to bear alone. It’s funny, isn’t it? How a man can ruin a woman’s life and still leave her to carry his name.

I wonder what he’d think of all I’ve managed to survive. Would he be proud? Would he even notice? I suppose it doesn’t matter. He’s gone, and I am still here.

And still I wonder what it would it feel like to belong. To be seen not as a joke, but as someone who has fought tooth and nail for her place in this world? Would anyone look at me and see a mother who loves fiercely even if she doesn’t always know how to show it? A woman who has made mistakes, yes, but always with the best intentions?

Perhaps not. And perhaps it doesn’t matter. Because even if no one else sees me, I see me. I see the woman who refuses to be broken. The woman who, time and again, has rebuilt the rubble into a home. The woman who, despite it all, keeps going.

At least, that’s what I tell myself. Because really, it’s all I have. My pride, my determination, and the unyielding belief that I will survive. I always do.”

If there’s ever a spin-off for her I want IN on writing the script. No one gets her but I do 😔