#I cannot hold down an art style for the life of me

[spadillelicious]

Spadille!! 💭 what inspired you to create LDR?

(Hey Spike!! :D So sorry for taking forever to answer this...!!) To be honest, there are a bunch of different things that inspired me to make LDR!! Firstly, all the amazing creativity of the dca fandom inspired me to make my own AU. It just blows my mind to see all the wonderful art and writing created for our favourite celestial jesters every day! <3 Some AU:s that were especially influential to me that I would like to mention is @/venomous-qwille :s Ghost In the Machine AU and @/certified-handler :s Dealer's Choice AU.

I find Qwille's writing style incredibly painting and immersive, and it inspired me to get better at writing myself. I also really like the way they use music for some of their scenes! (that one scene where Misuta sings a line of Eurythmics' 'Sweet Dreams' hit especially different, and sent me down a rabbit hole of reconnecting with 80s synth music. I still haven't recovered over a year later haha <3 /lh )

And for Certi's writing, I cannot get over how good they are at writing scenes that just fill your heart with butterflies with how suave the dca are in their AU!! They're also really good at writing very tense, high-stakes scenes, and their AU has so many twists and turns that I always struggle to put the fic down <3 I really enjoy how the reader isn't sure who to trust out of Sun and Moon in their fic, which is something I wanted for LDR too :)

Besides the incredible works of the dca fandom, I also really like the aesthetics and nostalgia of the 80s and retro tech, which was something I wanted to include in my AU as well! I grew up with stuff like cassettes and VHS tapes (though not in the 80s), and reconnecting with that stuff felt... healing in a way I guess?

Speaking of 80s stuff, rollerskates have a special meaning to me as well. 

I grew up in a place where there are barely any places to rollerskate, but instead plenty of places to ice skate. It's cheap, and everyone knows how to. But I just suck at ice skating. I've tried to learn my entire life, and I still can barely stand on them.

When I was 15 though, I got to try rollerskating for the first time. There aren't any roller rinks where I grew up, but for PE class in high school, we could choose to rollerskate or play soccer. So I chose rollerskating, borrowed some knee pads and outdoor skates from a nearby YMCA, and for the first time I actually enjoyed skating. 

I still wasn't any good at it, but it was so much more fun than ice skating, and it felt like it was something that was much more... me than ice skating. I will always hold the memories of rollerskating around the lake, under the summer sun with my friends, close to my heart <3

And regarding what inspired the other, less sunny side of LDR... Maybe I'll talk about that some other time.

[qingwaaa]

That’s cool bro, but like what if Irkens cried stars tho?

[purrplegyuu]

The best for both of us | Choi Beomgyu

Pairing: Writter!oc (named Seoli), animator!Beomgyu

Warnings: penetrative sex, oral (fem receiving), clitoris stimulation, unprotected sex, overstimulation, poor plot, gaslighting, non corresponded love, toxic Beomgyu, soft som Beomgyu, sub reader, lemmie know if im missing something.

Word count: 2,6k

Masterlist

“We’ve already read your book and it’s amazing. We also saw the animations, and we all thought they are perfect for our style. However…” he stops talking.

“However, it’s too disturbing for anyone under fifteen” says his boss. The woman, the owner of the video games company, who wears an expensive suit that screams everywhere she’s a squared closed box. I don’t really know how she manages a video games company. “Which wouldn’t concern us if we didn’t want the money, but we need this project to be suitable for all ages”

“I talked about this before, I have already rejected various contracts because I’m not interested in any project in which my art is changed” I say.

“Well, as I already said before, we need this to be suitable for all ages”

I stand up, taking my documents from the table, and when I’m about to leave, Beomgyu takes my arm, forcing me to sit down.

“Well, why don’t we listen to their proposal?” He asks, looking at me with killing eyes, which I don’t really understand since he’s always been on my side when I rejected last projects for the same reason.

“Yeah, sure. We just thought it would be better if Kira’s enemy isn’t her mother but her father. This way, we can avoid some future problems with angry mothers” one of the workers points out in the presentation, the part where all of the changes appear. I frown, disgusted. “We can also make her boyfriend the good guy instead of just another enemy—you know, for the love scenes we need to create a fandom” A good boyfriend? In real life? I cannot help laughing sarcastically at this, to which Beomgyu hits me with his elbow on my arm. “And she might also change a little bit—see, this is Kira before, and this might be her after” the picture on the presentation shows the draw Beomgyu made with my instructions. I told him to use only black ink, and draw it very messy. I remember the day we decided that this art style was just perfect for my book. When I created Kira I was thinking of the worst part of the world, I even got inspired by my own life. She’s too thin because she had very poor eating habits, she’s tall, her hair is messy and greasy and the clothes she wears are made for someone bigger. Which makes a big contrast with the whole new character they made—this Kira is short, and has a big pair of round boobs, a tiny waist and big thighs; her hair is pretty and… she just seems like another video game girl character.

“We will skip her eating disorder, and she will not die at the end. There’s obviously more changes to do, but those are the most important ones”

Everyone looks at me while I try to do as much as I can in order to not explode there and then. I feel just so offended that I cannot even speak. Even if I open my mouth, nothing comes out.

I stand up, take my papers and get out of the office, not even worrying if Beomgyu tries to hold me once again.

After an hour or two of getting back home, I finally start to calm down. That’s exactly when Beomgyu enters home too.

“Fuck, you could have waited for me, you know?” He wasn’t mad, that’s just his usual behavior.

“Seoli, we need to talk” I do not turn around to face him, keeping up on reading the instructions of the new bedroom lamp I just bought. “Seoli” he takes my hand, forcing me to turn around. “Why do you keep rejecting any minor change in your books?”

I turn my eyes. “You should know that, Gyu. My books are all too personal. If I write something is because I feel it, and I don’t like it to be changed”

“Yeah, I understand that, but you cannot keep rejecting every opportunity you have” he sighs. “See, babe, I think this is the best company you’ve been contacted by, and if you want to succeed, you should sign with them”

I frown. “Why do you like this company that much? I’ve rejected thousands of companies before, and you always supported me”

“I’m just looking for the best for both of us. We’re twenty now, but soon, we’re gonna be thirty, and forty, and fifty; we need to make money for the future… this isn’t a big company—small enough for you to be important and ask for almost everything you want, but also big enough to succeed monetarily and as an artist. This is just what we need”

“I don’t care about the money, everything I care about is being loyal to myself. I won’t sell myself and my art to some shitty company. The things they said to me in that reunion were almost insulting! How the fuck am I supposed to be fine while seeing one of my deepest books being thrown away this bad and be happy with it because I MIGHT get two hundred dollars a month from now on?! Specially in this one book!… this is almost my own autobiography…” the last words were almost audible, very low in contrast with the rest of my screams. It hurts my heart as I said it.

I see some kind of compassion in my colleague’s eyes. We never talked too deeply about it, but I did tell him that most of my books have some kind of self insert somewhere, but never as important as this one.

He takes my body in his hands, hugging me so comfortably as one only time before—when I confessed to him, and he said sorry because he couldn’t correspond to me.

He moves apart without letting me go, and unexpectedly, takes the back of my neck and kisses me. He only touches my lips with his once, moving away just a little, and then kisses me deeper when I take the back of his neck also with my right hand and his shoulder with my left hand.

He’s gentle at first, only leaving some close mouthed kisses on my lips, until he notices I’m more eager, and then, he devours my mouth whole like it's the last thing he’s gonna do on earth.

His hands travel all over my body as he starts kissing the side of my neck, sucking on my skin, biting and then licking, to which I cannot do anything but hum in pleasure—he touches my back, caresses my waist and pushes the hem of my gray shirt up.

I squeeze his shoulder when he take off my shirt and starts kissing my clavicles, and scream of pleasure as he bites the bone.

While devouring my torax, he manages to take off my black bralette, and kisses all of the skin of my small breasts, making me wonder if he actually likes the curvy girls he shows me of it it’s always been nothing but a façade in order to no look like a pervert.

He takes my hand from the back of his neck, moving away from me, unbuttoning my low-rise jeans and lowering my panties, then guiding me to sit on the couch. I oblige, and soon he’s kissing my body again, my abdomen, my pelvis, my thighs—which he takes and puts them over his shoulders before looking at me, right in the eyes as if looking for consent, but keeps going without a second of thought.

I scream when I feel his muscle exploring all of my cunt without a warning.

“Gyu-“ I moan while tapping his back with the tip of my foot.

He notices I got more sensitive everytime he stimulates my clitoris with his tongue, so he decides to do precisely this while one of his fingers caresses my entrance. A second finger enters, and he starts scissoring as if measuring if something will be able to come in.

My hand found its way on Beomgyu’s fluffy hair, which I take strongly trying to move it apart but also trying to keep it as close as I can.

Once he positions himself on the perfect way to have me screaming his name once and again and again, he starts doing it nonstop, faster, and holding my body by my pelvic area so I don’t move too much. My whole body trembles from pleasure, and I feel the knot on my lower abdomen tightening so much I feel it’s about to break.

And within thirty seconds morr, my whole body spasms under his, while I scream nonesenses and cry his name. He keeps on licking my whole cunt, cleaning me from my orgasm, making me cry at the oversensitivity. I try to push his face away, however, my strength after an orgasm is always null.

He goes back to the same speed as earlier, to which I scream: “Too much, gyu!”, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, his pace becomes even faster, making my head spin as I unexpectedly orgasm once again, faster than the first time.

He caresses my pelvic bones, licking my juices from his face. He stands up and kisses my lips once again, letting me taste my own cum.

I hear his right hand unbuttoning his jeans while his left hand helps him hover over me. I hear his clothes fall to the ground, and then, his tip touches my left thigh. I move away from the kiss for a second, moaning as I mentally prepare myself for having sex after one and a half large years of not being active.

“I know it’s always been hard to go through changes, babe,” he mutters in between kisses. “but everything I’m doing is looking for the best for you. You’re really successful with your books, but you don’t know if it will ever change as you grow up” the contrast between his lovely words and his condescending voice tone, and his hand lifting one of my legs up to my ribs making me go crazy. “Besides, you can ask for any change you want, and as long as it doesn’t make the game too disturbing for kids under twelve years old, they will accept it” the tip of his cock touches my clitoris at first, and then, he explores my whole cunt, looking too casual in contrast with my high expression. “Seoli, I will always be by your side” and suddenly, that option didn’t seem like trash anymore.

With that, he puts the head of his cock inside my entrance, to which I scream squeezing his shoulder. He goes back to kiss my clavicles while going on until he bottoms out. Feeling his tip against my spongy point, the deepest part of my cunt, makes me forget about all of the doubts I have, and I already know that the second I wake up tomorrow, I will be calling the company and ask for them to meet again.

He doesn’t give me time to get used to his big size, and starts moving immediately after he bottoms out, at a savage pace that makes my head spin. The way he’s hitting my cervix strongly over and over again has me cumming after less than two or three minutes. He doesn’t stop there though, and doesn’t even slow down. The second orgasm comes after maybe five minutes more, much more intense and piercing. My legs tremble, and he chuckles while taking my other leg and lifting it up to my chest also, making his cock go even deeper.

He holds both my legs up with one hand while the other stimulates my clitoris in circular motion, nonstoping, without giving me time to recover.

I cum once again, and my whole body feels so tense I feel like I'm about to break.

“Gyu-yu, I can’t anymore” I cry, the tears spilling from the corner of my eyes as I take his shoulders, trying to move his body away from mine. “please”

“I know, sweet, but you’re gonna help me cum too, right? You’re not a selfish princess, right?” His face is not close to mine now, and my legs find their way on his shoulders while he prepares himself for fucking my cunt faster and stronger than before.

I squeeze the silk of the couch, while my tears run down my face and all over the couch, and I scream his name over and over. His pace becoming even more animalistic as I feel his cock twitch inside of my vagina, the heat inside of me making me feel like I’m about to be torn there and then. The feeling is so unbearable, but also addictive. At this point, I don’t even understand myself.

He cums inside of me with a guttural growl, and keeps fucking his cum in for some seconds before using his hand to try to put his cum in when it tries to escape. I cum on his fingers one last time, and he leaves a kiss on my forehead.

(…)

I fix my lanyard with my work ID on my neck, holding my drawing tablet and the handmade sketches I’ve made.

“Oh, see! There’s coffee over there!” Beomgyu says amazed.

“Every company has coffee for workers, Gyu”

He goes to get a cup while I look for the office. The boss asked me to meet her once I accepted working with her. I signed the contract a week ago after making her accept the clause of letting my opinion be the most important one over there.

“Oh, Seoli!” That voice… it’s just impossible to forget it. “Oh my god, I’m so excited to see you again! Ever since high school I knew you were gonna succeed, you’re so talented!”

We went to high school together, and after we graduated, we also went to the same college. She stuck to me since then, but I never liked her a lot. She wasn’t a bad person, I just didn’t match her energy. However, I did everything I could in order to separate her from me in college, right after I realized Beomgyu liked her. Beomgyu and I met at college—the three of us decided to study an art major—, and it took us only one semester to start living together as roommates, and two more months to start working together on the animation of my books. We left college so we could put all of our time on making money with the animations, and luckily, that was enough for Beomgyu to forget her. At least that was what I thought.

“Dami? Do you work here?” I ask.

“Kind of. My mother is the owner of this company, and she likes me to participate on all of the projects. We’re gonna be a team! Just like in college!” She says with a big smile. “Where’s Beomgyu, by the way?”

Everything makes sense suddenly, why did he get so excited when I received the invitation to this company, and why was he so eager for me to come, and why did he want me to stay here.

I turn around slowly, and as soon as I find him with a scared expression, I feel my eyes ache.

He fucked me so he could get a chance with the one girl he likes.

How dumb.

[gluion]

first to know you, first to love you ➵ eric sohn

all you should care about is graduating with flying colors, so why are you starting to care about your seatmate?

requested by @mosviqu @sohnric for the song "valentine" by laufey

general genre/warnings ➵ strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, slice of life, afab reader (they/them pronouns), reader is a psychology student who has so much aspirations (and also believes love and studies cannot be balanced), eric is your seatmate-turned-friend-turned-lover, library dates reading dates study dates you name it!, eric is the most supportive guy out here, he annotates a book for you..., references to books and poetry, he buys you stuff, and he reads a book for you!!, slight hurt/comfort, kissing, also unedited IM SORRY!!!

word count ➵ 10k words

taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @mosviqu @vernyangel

a/n ➵ okay i am WITHIN the word limit!! but i know i went over the limit of scenarios (this may be the last time this happens... i don't know yet... help?) but i hope you enjoy this bar!! i am not too happy about my writing style for this one :') and i know reader may not be very "black cat" as i know you but i hope you'll still enjoy it to the fullest </3 also i made sure to not mention anything related to height LMFAO for the other readers: if you enjoyed this, always make sure to reblog (even if it’s on your tbr)!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! want to request? check out my guidelines! masterlist

The years spent in university may be defined differently by everyone. Some may live out these years to enjoy the supposed independence they craved in high school. Others may spend those years exploring their interests and hobbies as they figure out what their future may have in store for them.

You, however, were a different case—head in scientific journals and coursework with a plan to graduate summa cum laude. As you study in a quota course, you’re determined to come out of university with flying colors. In a sea of students who are of similar (or even better) skill sets as you, the desire to be recognized as one of the top students is what you long for.

And for you, that means you were set on not entertaining ideas that may divide your attention from your studies—you were not going to allow yourself to fall in love in your years of university.

That is until a certain boy who goes by Eric Sohn came into your life.

CHAPTER ONE: LOVE LABORS LOST

The season of summer still lingers in the air; birds chipper as they sit on the tree branches; the sun glows yellow in the sea of blue; people point their fans at themselves as they are forced to bask in the heat.

But the new academic year has commenced, and you are determined to ace your classes once more. You’ve read the syllabi of all the classes you were going to take, even ones for your general subjects. Many people believe that general subjects are a waste of their time. You, however, thought differently, especially since one of the subjects you’re taking this semester is English Literature.

Coming from a STEM-oriented course, you may not seem like the type to enjoy literature. But the reality is that you love to learn about poets and writers—ones who seemed to craft worlds and dynamics that you could never translate into words. This misconception of those who enjoy science being unable to appreciate written bodies of art is one you face. But at least this course is a general subject, leaving you on equal footing with individuals from different courses.

You sit by the window as you wait for your professor to finish setting up his laptop. It’s syllabus week, so there wasn’t much to be worried about. Once he clears his throat, he shows the class a smile.

“Good morning, class. I’m Mr. Hwang Taejoon, and I am your professor for Introduction to English Literature.” He takes a moment to look down at his clipboard which you can only assume holds a list of his students’ names. “If this isn’t your class, you may take this opportunity to leave.” Some students get off their seats and make their way outside the classroom.

As soon as they left, your professor smiled before clapping his hands. “I’m excited to go through this semester with you. I know this is only an introductory course for you, so I will make sure to guide you all throughout. Now, will–”

The door of the classroom slams open. Your eyes snap to where the sound comes from, showing a boy whose black hair is all tousled up as he pants. He’s all dressed up in a varsity jacket over his hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. You notice how his hand quickly reaches out to his head, fixing his hair. 

The boy then immediately bows down to the class (mostly to your professor) as he says, “Sorry about being late!” Your eyes drift back to Mr. Hwang whose face now holds a frown in contrast to the smile he once showed to you. “I promise, I won’t be late for any other session!”

Mr. Hwang grumbles before he takes another look back down to his clipboard. “Go take a seat.”

The boy stands up straight before flashing your professor an apologetic smile. He quickly makes his way to find a seat. Despite the vacant seats that are located throughout the class, his eyes quickly skimmed through them. That is until his eyes land on you. You notice how his eyes flicker to the empty seat beside you. And the next thing you know, you find him situated to your right.

You try to keep your eyes on your laptop, looking at the text on the syllabus. You didn��t want to stare at him—the boy who took the vacant seat beside you out of all the ones situated around the classroom.

The noise he creates as he brings out his laptop is not loud enough to interrupt the discussion but can drown out your professor’s words. But as soon as he settles down, you notice that he sets his hand down on the space between the two laptops. You cannot help but let your eyes flicker to it, and you notice his wrist is littered with beaded bracelets.

“Now, I’ll be discussing the outputs you are expected to deliver within the semester.” Your eyes snap up to where your professor is, standing right behind the table as he looks through his laptop.

You were ready to focus for today’s session until you felt someone tap your shoulder. As you look to your side, you are met with a boy who shows you a smile—one that is enough to almost have you smiling back, just almost.

“Hi, can I ask if there was anything I missed?” It’s a simple question, but you find yourself unable to formulate an answer. His voice is enough to send you into a lullaby; he could have his own podcast and you’d listen only to hear him speak nonstop, whether it would be of logical discussions or nonsensical chatter.

Without any idea of how to voice your thoughts, you only shake your head. He nods and shoots you a wink before looking back to the professor.

You should’ve been thrown off by his sudden action. If anything, you have every right to roll your eyes at him. But you do nothing of the sort, only looking back at your professor who demands your attention while your mind remains preoccupied with the boy beside you.

This could be due to all the years focused on your studies. You could care less about all the people who tried to earn your affection, from your classmates in your majors to even those part of the same club as you. But the boy emits an aura that has you only thinking of him. How can you ace this class if you’re turning putty at the first meeting? You need to get a better grip on yourself.

“Now, I want you to answer these,” Mr. Hwang says as he flashes a question on the screen: What role does literature play in your life? “And talk about it with your seatmates. Now would be a good time to get to know your classmates with the upcoming paired assessment around the corner.”

As you read out the words on the screen, you are not given enough time to think as the boy beside you clears his throat. You look back at him, met with the same smile he flashed at you then. Does he do this with every person he first meets?

“I think I should introduce myself. I’m Eric Sohn, majoring in Hotel Culinary Arts,” he says with his hand out toward you. You take a glance at his hand before letting yourself hold it, shaking it firmly.

“I’m Y/N, majoring in Psychology.”

You notice the way his eyes widen as you mention your course. “Do you perhaps know someone named Kevin Moon?”

The mention of your friend’s name has you smiling. “Yeah, I do. We’ve worked together since we’re part of our home org. How do you know him?” Your hand drifts away from his, crossing your arms as you listen intently to what he has to say.

“Mutual friends,” he reveals as he lets one of his arms rest on the back of your chair. With one hand tucked under his chin, he rests his arm on the table. He takes a glance at the screen shown in the front to refresh his memory on the question. “Would you like to go first? Or do you want me to start?”

You nod your head, signaling for him to start. He takes a deep breath as he looks up to the ceiling, gathering his thoughts. “Well, I’ve read a few books then and there, but I think it was only when I entered uni that I started really reading more books if that makes sense.”

As his eyes meet yours, you nod as a way to show you understand him. “Yeah, I hate to admit this at first meeting but I’m a very romantic person.” You cannot help but raise your eyebrows at his words, earning a chuckle from him.

“I swear, I am! That’s why I started reading because my sister got me hooked on some romance books, so I’d like to think that literature helps me imagine scenarios I would love to see play out.” You notice the way he starts to scratch the back of his neck. “It doesn’t have to be me as the protagonist, but I’d like it,” he shyly admits, making you smile unconsciously.

God, you were not the type to just smile at some random boy. So why did Eric seem to have this effect on you?

Your thoughts snap you back into reality; the smile is now replaced by your calm demeanor. “I guess I can start.” As you see him signal for you to continue, you bite the inside of your cheek as you let your eyes drift to the screen.

“Well, I’ve been reading my whole life, actually,” you look back at Eric who seems to show genuine interest in what you have to say. Oddly enough, you feel as if you can tell him more than just the typical story you tell people.

“I know people don’t expect me to be this type because I major in Psychology, and I have this tendency to read a lot of scientific journals and textbooks for my classes but that’s because I enjoy learning about the human condition.” You let your eyes drift off to nowhere as you reveal a part of you to a stranger. Maybe it’s because he’s a stranger that makes it easier for you to admit details you wouldn’t normally admit to someone whom you’ve met under a different circumstance.

“But I’ve always had an affinity for reading. Books can be a form of escapism through fictional stories, but they can also be a way to encapsulate memories of someone,” you continue with a small sigh. “I have been quite behind with my reading schedule though, so I’m hoping this class may propel me back to getting back to reading.”

He hums as he nods before saying, “No, I get it. I like that answer.” You look back at the boy who only smiles at you. “It’s nice to know that you still want to go back to reading despite how much your other classes demand it. I know many people who’ve lost that love and don’t see themselves going back to it, you know?” You nod at his words.

You were no stranger to the love-hate relationship when it comes to reading. If anything, that is how you’d describe your relationship when it comes to the hobby. But you were hoping that the upcoming years would treat you right and that your love for said hobby may not dissipate. 

“Yeah, I would hate to lose that form of escapism from my studies.”

He nods with a small chuckle following. “I get it, I would hate to lose it, too.”

With no idea how to respond, you expect silence to follow. But Eric quickly fills it as he asks you a question. “Do you know anyone in this class?” As you shake your head, he lets out a sigh of relief. “Okay, same.”

You cannot help but giggle. “I mean, if I knew someone, then I would be sitting with them,” you point out.

You want to ask him why he chose to take a seat beside you, but he beats you to it by asking you another question. “Do you have a class before this?”

“Uh, no,” you say as you quickly take a glance at your laptop, moving the windows away to show your schedule. Since the semester just started, you didn’t memorize your schedule. “It’s my first class of the day, but my next class is around 3.” You look back at the boy who cannot hide the way he reels at your schedule.

“You have such a long break. But me too,” he says as he pulls out his phone. As he shows you his schedule, you notice how big of a gap he has for today, where his next class is happening around 6 p.m. “But at least the other days are back-to-back. I just didn’t get lucky with my Mondays and Thursdays. I tried to change it but all the professors denied my request.”

You cannot help but sigh at the sight of his schedule as you remember yours. “Same. Well, I guess we’re stuck with our shitty schedules.”

Then, he asks, “Do you want to exchange schedules and numbers, perhaps?” Your eyebrows shoot up at his question. “I mean, I just don’t know anyone here, so I’d love to at least have a familiar face I can go to, especially for this class.”

You know you’re about to enter dangerous territories. With the numerous books you’ve read, you were sure this is what books typically started their stories with—a meeting between the two protagonists whose relationship will only have room to blossom.

And you should have kept him at arm's length. You didn’t want to risk getting friendly with someone like Eric because even at the first meeting, you couldn’t help but feel yourself drawn to him. But he’s nothing but kind and there should be no problem with allotting him space to take up in your life. All you need to do is stick to your plan—no idea of pursuing romance shall be entertained until you graduate. You can only hope that your interest in him is just a happy crush, one that will never flourish further. 

So you find yourself nodding to his request to which he grins. But before he can say anything, the light comes through the window. He squints as it hits his face, raising his hand to shield his eyes.

“Here, you can put your number and social media then I’ll send you my schedule.” The boyish grin on his face alongside the sunlight that makes him glow is a sight the universe has gifted to you.

You’ve read all about protagonists being bewitched by the presence of another, but works of literature have not prepared you to experience the same. For once, you wish you could find the right words to describe the sight but all you can think of is what a pleasure it is to be seeing this at the start of your day—you can only hope that your happy crush remains that way.

CHAPTER TWO: LITTLE WOMEN

The later hours of the day dawned upon you. The fluorescent overhead lights are dim as only the lamps situated at every table shine bright; you enjoy them for they never make the library bleak. The wooden interior found in every corner of this library reminds you of your own back in your childhood home. But the main act of the show is the books; the wide selection they offer has you always here at every possible hour, whether it may be to study or to possibly read for leisure.

You usually find yourself alone on most occasions spent here. If you found yourself working on a group project, you would usually opt to have such meetings at the study hall situated a few buildings away. It made sense to have those in a place where you could freely talk versus a library where it would be limited to occasional chatter or whispers. Today, however, is an exception, for you now sit across from your partner for your first paired work for Mr. Hwang’s class.

“I don’t usually spend my time here, but it’s nice,” Eric voices out as he looks around, taking in the sight of his surroundings. There were barely any students in the library around these hours. Usually, it would be you and some familiar faces you recognized because of the numerous instances you stayed here.

You’re not sure why you didn’t push for the study hall, but Eric’s explanation for choosing this place made sense. If you were going to study literature, why not do it in a place that is filled to the brim with it? It’s convenient if you need to quickly pull out a book because you’re already there. But the reality is that you liked this space as your own—somewhat like a part of the university that you believe to reflect the intimate parts of you.

You hum while you look down at your iPad where your notes are all scribbled down. “I’m always here. I spend most of my time studying or reading here.” You look up to Eric whose gaze is trained on you. Oddly enough, it feels like his eyes sparkle despite how dim the environment may be.

With that, you break eye contact with him as you look over a few tables away where you notice students who you knew only by their faces. “Yeah, like I know some of the people there just because we always seem to stay in the library until the closing hours.”

He hums before asking, “Do you know their names?” You shake your head before looking back at him.

“I only know the names of the librarians and staff. I’ve never been bothered to know the names of the other students, but we still say hi whenever we pass by each other.”

He can only nod at your words. “Sorry about interrupting the discussion, we can go back to it.”

“It’s fine.” You cannot help but smile as you shake your head. “It was a break we needed to take.”

He shoots you that boyish grin—one you’ve grown fond of after seeing him every week for class—before he continues, “So, we were talking about the confession scene of Laurie.”

“Ah, that one,” you cut him off as you lean back in your chair.

He chuckles for a moment. “So, what are your thoughts on the scene?”

You let out a sigh before saying, “Well, I am 100% on Jo’s side. I mean, she has every right to decline a man’s confession, especially if she has all these aspirations she wants to achieve.” You bite on the inside of your cheek as you recall the passages in your head. “And the audacity for Laurie to be, I guess, “jealous” of Professor Bhaer is unreasonable. I mean, it’s clear she doesn’t have room for anything romantic in her life, and I think that should be respected.”

“But,” Eric quickly scrolls through his notes found on his laptop. “Don’t we learn later on that Jo ends up longing for love in the end? Doesn’t she end up wanting both—a chance to pursue her dreams while also longing to be in love?”

You cannot help but chuckle at his counterargument. “Yes, but I think that this book was written poorly. I mean, we learned in the earlier chapters that Jo did not want to marry, and didn’t we also learn that Alcott only wrote Jo and Bhaer marrying each other because her publishers forced her?”

Eric hums for a moment. “I mean, we do learn that. But I think another way to look at it is that Jo was not ready to let someone take up such an important space at that period of her life. And I think it’s perfectly fine for her to realize later on that what she thought then is not what she wants after all.” With pursed lips, he lets his gaze flicker away from the laptop and back to you. “I know we put relevance to the context of the author, but I think it’s fine to derive our own interpretations of the text despite what the author intended, you know? That’s at least what I learned in my Art Appreciation class.”

Your partner for this assignment brought up valid points. It’s not like he was telling you to agree entirely with his interpretation of the later sequence of Little Women. Instead, he was engaging in discourse with you, sharing what he thought of the scene to provide a different perspective.

“I just,” you bite the inside of your cheek. “I just think Jo’s character was so revolutionary in the field of classics. I’ve read so much about women being viewed as individuals who are only meant to marry, but authors never put importance into their aspirations. I think that’s why I loved Jo’s character.” When you notice that Eric keeps his gaze on you without any sign that he’ll interrupt, you decide to continue. “She clearly had her priorities and wasn’t willing to let the idea of romance get in the way.”

Eric’s expression slowly starts to shift into confusion. Despite your words speaking on Jo’s character, it was starting to make sense to both of you that these sentiments came from a personal standpoint.

“Is this you speaking from experience?”

For a moment, you think of lying to the boy who sits across from you. You didn’t want to hear whatever comments he would make of your own choice to keep your love life as lackluster as possible. Yet, his eyes speak thousands of words—all revolving around curiosity. And you realize that maybe Eric won’t judge you. After all, when has he ever shown you that he would criticize you?

You sigh as you let your eyes look down at your notes. “I’m not looking for a relationship, or love, in general. I don’t think I have the time to even sustain one, and I care too much about my studies to even consider it.” You look back at Eric whose doe eyes still seem to shine.

He nods, letting silence take over. Your answer hangs in the air, almost as if you two needed it to marinate further. That is until Eric decides to break the silence.

“Do you ever get jealous of what you read?” You cannot help but tilt your head at his question. He shakes his head, trying to gather the right words to say. “I mean, you’ve read so many books, and I’m sure many of them have revolved around the theme of love and romance, especially the classics. Do you not want to experience that for yourself?”

Eric’s question seemed to be rooted in genuine curiosity. And you cannot help but ponder over his words.

It’s true that you would find yourself longing to experience the wonders of love that writers seem to talk about. It would be untrue if you said you didn’t give the idea a second thought—what would it be like to allow yourself to enjoy romance all while you study for your degree? But then you remember that there wasn’t anyone, really, to have you consider such. It was only an idea you would think about but never proceed with—there was no one to take up that space in your life to begin with.

So you sigh, shaking your head as you look back down at your notes, and say, “It’s not like anyone has given me a reason to reconsider.” You leave it at that, deciding not to indulge in the topic any further. And Eric only hums, looking back at his notes.

You take this opportunity to review your notes, recollecting every detail that is worth discussing with Eric for the upcoming presentation. Unbeknownst to you, however, your partner has his mind preoccupied with another matter—what can he do to become the reason you consider?

CHAPTER THREE: PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

The moon may be shining brightly tonight, but you’ll never know. All huddled up in the library, the lamp on your table shines over your laptop and sprawled-out notes. You weren’t sure how long you’d been in this library. All you know is that you still have papers to accomplish and exams to study for.

But at least you were going through this in the comfort of your favorite spot in the university for they seemed to keep the library open all day during midterm season. And at least you had someone there to keep you company during this mess.

“This paper is impossible,” Eric complains as he rubs his eyes from exhaustion. You’re sure it’s past midnight. “What did you write your paper on?”

You cannot help but yawn. “Uh, I wrote it on Still I Rise just because it answers the prompt pretty well.” With droopy eyes, you look at your friend who now leans his head on his arm that is propped up on the table.

“Man, that’s good.” You cannot help but chuckle at his reaction. “I’m hesitant about using a poem just because I’m scared I won’t be able to share my thoughts well. Like, I know I talked about how we interpret the text as something that matters, but sometimes I cannot make sense of what these poets are saying.” His tired expression shows how long he’s been pondering on what to write.

With the paper due a few days from now, you were sure Eric was pressured to think of anything to write about. So you decide to lean back in your chair, brainstorming for anything to help him. Yet, you only draw a blank, clearly exhausted from all the studying and writing you’ve been doing.

His cackle comes out of the blue. Your eyes snap to his face, seeing that his crinkled eyes are set on you. You don’t miss how the students around your area shush him. Eric is suddenly aware of how loud he is as he cannot help but sink into his chair out of embarrassment.

“Sorry, the expression you had on your face made me laugh,” he shyly admits.

You frown at him before saying, “Fine, you’re on your own now.” Your eyes dart back to your laptop.

“Okay, wait!” He quietly exclaims as he grabs onto your forearm. Your eyes drift to his hand that rests on your arm, slowly drifting away from exhaustion. Before you can comment, he retracts his hand. “I would love your help.”

As your eyes settle on him, you notice the pout that rests on his lips. His doe eyes still manage to sparkle in the dimly lit room. The sight warms your heart—you almost let your calm demeanor falter.

“I wish I could help but for once, I can’t think of anything.” As you say those words, the cold air hits your skin. You cross your arms as a shiver runs down your spine.

Somehow, Eric is quick to catch on to your behavior. You watch how he pulls off his hoodie, hair ruffled from the action. And before you know it, he hands it to you.

“Here,” he says as he drops it right beside your laptop, covering your notes. Although you shake your head, he can only roll his eyes. “You clearly need it more than I do.”

With no sign that he’ll back down, you cannot help but sigh. You grab onto the piece of clothing and slip it on you, getting a whiff of a fruity and spicy scent that clings onto it. With how big the hoodie is, it almost acts like a blanket. And when you look back at Eric, you notice the soft expression that takes over his face—a smile that is enough to warm your heart.

“I think you should take a nap.” His suggestion has you shaking your head. “You’re clearly tired.”

You roll your eyes before going back to your laptop. “I can’t or else I’ll be behind on my tasks.”

“Okay, but if you only take an hour to nap, I’m sure you’ll feel well-rested enough to work better.”

Your friend made a valid point. At the rate you were going, you were barely absorbing anything. But you didn’t want to slack off nor did you want to fall behind on your studies.

And as if he notices your worries, he says, “I’ll make sure to wake you up an hour from now.”

You cannot hold back the smile that appears on your face. Somehow, Eric knew all the right words to say in the short span of time he has gotten to know you. And before you know it, your arms settle on the table as you find your chin settling on them. Whether it would be from pure exhaustion or Eric’s persuasion, you found yourself settling in a position good enough to allow yourself to nap.

The victory smile that takes over Eric’s features is one you wish you could smack off his face for you know it’s because you ended up listening to him, but it’s also one you want to store in your memories. His grin is enough to have you smiling back, though you bury the bottom half of your face into the sleeves of his hoodie, getting another whiff of his perfume.

He then goes back to his laptop, scrolling away at what you can assume to be the instructions for the essay required by Mr. Hwang. As you watch him ponder, you cannot help but take in his features; from his strong jaw all the way to his eyes that manage to easily shift between a strong glare to a soft gaze. He is someone sculpted by the deities—you weren’t sure why the universe chose you to be graced by his presence.

In your time knowing him, you knew that he presented himself as a goofball to many. He became the life of the party, per se, for he managed to create a comfortable atmosphere for everyone.

And yet, you knew that it’s only a mask he chooses to wear for the sake of others. In these moments, you learn that he is more than just a childish guy. Past all the layers, he is profound—you first learned that when he shared his interpretation of Jo’s character. You hope that he can find more moments where he’ll expose that side to you.

You move your chin to rest on your arms. “Can I ask what’s your favorite book?” Your sudden question has his eyes snapping at you. “I just realized that we’ve known each other for half a semester because of an English Literature class, but I never bothered to ask about your favorite book.”

He cannot help but chuckle before saying, “It’s The Notebook.” His answer has your face contorting into disappointment. “Hey, what’s wrong with that?” The way he gets defensive has you erupting into a giggle.

“It’s just okay for me. I didn’t enjoy it that much when I read it.”

He furrows his eyebrows not due to disapproval but genuine curiosity. “Okay, so what’s your favorite book then?”

“Pride and Prejudice.” The answer leaves your mouth quickly, almost like it’s second nature to answer the question with that title.

He hums before admitting, “I’ve never read it.”

“Yeah, it shows.” The remark leaves your mouth without letting a second thought come. You notice the way Eric’s expression shifts into a scornful one, and you cannot help but giggle. “I just think that you might reconsider what your favorite book is after reading Pride and Prejudice, you know?” He only nods at your words.

You let out a sigh. “I actually want to reread that book after midterms are done.” Your blinks are slow, exhaustion taking over your body.

Eric is quick to notice how sleepy you’re getting. “Go to sleep. I’ll wake you up an hour from now.” All you do is hum before snuggling the lower half of your face into the sleeves of his hoodie, eyes now closed.

A few minutes pass, and you hear a chair screech softly. You can only assume that Eric had to use the washroom. But when you heard the chair move once more only a few minutes later, you were sure that he only had to get something.

As you hear him clear his throat for a moment, you keep your eyes closed. You try your best to not show you’re awake. And once more minutes have passed, you decide that the coast is clear.

Once you open one eye, you notice that Eric is leaning back in his chair with a book in his hand. He reads it intently, unaware of your gaze on him. You let your gaze drift to the cover of the book, and it takes everything in you to hold back a gasp. In his hands is a copy of Pride and Prejudice, the same one you found yourself revisiting just to read your favorite passages.

As you let your eyes close, a smile shows on your lips. Thankfully, it is hidden by the sleeves your face is snuggled into. With the sight replaying in your head accompanied by his perfume, your heart warms at the thought of him. You can only hope that he’ll love that book as much as you do—you can only hope that this infatuation will pass.

CHAPTER FOUR: EMMA

The season of fall has come; the sky is a patchwork of hues of orange; the leaves have turned to shades of brown; the wind has gotten cooler. Long gone was the heat that summer brought—you were dying to experience the joys of autumn.

Thankfully, you finished your last class for the day. As students piled out of the classroom, you were taking your time tidying your things. For once, you didn’t have any tasks to accomplish within the day which meant tonight would be time for you to enjoy, all snuggled up in bed as you finally reread Pride and Prejudice.

You were satisfied with the grades you received from your midterm assessments. Somehow, your efforts spent studying reflected well in the feedback your professors provided. Now, you can reward yourself with reading your favorite book.

When you exit the classroom, you expect yourself to go straight back to your dorm. However, the sight of Eric Sohn standing outside with his back leaning on the wall is what disrupts your plans.

“Eric? How did you know I was here?” Your shocked expression has him chuckling.

“We exchanged schedules, remember?” He says as he stands up straight, walking closer to you. You two stood in the middle of the hallway with little to no students in sight. “I kind of got lost, if I’m going to be honest.”

As he admits that information, you cannot help but giggle. “I mean, this is where most of my major classes are. That’s why I’m surprised to see a Hotel Culinary Arts student like you here.” He shoots you that boyish grin which has you smiling back. “So, to what do I owe this pleasure? Do you perhaps need help with the upcoming assessment for Mr. Hwang’s class?” You attempt to joke as you remain unaware of the reason behind Eric’s visit.

But when he pulls out a book from behind his back, your smile shifts into a shocked expression. In his hands is a new copy of Pride and Prejudice, one different from the one that he was reading in the library that one night. As your eyes zero on the book he holds, you do not pay attention to whatever expression Eric may have.

“I finally got around to reading your favorite book, and I have to admit that you’re right. I think this might be my new favorite book,” he hands the book to you. Your hands trail over the cover, still shocked that he ended up finishing it. “And I wanted to finish it before you reread it.”

You were expecting him to only read a few chapters, but for him to find enough time to finish it before you could pick it up? You realized you were screwed.

Your hands find themselves flipping through the pages—and holy shit, there are notes and scribbles all over the pages. “I wanted to annotate it just so you can also read my reactions and interpretations as you reread it.” Your mouth parts open at his words, clearly in awe of the action.

The pages are littered with underlines and circles, highlighting passages and quotes that seem to resonate with Eric. On the margins, you notice notes that are simple one-liners and others that are long enough to fill up the pages’ spaces.

“I–I don’t,” you look up to the boy in front of you. With his smile still plastered on his face, you do everything in you to find the right words to say. Yet, it’s impossible—this is the first time someone has done this for you.

He chuckles at your lack of words and says, “I would love to stay and hear how much you enjoy this, but I unfortunately have a class to get to all the way in the Culinary Arts building.” He lets his hand rest on your shoulder, squeezing it as if it’s his way to snap you out of your trance.

But the thing is you are not in any way out of touch with reality. Not only did he give you an annotated copy of your favorite book but he waited until your last class in a building that is all the way on the opposite side of where he needs to be. And at this moment you knew you were doomed—that this budding infatuation is turning into something more.

“I’ll see you next week in class, okay?” He says with a smile. You can only nod, still unable to speak. “Or tomorrow, if you’d like.” And before you can question him, he quickly makes his way out of the building. You let your eyes watch his figure that continues to sprint away.

As soon as he’s gone, you look back down at the book in your hands. You flip through the pages as you still remain in shock at what he gifted you. That is until you notice a post-it note stuck on the last page. When you open it to the page, you expect it to be an index of what his annotations mean. Instead, it is a message directed towards you, and you cannot help but feel your heartstrings tug at his words.

would you be interested in going on a reading date with me?

❑ yes ❑ no </3

p.s. you can just text me your answer :) maybe we can plan something tomorrow (that is if you see it by the time i give this to you)

And you tell yourself that this is wrong—that you should not be considering his offer no matter how friendly it may be. But with how he’s been treating you, you almost hope that this isn’t just him being friendly. You want to be on the receiving end of his affection—of his love.

It seems stupid to go back on your word of refusing to entertain love. Your plans are focused on graduating summa cum laude without ever allocating space for someone to take up your time. But is it wrong that someone has you reconsidering what you originally thought? Is it a sin for you to want to experience the joys of love despite your past reluctance?

So for once, you fully understand Jo’s character—you want to achieve in your endeavors all while experiencing the joys of love. And there’s nothing wrong with having that mindset after all.

The season of autumn is your favorite; the sight of leaves falling is a sight you cannot help but enjoy watching. In the same way leaves fall from the tree to the ground, you have fallen for Eric Sohn.

CHAPTER FIVE: SONNET 18

“So, what’s your favorite scene from Pride and Prejudice?” You decide to ask Eric as you two pass through shelves filled to the brim with antique books.

He hums as he follows closely behind you. “I think it was the first time Lizzie and Mr. Darcy danced together.”

You glance at the boy behind you, humming along with his answer. “Yeah, I really like Austen’s use of the motif of dance.” You come to a halt as you stand in front of a shelf full of classics. “I mean, she uses dance to show attraction between Mr. Darcy and Lizzie without them even realizing it.” Once you turn your head to face Eric, you notice a smile on his lips.

“Yeah, they’re remarkable,” he mutters as his eyes remain on you.

Under his gaze, your knees start to get weak. You cannot help but gulp as you look back to the shelves with cheeks dusted red.

Today, you and Eric were in the middle of a date—not a reading one, but an actual date. At first, you were nervous about having lunch with him mainly because you weren’t sure what to talk about. But he found a way to lead the conversation, making sure to build an environment where you two could talk about anything and everything.

Eric decided to bring you to an antique bookstore near campus considering that you two share an affinity for reading—though you were more interested compared to him. The selection they have covers fictional classics all the way to nonfiction recipe books. It’s definitely smaller than what the library offers but bigger than another bookstore you tend to frequent.

As your eyes scan through the collection, your eyes catch onto a copy of Sense and Sensibility, another book by Jane Austen that you’ve been meaning to pick up. “Ah! I’ve been meaning to read this,” you exclaim as you pull it out. With your eyes still looking through the selection, you spot another book you’ve wanted to read for a while. “Oh, they also have Wuthering Heights!” As you grab onto the other book, you look down to admire the covers. 

While you’re entranced by all the antique books standing in front of you, Eric cannot help but chuckle at your reaction. You whip your head only to see that god-forbidden boyish grin on his face—the same one that got you hooked onto him at the first meeting. He leans his side on the bookshelf all while he stares at you.

With that, you frown as you tilt your head. “Why are you laughing?” The question that leaves your mouth is out of genuine curiosity.

“No reason,” he starts off. “You’re pretty, especially when you talk about books.”

Your eyebrows raise in shock, thrown off by the sudden compliment. Eric has never been the type to tell you such during your time knowing him but hearing him say it now has your knees weak. Suddenly, all resolve was gone and you had no idea how to respond. 

And before you know it, you say, “You’re pretty, too.”

The words come out quickly without a second thought, and only when they leave your mouth do you realize how weird you are for saying such. But you notice the way his smile gets bigger, and you cannot help but feel your cheeks warm up once more out of flusters and embarrassment.

“Are you done picking out the books you want?”

“Uh, yeah,” you start off as you glance at your books. “What are you going to get?”

He hums as he stands up straight, looking at the shelf in front of you two. “Do you have another book recommendation for me?” He looks back at you.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you hum, thinking of a book. “Maybe Jane Eyre? By Charlotte Brontë?” You’re ready to tell him the synopsis of the book, but he doesn’t spare you another second for he grabs the book.

“Okay,” he smiles as he raises the book up. “I’ll pay for your books while I’m at it.”

You immediately shake your head at his words. “Huh? No, you don’t need to.” You hold the books close to your chest. “You paid for lunch already.”

He rolls his eyes before extending his free hand out to you. “It’s fine. I want to buy these books for you.” Your eyes are wide as you slowly feel yourself moving the stack of books away from your chest. “So long as we get to have that reading date, I’m happy to buy them for you.”

You would deny his offer, but you hate to admit that the idea of having someone you like buy the books you’ve been wanting to read has your heart warming. Buying you books, reading your recommendations, and annotating a book just for you—they’re the easiest ways to your heart, and he figured them out.

With that, you find yourself handing the two books to him. He smiles as he glances at the three books in his hands. And before you know it, he quickly links his arm with you as he drags you to the cashier. You don’t know how you got lucky to know a guy like him. 

CHAPTER SIX: SO TIRED BLUES

Usually, the hours of the night are the ones you find most comfort in. It’s the illusion of being away from the hours that demanded you to interact with others. You love spending your time alone doing whatever, whether it may be your own hobbies or the coursework you need to accomplish. This time of day had you in a state of tranquility, at most, for you were comforted with the idea that nothing can disturb you.

But for once, you weren’t calm during these hours. As you stare at your shared document that barely had any input from your groupmates, you feel your sanity slipping away. This assessment is due two days from now—what can your groupmates offer during this time crunch?

You lean your head in your hands as your eyes rest on your keyboard. As you let out a groan, you cannot help but grip your hair out of frustration. 

“What’s wrong?”

As you look at your friend who sits beside you, you cannot help but pout. “Eric, I can’t do this.”

Despite these hours being reserved for your alone time, you chose to spend these with him. The date was a success—you two were practically inseparable at this point. But you two were still going on dates without any expectation, still exploring whatever you two truly felt towards each other.

To be fair, you were still hesitant about jumping into a relationship with him. You still weren’t sure how possible it was for you to handle your studies along with being in a relationship. And you hate to admit it but you’re terrified—what if the love you read about is nothing like what you’ll experience with Eric?

So for now, you’ll only allow yourself to enjoy what you have now. It is only when the universe forces you to confront these sentiments that you’ll figure out the answer.

He crosses his arm as he leans back in the booth you two sat on. “You want to tell me about it?” And for a moment, you consider not doing such. You didn’t want to waste both yours and Eric’s time complaining about shitty and unresponsive groupmates.

But he doesn’t give you a moment to indulge any further in those worries, for he says, “We have enough time for you to talk about it.” He shows you a smile, one that is enough to bring you comfort. “Let me become someone you can lean on.”

And with that, you find yourself spilling out your frustrations. “I’ve just been so stressed, you know? My group mates are so shit, I’m not sure how good of an output we’ll be able to submit on time,” you start off. “I’ve been reminding them nonstop to do their work, and they just keep ignoring me. And it doesn’t help that my professor doesn’t give a fuck.”

Eric cannot help but let out a hiss of annoyance at your situation. “That’s terrible.”

“I know, right? And this assessment is at least 30% of my grade. How am I going to get an A in this class if my groupmates refuse to help?” You cannot help but groan as you lean back.

As you stare up at the ceiling, you tongue the inside of your cheek as you ponder over the situation you’re in. And you’re not sure what takes over you when you share your next set of thoughts. “I just–I want to achieve so many things, but it’s so hard when you’re not supported.”

Despite your eyes staring up at the ceiling, you can feel Eric’s gaze on you as you reveal a part you’ve never shared with him. So you let out a sigh before saying, “I know I talk so much about wanting to ace all my subjects and graduate with flying colors, but some days it’s hard to keep up with that type of mentality.” You let your eyes close for a moment. “It’s hard to aspire for so many things when you don’t have someone to fall back on.”

Although you have the passion to achieve the different goals you set for yourself, it becomes impossible to keep that fire going on most days. Sure, you had friends from your course and extracurriculars, but they were never ones you could find yourself going to easily. In most instances, you would be by yourself as you were scared to insert yourself into people’s circles.

With that lack of a support system, it became difficult to attain your goal. Although you try your hardest to keep your mind set on the prize, you cannot deny that you find yourself slipping into burnout in most instances.

“I feel like I’m teetering on the edge of burnout, you know? And I know most people would say to take a break or to indulge in a hobby, but,” you look at the boy beside you whose face is full of concern. “I’m exhausted from reading.”

It’s something you didn’t like to admit out loud. Eric knew you as the person who would read at any hour if they could—the one who wishes they could consume books even while asleep. So it hurts to say that you were growing tired of the hobby—the one thing that provided you escapism.

You let out a bitter chuckle as your tired eyes drifted away from him, staring off into the distance. “It gets hard to read when all you do in a course is read. It requires so much energy, and most days I just don’t have that.” As you say those words, you let out a sigh. “And even when I forced myself to read, whether it would be for my own pleasure or a requirement for school, I could never digest the passages.”

Eric hums at your reveal. And when he reaches out for your hand, it feels as if all your worries are lifted off your shoulders. “Is there any way that I can help?”

You cannot help but chuckle as your eyes rest back on him. With his worried expression, you only show him a small smile. “No,” you shake your head. “But it’s fine. I’m glad that someone listened to me.”

It’s not like you were aiming to have your problems solved by him. If anything, you realize how much weight was lifted off of you after admitting these to a friend.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I’m sorry I can’t do much to help you, especially with your group work.”

You can only hum as you take a deep breath. “Yeah. I just need to take over their parts and remove their names, I guess.” As you say that, Eric cannot help but nod along with a chuckle leaving his mouth.

You’re about to get back to the work you were dreading until he asks you something. “Hey, I don’t know how much this would help, but maybe I can read you some passages of where I am in The Awakening if you’d like.” Your eyes widen at his suggestion. “I’m sure you’re way ahead of me but this could be a refresher, you know? While you take a break, I can be your audiobook.”

And you cannot hold back the smile that shows on your lips. Somehow, Eric is always looking out for you, whether it be through keeping your love for literature going or making sure you are well-rested on most occasions.

With that, you find yourself leaning your head on his shoulder. As you let your eyes close, you mutter, “Yes, please.”

He chuckles at the way you seem to melt on his shoulder. And just like that, he starts to recite the words of Chopin.

As his voice fills your ears, you’re reminded of the first time you first met Eric. Something about his voice is enough to ease your worries—to bring you into a state of tranquility. And somehow, he became the late hours of the day for you—you’ve managed to find peace through his presence for all he did is support you. 

CHAPTER SEVEN: HOW DO I LOVE THEE? LET ME COUNT THE WAYS

It seems like the season of fall is about to end. It’s getting colder than usual and you cannot help but wear more layers than you typically would during autumn. Although winter is about to come, however, you were seated on a picnic blanket with your back leaning against a tree trunk. And on your lap is where Eric’s head lays as he continues to read Jane Eyre.

While you were trying to read your copy of Wuthering Heights, you couldn’t help but glance at Eric every once in a while. After going on multiple dates with him throughout the semester, you weren’t sure exactly where you two were in your relationship. And you know you should take the initiative to ask, but you didn’t want to say the wrong words.

“Eric,” you call out his name as your voice quivers. He looks away from his book to stare right back at you. As he hums in curiosity, you cannot help but bite the inside of your cheek. “I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Why did you sit beside me?” You notice his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “During the first meeting, I mean. Why did you choose to sit beside me when there were other vacant spots?” As you say those words, you spot how his mouth parts open in realization. However, it shifts into a smug grin.

“Cause I thought you were cute.” His reply has your eyes widening in shock. You knew Eric tends to be straightforward, but you weren’t expecting that to be his answer. You were sure that your cheeks were warm at his reasoning.

He then sits up, now face-to-face with you. “Well, that’s what I thought at first. But I got to know you more through the times we studied together, you know?” With his eyes staring intently back at yours, you can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“I mean, the first time I got to know you, you were talking about how you wouldn’t entertain the idea of romance, so I couldn’t help but become interested in you.” His hand reaches out for yours that rests on your lap. “And throughout our time together, I learned about all your hopes and dreams and your love for literature.”

You notice the way he takes a deep breath in as his eyes close momentarily. “I couldn’t help but like you,” he admits. As soon as he opens his eyes, he is met by yours that are wide as they stare back at him.

“I’m sure it wasn’t a secret with how we were going on dates, but I thought I should vocalize it now,” he starts off as he looks down at your interlocked hands. “I was starting to wish that these dates would give you enough of a reason to reconsider what you first thought—that maybe I could become a reason for you to reconsider after all.”

But as soon as he looks back at you, you feel your heartstrings tug as he draws circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. And the next thing he says is enough to warm your heart. “But I would never push you into a relationship with me. I know you care about your studies, and you worry too much about your grades. Sometimes, I wish I could tell you to take it easy.” He cannot help but giggle as he says those words, causing you to laugh along with him.

“But I hope you know that I’ll be here to support you, whether as a friend or as your boyfriend if you’ll have me.”

And you realize that you’ve been wrong all this time. You’ve fallen under this idea that the road to success means to get rid of all distractions—that love is nothing but a hindrance to the path you want to take. But it’s not that you can only have one or the other—you could choose to have both if you made the effort to do so.

In your time knowing Eric Sohn, you learned the joys of love even if you weren’t signing up for such joys came in the form of him. To you, he is what the poets describe as love embodied. From the first time you two worked together all the way to midterm season until your breakdown, you realize that he is the support you were seeking out all this time. And so you wonder to yourself how lucky you can be to receive something you weren’t seeking but still desperately craved.

So you let yourself lean forward, your face inching closer to his. His breath hitches at your action. As your eyes flicker down to his lips for a second, you cannot help but hear your heartbeat in your ears. Your eyes meet his, and you notice the way he holds his breath. So you cannot help but let yourself smile for a moment.

And before he knows it, your lips crash into his. Your hand reaches out to the side of his face while your arm wraps around the back of his neck, holding him close. His hand holds onto your waist, drawing shapes on it with his thumb.

As your noses bump against each other, Eric cannot help but giggle in the middle of the kiss. You two part away as you continue to look at each other. “So, will you let me be yours?” And his question is enough to pull on your heartstrings.

It’s the phrasing that gets to you—his choice of words to let him be yours versus you being his is what has you realizing just how much he likes you. It’s this whole idea that you didn’t have to surrender anything to him for he is willing to build around you.

But the reality is you would do the same for him—you’re willing to make space for him to take up in your life the same way he already has done for you.

And so you say, “You can be mine if you let me be yours.”

The boyish grin you first found yourself falling in love with appears on his face. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You wish you could tell your past self that nothing goes according to plan. What you may have first thought is not what may push through in the end. While you were never signing up to find love in your years in university, the universe decided to give you a reason to reconsider. And now you know that you can have both—that you can achieve your aspirations while still being in love. All it took was time, effort, support, and a boy named Eric Sohn to have you believe that.

if you enjoyed reading this, consider reblogging and leaving some feedback!

[velvette-creations]

In a vision or in none

House of the Dragon: Helaena + fem!reader (platonic) 

Rating: Teen 

WC: 1.5 k 

Prompt: Art Therapy for @sweetspicybingo (Hurt/Comfort Bingo Collection)

Warnings: Mentions of the death, angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: You seek to assist your queen when she becomes burdened with her visions

The chalk leaves a powdery residue on Helaena’s fingertips as she silently moves through her chambers, caught in an invisible dance. Jaehaera sits beside you on the floor, both of you watching in awe as the queen brings the images only she can see in her mind to life. The wolf-headed figure, a source of unexplained fear, sends a chill down your spine. Helaena reaches for a piece of yellow-hued chalk and begins to sketch the shape of a dragon’s egg on the wall, a testament to her unique ability. One that many seem to ignore entirely.

“An egg!” Jaehaera squeaks, pointing at the image before giggling.

“Very good, princess,” you smile, smoothing a hand down her silvery hair. Today, she wears it braided neatly down her back, no longer wearing the style she oft shared with her twin, Jaehaerys. She was always such a shy young girl, seemingly trapped in her own mind, much like her mother. It breaks your heart to watch how they’ve adjusted to Jaehaerys’s death, but the ghost of the boy still looms in the castle—a tragedy to take one so young. You go to bed many nights with guilt gnawing in your stomach for trading the night shift with another maid, perhaps if you had been there…though there is no use pondering such thoughts. What’s done is done.

She trades the yellow chalk for a green one, creating a second egg, then makes a third of reddish hue before creating flames to surround them. The chalk falls from her hand, clattering to the floor as she steps away from the wall before slowly rocking back and forth on her feet.

“Ziry kivio dārilaros issa, se zȳhon suvio perzō vāedar issa. (He is the prince that was promised, and his is the song of ice and fire),” she murmurs, her voice dropping an octave, speaking as if caught in a trance. The words roll off her tongue expertly, and you realize this is the first time you’ve heard her speak in the ancient Valyrian tongue.

She steps back over to the wall and creates the form of a naked woman being consumed by flames. Your eyes widen, and you glance down at Jaehaera, whose attention is now occupied by a wooden toy. You did not wish to interrupt the queen, so you swallow down your inquiry. You can ask at a later time. Septa Alyane comes to collect the small girl for her lessons.

“Mama, Mama!” Jaehaera smiles, scurrying over to hug her mother’s legs before being taken away.

Helaena reaches her hand down, letting it rest gently on her daughter’s head before the small girl peels away from her. Helaena hums as she places the chalk down, walking over to the basin to clean her hands before dropping to her knees in front of the tiny wooden cages that house her crickets.

“Your Grace, may I ask what you said earlier?” you ask softly as you watch the insect crawl onto her finger.

“I do not always know what they mean. I only heard it in my head and felt compelled to utter them out loud,” she answers softly, her eyes flickering up to meet your gaze before quickly adverting them.

“Oh, I see,” you reply, looking down at the needlepoint in your hands.

“I wish I knew how to explain them better,” she admits.

“It seems a heavy burden to be cursed with a sight you cannot understand,” you say sympathetically.

“I suppose we all have our burdens.”

“There was a dreamer in your familiar line….Daenys, I believe. She is the one who saved the Targaryens from the Doom. Mayhaps your father’s books might hold some answers for you,” you suggest.

“Aegon had them removed.”

“Which means they must be somewhere. They did not just disappear,” you smile.

She returns the soft gesture before placing the chirping cricket back in the cage. “Would you help me…to find them?”

“I would like that very much, Your Grace.”

~~

The days proceed as thus: waking in the morning and breaking your fast before readying Queen Helaena and Princess Jaehaera for the day with the assistance of other handmaidens, playing the small princess on the floor until it is time for her lessons. Helaena marks her visions on the walls, and the afternoon is spent pouring over the histories in the library in the hope of answers. When Helaena reaches a certain level of frustration, moving her jaw and clenching her fists, you indicate that it’s time for a break and spend time walking through the gardens with her. It brings her peace as she points at the crawling bugs, informing you of their names and purposes.

“We all have a purpose in this world,” she hums.

“I suppose you are correct in that manner, Your Grace,” you smile.

“I fear I may never find answers to my visions,” she admits as an eight-legged spider crawls across her splayed palm.

“Do not give up hope just yet, Your Grace,” you encourage, though you fear much had been lost in the Doom and answers may never be found.

~~

You find her one morning, still in her night shift, hugging her knees to her chest as she rocks back and forth. Jaehaera peers out through the curtain surrounding her bed, purple eyes wide and worried as she watches her mother.

“It is alright, princess. Come to me,” you coo, opening your arms to the young girl. She hurries into them, and you hug her close, rubbing her back before placing her in another handmaiden’s arms. “Tend to her, and I will see to the queen. Please make sure no one disturbs us.”

She nods her understanding before leaving with Jaehaera. You sink to your knees behind Helaena, placing your hands on her shoulders. She digs the heels of her hands against her eyes.

“Make them stop, make them stop,” she wails, and it becomes clear she is overburdened with these visions she cannot figure out. You are unsure if they have grown more intense or if she has simply hit her limit with them.

“Shhh, take a deep breath,” you whisper.

She gulps for her air as she lifts her head, cheeks sticky with tears. You gently smooth your fingers through her mussy hair, tugging it away from her face. “I don’t want them anymore!” Her voice warbles through the air, and your heart breaks. Why have the Gods cursed her so? Why bestow a gift upon her that she can not comprehend? It seems unusually cruel, and you're reminded these are the same Gods who claimed the lives of two young princes. She clings to you, pressing her face into your chest. In the moment, she reminds you of a distraught child turning to their mother for comfort.

You hold her silently in your arms, stroking her hair and hoping you are providing her some relief. Her ragged breathing slows, and she glances up at you. “I am…better now.”

You give her a half smile. “Are you? You needn’t lie to me, Your Grace.”

Her lower lip wobbles. “I want them out of my head.”

You think momentarily, tucking a strand of silver hair behind her ear. “I may have an idea, Your Grace.”

“What is it?” Her voice is soft and curious.

“Come, you must stand with me,” you smile, helping her to stand before walking over to her desk and taking a piece of chalk into your hand before placing it in hers. She gives you a curious look, head tilting to the side. “Instead of drawing what you see in your head, draw what you wish to see. Not what plagues you, but what inspires you or what you wish to come true.”

Helaena moves over to a blank space before lifting her quivering hand. She begins to create, moving with dedication instead of a phantom force controlling her. You recognize the silhouette of Dreamfyre with Helaena and two other figures perched on her back.

“Who is with you?” you inquire.

“You and Jaehaera,” she smiles, turning to face you. Her cheeks are rosy, “We are flying across Blackwater Bay!” There is joy in her voice, and she turns to continue her drawing—a picnic in the Kingswood, the three of you holding hands while walking along the beaches of Dragonstone and climbing the Dragonmont in search of dragon eggs.

“Lovely ideas, Your Grace, and I know of one we can make come true.”

~~

The day proceeds as thus: waking in the morning and breaking your fast before readying Queen Helaena and Princess Jaehaera for the day before making way to the dragonpit with intertwined hands. The three of you easily fit on the large blue and silver dragon, with you behind Helaena and Jaehaera in front of her. The wind whips your cheeks, and laughter peels through the air. Jaehaera picks wildflowers while Helaena lays her head on your lap while you feed her fresh raspberries. She has come alive again and is no longer chained to her visions for now. You hold on to hope that this peace will last.

“You have set me free,” she smiles, her graceful voice carrying in the warm breeze.

[onepiece-polls]

One Piece Shipping War - Round 2 Side C

Lusan art by @supernaturallyginger. Check out the original post here!

Propaganda under the cut.

Propaganda for Sanji x Luffy:

I don't think anyone is gonna bother denying the fact that WCI is literally just the plot of an otome isekai shoujo manga/manhwa. MC (main character) is treated like trash by family except for the 1 dead mom and 1 nice sympathetic supporter that can't do much of anything to help. MC escapes only to find themselves in an even worse situation somewhat of their own making, only to be swept off their feet by the ML (male lead) and saved, full damsel in distress style. Dramatic love confessions, crying in the rain, betrayal from an arranged marriage, it has it all.

Dude Luffy loves Sanji so so much like WCI is the best example and like you don't even really need to see the love as romantic if that bugs you but dudes. The first words out of the Luffys Shadow Possessed Oars was yelling for Sanji. He just loves Sanji so much and Sanji loves him too

The WCI arc in itself is mega SanLu propaganda. Luffy invaded an emperor’s territory, completely crashed a wedding, went up against Sanji’s evil science family, and got nearly beat to death by Sanji himself all in order to get Sanji back. Sanji offered his life to Kuma at thriller bark so Kuma wouldn’t kill Luffy. He pushed himself for 2 years all in order to get stronger FOR Luffy. Sanji feels sorry when he isn’t useful, the whole reason why he used the raid suit those few times was because he was thinking about getting stronger for Luffy, but realized that he didn’t want to become an emotionless monster like his family. Sanji broke down in tears at WCI when he tried to get Luffy to go away by fighting him. And then broke down in tears again when he ran back to Luffy and told him he wanted to go back home to the Sunny. No matter what Sanji cooks, Luffy always likes it and is proud to have him in his crew. Sanji is also one of Luffy’s “wings”, as stated by Robin! They’re both just so sweet and clearly care very deeply about each other.

Luffy saving Sanji on whole cake island got to me

[Insert everything that happens between them during WCI] how could I see luffy yelling about how he won't eat anything and will starve- LUFFY OF ALL PEOPLE- unless Sanji comes back and not ship them at LEAST a little. "Without you I can't become the pirate king" absolutely devastating cinema. Then Sanji laying out everything, in tears, and Luffy accepting it all and just saying, "well that's who you are" poetic. Final wci thing: luffy hearing judges bs about sanji and going "whyd he start listing all your good point" true love. This seems one sided but Sanji is also just as bad. "Which version of me do you prefer" anyone? They care SO MUCH about each other. Also Luffy loves to eat, Sanji loves to feed people, they're meant to be.

*gestures at the entirety of WCI* I mean that’s Love, they are Ride or Die, Luffy cannot become the pirate king without Sanji, whether that means physically because he needs Sanji’s support or just because being the pirate king means Luffy has everything he wants and what he wants is Sanji or both. And Sanji loves him just as much back! He’s his sun he’s his world…Luffy jump and Sanji’s too busy skywalking to bother asking how high. I just love them sm

Oda himself wrote the propaganda for this, Whole Cake Island just cemented lusan as canon. "I can't become Pirate King without you!" <- that's love baby

Propaganda for Sanji x Usopp:

PLEASE they are so great for the needs love/gives love dynamic because it goes both ways.

My fav somewhat rare pair. I specifically love on skypiea when Sanji sacrifices himself to save Usopp from Enel. (And of course the scene when they wake up from their injuries holding hands!!!!)

It is simply the best Sanji ship I’m afraid

Consider: they cute

[idolomantises]

Hello there! It's great to see your askbox open again because I cannot stress enough how much I adore your art style and storytelling.

I've got two questions, if that's alright.

1: How do you keep a consistent upload schedule of your comics? As someone working on a series myself, it's hella difficult due to real life stuff and trying to find the time to actually sit down and start illustrating and writing stuff.

And 2. Will we ever see The Seven Deadly Sins in MnG? I remember your Asmodeus design which was absolutely brilliant looking and am curious to know if you're gonna end up doing more with that really cool idea!

As always, keep up the great work, seeing your comics and art in my notifications is always a treat. Have a great night!

I actually don't want to explain this because my work schedule is far from healthy, and I'm only able to produce so much art thanks to my incredibly talented assistants. And even still, I don't have much free time! I'll just say, take a hiatus and start developing back ups ahead of time.

Yes absolutely, I actually planned to introduce Asmodeous WAY earlier, hence dropping her (she's female now) design so soon but decided to hold back, and fine tune her a bit more (she's actually getting and outfit update because I dont really like what she wears). I like the idea of portraying the deadly sins as Gods to these demons, so you very rarely see them and are only mentioned in passing. I prefer showing the demon descendants because it allows me to humanize them more while representing their sin. i dont want to portray the deadly sins as irredeemably evil (they'll still be. awful lmao trust me, none of these sins are good people), but I want to flesh them out a bit, without putting too much focus on them. so it'll be fun to see how people react.

[breakfastteatime]

Today's Survivor request is 'Echo' for @animatedjen

Master Cordova joins Cal in the stacks of holobooks, the elder Jedi radiating such a sense of peace and belonging Cal can’t decide if he wants to ask how he does it or run away and hide in shame.

He takes the secret third option and simply says, “Hi.”

“Hello, my friend,” Master Cordova says. “I take it you are finding plenty to occupy your mind.”

BD laughs louder than Cal, and he dodges Cal’s half-hearted swat, leaping onto Master Cordova’s shoulders for cover. “Plenty, thank you,” Cal says.

BD does a jig and tells Master Cordova Cal wouldn’t know how to not occupy his mind even if his life depended on it.

“Well then, perhaps I can pick your mind for a while.”

“Sure, although I’m not sure there’s much I can tell you that you don’t already know. Unless it’s about Venator deconstruction. There’s a good chance I know more about that than most people.”

“If it’s alright with you, I wonder if I might make use of your psychometry.” Master Cordova holds up his hands. “Please, do tell me if I am stepping out of line. You owe me nothing, and I do not wish for you to feel like a performing bogling.”

Hearing Cal being compared to a bogling is apparently the funniest thing BD has ever heard, and he cackles so much he almost falls from his perch. Cal shakes his head, promises Master Cordova it’s fine, and follows him to a small chamber off to the side of the main archive. Inside, a small collection of artifacts awaits them. An Anchorite bows, wishes them both a good day in a melodic voice, and slips out to leave the three of them alone. Master Cordova shows him what appear to be Zeffo artifacts – Cal recognises the art style and the script. While BD scans, Cal runs his hand over them, echoes singing as they always do. Those on the surface belong to Master Cordova and shimmer with the excitement of discovery. Diving deeper, Cal reaches further into the past. There, deeper down, the original carver’s emotions. Pride at being asked to create an image of the Sage Eilram, the Life Wind guiding mind and hands to create perfection. Cal reports his findings to Master Cordova. “Sorry, nothing to say where the Zeffo went.”

Master Cordova shakes his head. “I expected nothing of the kind. Now, may I ask for one more?” This time, the artifact he reveals is distinctly Jedi in origin.

A lightsaber hilt. Its ostentatiously curved hilt and intricate carvings suggest it is a relic of a bygone age, even more bygone than the one Cal grew up in. Lightsabers were sleek, functional from what he remembers. This? This is art. Curious, Cal touches it.

She raises her weapon, a final salute to her enemy, to her Padawan, to the Force, to the Jedi Order who went to such pains to train her. The Sith are coming, and she cannot allow them to pass. Deep breath. Release your fear. The Force is your ally, you are a conduit. She ignites a brilliant blue blade and swings into battle and – 

His master is gone. Dead. Not even a body left to cremate. She took many of the Sith out with her, their bodies scattered where only her robes remained. He opens the lightsaber piece by piece and takes the crystal nestled within. Reconstructing it, he places it in its final resting place with all the other weapons of the honoured dead.

Cal opens his eyes. Master Cordova watches intently. Embarrassed to be the focus of such focused attention, Cal hands over the lightsaber hilt and shares its story. “Where did you find it?”

“In an ancient temple, one so old even my old friend Jocasta Nu knew little about it,” Master Cordova explains. “I found it in a small nook. There were many such nooks in the wall, but this was the only lightsaber that remained. Cal, the wars with the Sith are ancient. The echo remains that powerful?”

“Yes.”

Master Cordova seems delighted. “What a wonder it is to know that we truly do become part of the Force, immutable within it.”

“I’m sorry you can’t perceive it the way I can,” Cal says.

“Oh, my friend, there is no need to apologise! Just hearing about these few things is enough for me.”

A subtle, no, evil laugh emanates from a certain droid. Master Cordova could ask Cal to find more echoes in the room. In fact, Cal would love to do so, wouldn’t you, Cal?

Cal shrugs. “I don’t mind.”

Master Cordova lights up.

It’s Cere who comes to rescue Cal hours later. She suggests they all go for lunch, and subtly pulls Cal aside while Master Cordova and BD go on ahead. “Here.” She slips a pair of pills into his hand. “You don’t have a migraine, do you?”

He takes the pills, swallowing them dry. “Nah, just a headache,” he says honestly. “Takes a lot more these days to trigger anything more serious.”

She stares at him. He shrugs. “It’s been a while, Cere.”

“Too long,” she says, her hand squeezing his.

[cartoonguy08]

Guys I absolutely love any type of SpyDad angst.

I can’t tell which one’s my favorite though. For me, I’m gonna be so honest I physically CANNOT draw spy being a horrible dad, yes, I can draw him being a dick, but not a complete horrible person.

Spy to me and how I portray him (because I wanna draw them in like, maybe an even more cartoony way than they already are, as you can tell from my art style) I try to make him kinda more serious than the others, still very goofy and cartoony, maybe a little sassy, and when I draw him with Scout I want him to feel empathy, I want him to feel somewhat guilty every time he’s with him, or when he is with his all he picture is his son. That is his son. And he can’t get over that, that will always be with him and remember that: I left this boy. I left this boy when he needed me most. And for that he like, will try and become more fatherly or just a father figure towards him (even though Scout get’s a little upset at it. Like, he doesn’t like being treated like a child).

I’m really bad at explaining it, but how I like to portray SpyDad is just him feeling genuinely guilty. He loves him, he loves him deep down, he just never wants to say the words themselves, or reveal that vulnerability to others. And he especially doesn’t wanna have to know the response of Scout and how he feels about it. He keeps it hidden, but in general, he is very proud of him. Not only for holding his own all the time but for being so strong during the times they face, the war, the battles, everything. He may never say it, but he is proud. Very, proud of Scout. (And he can’t help but look at him, and just see him as his kid. Mushy stuff, mushy stuff ik)

But god, I absolutely LOVE these other ways Spy is portrayed as a father and how he feels after this time.

- Spy tries to connect with Scout but realizes the entire team is a completely better father figure than he will ever be, and that eats at him alive? YES, LET THE MAN SUFFER YEEES!!

- Spy doesn’t even try to connect with Scout because the team is taking care of him already, and even when Scout wants to connect with him Spy shoos him away? WHAT AN ASSHOLE BUT YES IM EATING IT UP!!

- Spy’s guilt destroys him slowly because after all this time Scout doesn’t even care that he’s his father, and instead shrugs it off as just another problem? BRO, BRO ABSOLUTELY PERFECT

Every one of these, and there’s PLENTY more, but these three made me think about how much k want to see this asshole suffer from being a deadbeat father who decided to leave, flea. Never getting to give the love Scout wanted from a father figure. Yeah he had his mother, but what if he just wanted his dad? What was he supposed to do? Scout suffered from Spy’s absence, so now Spy suffers the consequences. I. Eat. This. Up. Never in my life would I be so invested in something as much as this but I’m DEEP, my mind thinks about them 24/7. This is insane. I’m going insane.

Spy. Spy seriously dude, wtf are you doing?

Don’t be like spy. We must be better than spy. Because he is an awful father.

(If spy isn’t gonna better himself I’ll make him, literally)

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 10/29/2024

new boot goofin. also a great book for the cowboyblogger crew and TWO cat photos

listening

afterimage by JUSTICE and Rimon was on a spotify autogenerated dance playlist and it is So soothing to my brain. sometimes described as heavy metal disco, it itches the same brain scratch as daft punk's interstella 5555. comforting and familiar road trip music where the road trips are in spaceships with a sort of clunky engine thrumming away in the background. you know that extremely early ass o clock in the morning road trip feel where it's very pale and a little misty out and you're only sort of awake? i feel like this is a very different kind of road trip music animal than than late-night road trip music. it's pulling you out the door. it's for beginnings, not for very tired almost-ends.

-

reading

thank you mackie. very reading heavy week. im tryign to redirect myself into library books instead of election doomscrolling and im trying to read more physical books bc i have a tremendous pile of shit i genuinely do want to read and almost none of it is on my phone. first we'll talk about Navigational Entanglements by Aliette de Bodard, from randomly perusing the library stacks. really really really fucking loved this one.

Award-winning author of The Red Scholar’s Wake Aliette de Bodard comes for your heart with a compelling tale of love, duty, and found-family in an exciting new space opera that brings xianxia-style martial arts to the stars. Jockeying navigator clans guide spaceships through the Hollows: an area of space populated by the mysterious but deadly creatures known as Tanglers. When a Tangler escapes the Hollows for the first time in living memory, each clan must send a representative to help capture it—but the mission may be doomed and the hearts of two clan juniors may be in danger too.

first off: this isn't fucking found family. this is a group of coworkers. tor dot com loves to slap found family on anything gay.

politics is about control and inter-group dynamic politics are also about control. and grappling for control in your life when you grow up in a Young Leadership program. i really liked this, one of the least annoying examples of someone getting overstimulated and needing to lie down in a dark quiet room and how hanging out with some people does not impair rest and hanging out with some people is extremely extremely draining. the love interest is what if lee van cleef was a young vietnamese woman in the far future who can navigate faster than light travel.

very snappy little 160-pg novella that does not overstay its welcome. packs a genuinely surprising amount of worldbuilding and character work into its pages: i have a lot of trouble with ensemble casts post-Covid and keeping everyone straight (especially in hard copy form where I can’t easily search a book) but everyone is a fully formed person here and i had no trouble keeping everyone straight in my head. i will be asking my siblings to acquire a physical copy for me for christmas. i love a fucked up political mystery with spacewalks and space monsters.

the lead, nhi, reminded me a lot of friends at the table's brnine, a self-sacrificing perfectionist fish. hope that's useful information to all three of you i have bullied into listening to fatt

The Shabti by Megaera C. Lorenz. this finally came off my holds, hat tip to i think someone else's tuesdaypost? cannot immediately locate it. holler if it was you.

Can you flimflam a ghost? It’s 1934. Former medium Dashiel Quicke travels the country debunking spiritualism and false mediums while struggling to stay ahead of his ex-business partner and lover who wants him back at any cost. During a demonstration at a college campus, Dashiel meets Hermann Goschalk, an Egyptologist who’s convinced that he has a genuine haunted artifact on his hands. Certain there is a rational explanation for whatever is going on with Hermann’s relics, Dashiel would rather skip town, but soon finds himself falling for Hermann. He agrees to take a look after all and learns that something is haunting Hermann’s office indeed. Faced with a real ghost Dashiel is terrified, but when the haunting takes a dangerous turn, he must use the tools of the shady trade he left behind to communicate with this otherworldly spirit before his past closes in.

this keeps getting reviewed as cozy horror, which i do not agree with bc i hate the term and believe it oxymoronic. it is a fairly straightforward romance with paranormal shit happening in the foreground. a period piece not particularly for the folx end of the fag/folx gay book spectrum-- they happen to be gay but there's a lot of other shit happening. not a spicy romance as the tiktok girlies say. it is a period book that sort of elides over the worst parts of the 30s? eg there is no on-page or overt racism or antisemitism that the characters have to Confront. one of the lead's neighbors is a black nurse trying to start a NAACP chapter, but she's so fully fleshed out and such an enjoyable character it doesn't feel like the book is looking for moral points from modern readers. i also liked the general slow-build of the book and their relationship — i have no complaints about the intensity or pace of their relationship.

the one ding i have is that it is perhaps a touch too enthusiastic about period slang. it's fine when the two leads are talking to each other, especially bc their word choice is a large way they show their personality, but when there are more than two people in a scene it can grate a little for me. i do think the dialogue is generally the strong suit here, and the author particularly excels at two-person back and forths, so it’s not a frequent complaint.

i liked the contrast of the scam medium with the academic egyptologist, since many egyptologists were also scams. the scenes with the spirit are genuinely eerie, which is a very good contrast with the fairly straightforward, often sparse narration.

grudging respect for keeping a joke simmering on the back burner for four hundred pages before deploying it. this was a well-paced read i have no major complaints about.

i have to spin this book around in my brain and get a physical copy and flip back and forth and lot and make notes to myself in a separate notebook before i talk about this one here i think. same brain itch as a canticle for leibowitz.

i also read a bunch of comics but this section is already long enough goodbye

-

watching

the first episode of the currently airing penguin tv show! at my bestie's house bc she has an hbo max subscription from something, unfortunately it is an emotionally fraught very tense show and we're kind of full up on those so i will have to finish this on my own. at no point did i say to myself "whoa that's colin farrell". both the prosthetic and accent work are off the charts.

i do Not like a piece of media about the mob. i will stomach it for batman. it's really wild how the accents they've chosen for gotham and her suburbs make me so so so weirdly homesick. one of the locations is an early McMansion and my bestie and i said almost simultaneously "are we in fucking Cherry Hill???" a jersey noveau riche town infested with notable McMansions.

i am constantly chasing the high of s1 black sails where everyone is frantically scheming and falling all over them fucking selves. this gets pretty close! it's big budget prestige tv with the storytelling chops to match so far. one of my favorite comic runs is The Long Halloween, partially about the fortunes of the Maroni and Falcone crime families of Gotham. this is loosely following that, but deviates enough to surprise me, which i enjoy. there have been enough faithful adaptations of that comic run imo.

optimistic about the rest of the season! i have such low expectations for batman media that it's refreshing to get like a genuinely good pilot episode out of the franchise.

-

playing

i have Got to find a new game to play that i already own. genshin is such a good podcast game but i need Something New. surely the 576047357649857689 games across five libraries will save me.

-

making

so many things happened this week. cat neuter and constipation episode. helped take apart and put back together a children's' room. lot of running around.

crunchy! i almost left these docs at goodwill bc i don't have a super high opinion of the company or the quality of the boots. i have heard my ENTIRE life about how long-lasting they are and how people have had the same boots for years but i completely shredded a pair during eight months in 2019. like the soles were worn almost completely smooth to the point they were a slipping hazard, half the eyelets were broken, and the leather was genuinely disintegrating. that was one of the busiest and most active periods of my life (classes at other campuses both semesters, a summer in new hampshire, the beginning of the makerspace) but i did expect them to hold up a little better or a little longer. they only got to experience about a month and a half of salt at the beginning and were regularly cleaned. yes i did buy them straight from the company.

anyway. these extremely ugly docs industrials had almost all their tread and magically fit me. like the rest of me, my feet are large and wide and difficult to fit. they are by Far the ugliest shoes i have ever owned. however. they will be the boots i will wear for when i need to be okay about potentially destroying my footwear.

hit em with some saddle soap and polished the toes, i seem to be flat out of leather conditioner so i was only able to hit the heels and one tongue. the laces are in the warsh.

they're real leather and were twelve dollars and miraculously fit me. you know that quote about americans being temporarily embarrassed millionaires? i still, in many ways, think of myself as a temporarily embarrassed abled person. i am slowly giving up on the idea of another remote job, bc they seem to all be fake, and going harder on city and county jobs. while i would rather wear my beloved CAT steel toes with the nice padded cuffs any day of the week, maybe these will be good for tromping around somewhere inspecting something. would Love a weights and measures inspection job if their office would return my polite messages.

also ruby goes home tonight! goodbye ruby!

[h-didanart]

Don’t mind me, just uh, felt like writing in a fancy way I guess? Idk, I kinda just made this so yeah :P

———

“I would die for you” thinks the former killer, the little fox that’s now their little sibling yelling over some game he lost.

The cub is fierce but not yet trained in the ways of the world, he’d be ripped to shreds were he left alone. They have to make sure he won’t be thrown to the wolves, won’t spend days in hunger or long for comfort over the freezing nights, won’t run to the arms of a monster, that he won’t follow in their path.

He’s their brother, whom they may not have met before but will love as if they did, they’ll watch over him and strike any menace down, they’ll be the best older brother there ever was.

“I would kill with you” say the runaways, the smarter of their group not amused despite the compliment.

Realistically in a fight it would not be able to do much, having such injuries that limit its movement, not like it’d like to join in, death being that thing that’s better away than up close. They may annoy it by poking fun at its work, or its art, or its style, yet a better bud they couldn’t have, it understands the snide remarks, the accusations and infantilization, of others deeming you the crazy one, telling you your life is a lie.

It’s their friend, their sole source of support during all these years, and they’ll help complete its research as silly to them as it seems, just as they’ll come back at the end of the day and annoy it to no end.

“I will die with you” grumbles the warrior, the actor’s core still beating in spite of their broken chassis.

Such delicate machinery, a survivor of those ashen remains, it must be careful if it doesn’t want to lose its leg again. It’s that care he has such trust on, even through their first impressions, he knows it does what it must, they both do what they can, never exactly at peace in the world lest within the other’s arms.

They are his friend, the one who brought him back alive, who may not understand his way of feeling but will still be there to pat his back, he’ll do his best to keep it alive, and if he can’t then better to stick together, neither has anyone else as it stands.

“I will die for you” feel the twins at once, firmly entwined amongst their family.

It was a miracle they had stuck together, original three as compatible as identical magnets, the now five or six as united as a fly in a deadly glue trap. To have heard as life passed while they remained frozen had been a sweet agony, once the stasis traded with separation a new horror dawning, yet they managed to all hold together through the lies and manipulations and disappearances and pains.

They are their family just as much as they are to each other, they’ll keep them safe, they’ll keep them happy, to show they too can change and to truly join the whole family.

“I will kill for you” the demon tells the virus, holding her arm as they bounce towards the unknowing victims.

Calling themselves their Father and taking them in, they hadn’t expected to get much out of this, a pleasant surprise it was when they did. The only person who gets it he was, having been the core program they were based off, the insatiable hunger, an itchy need, what they had to do to live, not even the Morning Star could look so deeply.

She is their Father, not a creator or whatnot, the one who teaches them efficiency, cares about the means more than the results, they‘ll stand by him as long as they live, one does not just betray their kin.

“I will live with you” the vampire promises, both sleep deprived bots staring at the newest project, wondering how it could work.

With a face such as that not much good was expected, yet he pulled through time and time again, reliable, though never to himself it seems. He had helped through the horrors, helped through the numbness, they had learnt of his life and looked up for the stoicism, they make sure he won’t push his limits, they cannot have him throwing himself around all the time.

They may never say it but he is their brother, the one they wished they could’ve had since day one, and it’s such a dumb promise but they can’t help but make it, they’ll live alongside him, live for their talks, live like they owe him to, because they do, they owe him their lives, so they’ll live to make him proud.

[nerdycanible1]

Am back! :D

Omg guys! Almost forgot I had this ((joking)) but nah seriously! It had been years since I've posted anything here! 💀

Anyways imma go back to my roots!! Y'all remember the days of Legend of Korra where I've only simped for Lin Beifong? 👀 But I've found a new lady, well not really but I've got a new love!!

So y'all remember (if not don't worry about it) the whole genderbent au thing I've created and it was female Tenzin and male Lin and stuff like that? Well I've got some stuff for y'all!

So first and foremost, this is Tenna. She is genderbent Tenzin (female Tenzin). She is literally so hot and I cannot stop drawing her! Currently working on the backstory and this will be nothing like tLoK, actually it will in some places but yes! A lot will be changed!

But look at her! She's gorgeous! 🥺 Also I just wanted to show y'all my improvement of art over the years! QwQ it has improved so much and I'm so proud! Anyways I'll stop rambling and let ya get to the photo!

Tenna: 55 years old

Tenna in swimsuit enjoy 🗿

Side note: Tell me this isn't the most Tenzin expression ever xD

Anyways, my thoughts are simple. Make hot women. :D I am smooth brained and frankly I've been a simp for my genderbent Tenzin for years.

I wanted to update her concept instead of the one I've created years ago (plz forget that 💀) and frankly I love this version better. She looks kind, soft, hot, and first and foremost Tenzin-ish.

What I have for her so far:

She is 51-50 just like Tenzin in tLoK

She has one confirmed boy that I've come up with and one confirmed girl.

Their names are Jin (Jinora) and Ming (Meelo). I haven't come up with anything else for the kids as of yet.

She is pansexual. No discussion on this xD

She is currently in a relationship with Peng (Pema). But ma'am is known to wander around.

Tenna is also more in tune with her nomadic life style instead of the whole business stuff.

Tenna left RC at the ripe age of 16, leaving Ling (Lin) in the process but no hate. It was a mutual break up. Ling wanted to keep RC safe and promised Tenna that everything would still be up and running whenever she wanted to settle down.

Tenna fell in love with an air acolyte (whom I haven't decided to name as of yet) and stayed there for a year before the world called for her once more. It was a short but painful romance, one that Tenna often thinks about.

Once she was back on the road she fell in love with a non bender (Not Peng yet), got pregnant and went to RC for Air Temple Island. She stayed on the island for a few years raising her newborn son Jin.

Ling helped with all he could, being there for Tenna, taking care of her and feeding her and dealing with her grumpiness. He took care of her and once the baby was born, Ling knew he would protect the child as if he were the one to help make the baby.

Tenna couldn't have thanked Ling enough and felt horrible she was "holding him back" from finding his true love. Ling wanted to confess right then and there that he loved her but knew it wasn't the right time.

During the time of the whole pregnancy and the raising of Jin, Ling and Tenna fell into a romance. Stealing kisses, sharing deep secrets, touches that crossed the very thin line of friendship.

It wasn't until Jin started talking and walking that Tenna thought it would be a great time to start exploring the world. Jin barely being the age of 3 or 4. Ling confessed to her that he loves her and that she wished she'd stay for him but told her it was a selfish request. He instead kissed her goodbye and told her to look at the Northern Lights for her on one of her trips. Tenna never felt such sadness and sorrow but she promised to keep in touch. She watched as Ling got smaller and smaller as the boat began to leave the harbor and leave behind her very best friend and lover.

Sorry friends but this is where imma stop it before I bore you! Let me know if you want more Headcanons or if you want more art of this fine wine of a milf!

Send me asks, or ask simply in the comments or Dms about any of this au. I'm happy to reply and I'm excited to say that I'll be posting here regularly soon! And you know of course that there's gonna be more Lin Beifong art so prepare yourselves!

As usual, all art belongs to me. If reposted please credit. Thank you!

[vqrtualheartss]

CCan you do one where miles find out reader is literally obsessed with art and has a room alone for her drawings and paintings one of them being him

ᴅ☆ᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴀʏ|

9:12 pm This is my first request and I love you for it. Anyways, I'm trying to keep this one short and cute because I just realized I cannot make a story short for my life so yea lol.

The like, plot about the senior partner programme is taken from a book I read on wattpad called 'His Tesoro' by sjpwell and I heavily recommend you read it. heavily.

For fem readers, no specific race disclosed

Warnings — idk, bad grammar

In all honesty, deadass, I would've been asleep by now if not risking my hands to ink poisoning or that our teacher was picking the pairs for the annual senior partner programme. You'd basically share classes, be expected to hang out and by the end of the year write a report based on what you learnt about them. There wasn't anyone I was against being paired with but there wasn't anyone I was looking to either, all of them were the same people just different fonts, nothing interesting.

"And lastly we have Miss Valentine and Mr. Morales. Until your new schedules are emailed to you, you are expected to interchange the order of classes starting with the male's in the pair. Happy bonding"

Before I could get up, someone tilted down my phone screen, shifting my attention from it to them, the Mr. Morales— Miles. My nose slowly twitched, as I tried to fight the tug on my lips.

"Hi angel" I sighed, smiling at the nickname. Apparently my last name reminded him of Cupid and because Cupid's somewhat an angel, it makes me one

"Good morning Miles" pushing out my phone gesturing for him to hold it, I gathered my stuff preparing to head to his class. "Formal as always" he shook his head looking down at me with my bag on one shoulder, the other strap swaying freely. I shrugged at his comment, bringing out my hand to retrieve my phone, instead of handing it over, he held onto my hand, intertwining them as he examined the free-styled drawings.

"Talent much? Cool if you could put some on me?" He smiled widely, dangling my phone in his other hand as some type of persuasion. The smile grew evident in my voice, "Alright". I mean, why not, for his half of classes I didn't have to do anything in them so might as well.

"These dopee. Y'know low-key we should get matching ones sometime" . I smiled, "Maybe"

Annoyed at my frequent one word responses he turned around to face me as I slipped from underneath his arm " I hope you're not gonna be like this when I come by later."

Standing infront him with my mouth slightly agape, I questioned, my arms mirroring his crossed ones. "When you do what?"

"How else are we supposed to get to know eachother? And I'm guessing you're eager to kick me out and wrap this up" Narrowing my eyes, I pinched and rubbed my nose bridge.

There weren't many reasons why he couldn't stay over but they held alot of weight, one being my art room and two I'd probably make a fool of myself.

Looking up at him to protest, he swiftly transferred his initialized chain from his neck to mine before walking off and shouting, "Text me the directions and I'll be there" .

I dragged a hand down my face, I was going to send him them but that bitch.

knock knock, the door creaked open as a faint light faltered to the floor

"Miles? If that's you come in" "Woww, now imagine if I was a serial killer" Taking off his jacket, he continued "You would've been dead by now"

I shrugged , eyes never leaving the sketchbook propped on my right knee. He turned around, a dead expression on his face as he dragged the book from my lap "Nah, you gave your word" I most definitely did not

"Okay, fine, my attention's yours and yours only. Happy?" I gave him a tight-lipped smile as he sat on my bed, flipping through the pages "very" .

I remained a neutral expression as if my heart wasn't waiting to jump outside my chest.

Recently he's been the center of attention of my art and obviously I don't need him to see that. My heart rate calmed, his eyebrows furrowing, the pages seemingly went blank "I thought you drew more than this?" "I recently started that sketchbook,"

My expression softened, smiling internally as relief took over my body. However, my mind went as blank as the pages. Where the hell are those drawings then ?.

He hummed, moving from the bed to the office chair. He slid it over beside me before holding onto the chain with a finger of his, bringing me even closer to him.

"This makes it look like you belong to me in some way".

I copied his 'hm' in response despite my stomach flipping on end. He tugged on the chain releasing it. "I swear to god I'm going to make you talk. One way or another" leaning back into the chair manspreading, I smiled while maintaining a scowl. "Ew, you look like a man"

"Oh so now you speak?" He scoffed before continuing "Where's your bathroom" "Straight down, first door on your..." I paused a bit unsure of the direction to tell him ".. right, first door on your right"

He leaned on the door frame, crossing his arms "Don't know your directions by now?" "Get out"

Glancing at the time on my phone a few times, it took me a while to register that Miles was gone for more than 20 minutes "That's weird". Heading outside, I shuffled to the bathroom that he would've went to find it empty. I stood with my hands wrapped around my torso trying to figure his whereabouts. Shit. I went to the one place I hope he wasn't, my art room.

Approaching said room I saw the door slightly ajar, his shadow lingering on the walls. Without a plan I went inside, harshly biting down on my lip to brace myself for future embarrassment.

"You really weren't going to show me this?" I nervously laughed, eyes darting around the room inspecting for any sketches, drawings or paintings with him as the centerpiece. My eyes lingered on a drawing of Miles a little longer than I should've, he sent himself in the direction of my gaze. I shut my eyes, squeezing my fists tighter with each passing second. He took up the sketchbook situated on the desk, twirling through the recent pages before turning.

"Is this me?" His eyebrows drawing nearer as he grinned. I bit harder onto my lip before attempting to diffuse the awkwardness of the situation, even if it was just on my side. "No?"

"Looks an awful lot like me" Placing the book into its original position he folded his arms, sitting infront the desk

"I do not have the mental capacity for this" I sighed, shaking my head. A bead of blood formed on my lips.

Looking up and down my frustration filled body, he replied "Got me on your mind a lot, huh?" Laughing at his own teasing, I used the base off my hands to rub my eyes viciously, an honest attempt to push in my eyeballs.

Morphing into a ball of embarrassment, a smug expression splashed on his face. Hissing my teeth, the colours of his eyes went onyx as he stared. I returned his challenging gaze before he stood up, walking over and standing dangerously close.

Towering over my height, he smirked holding my chin between two fingers. What the fuckk. In that second I felt.. wierd, warm and fuzzy on the inside.

IDK HOW TO END THIS SO I DIDN'T.

©vqrtualheartss 2023 ©dae 2023

[akiology]

hello! i adire your writing style, it brings a smile to my face 🩷

i was wondering if i could rq a yusuke x reader one-shot? i honestly don't mind any prompt, just the fluffiest thing you can think of when it comes to the guy.

thank you, and i hope you're doing well! — 🎀

Love, Love, Love || Yusuke Kitagawa x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k Summary: Yusuke reminisces on the beginning of your relationship. Note: I'm sorry this took so long, sweetheart! I am gonna be honest with you, Yusuke is my absolute favorite so I was really happy when I got this ask! But then the perfectionist in me came out since this IS Yusuke.... I had around 3 drafts until I settled on this one... Hopefully you like it!

For the longest time, romantic love was not really a part of Yusuke’s vocabulary. There was no need for it, honestly. This does not mean he does not experience love, he absolutely does. His love for the arts, and life. He looks out to the crowd and thinks that everyone has backstory, or a page in their book that they cannot tell. He thinks that humanity, despite all their flaws and vices, are inspiring. With hope there is desire, one of the things he learned as a Phantom Thief.

Of course, not every person is ‘good’. But he can understand that with beauty comes vice. And that people are not necessarily evil, there are just those that had difficult circumstances. And then there are those who merely succumbed without trying to do any better.

Yusuke has experienced love, both for his craft and for his fellow Phantom Thieves. Whenever he looks at the Sayuri, he feels the love he has for his mother, and the love his mother had for him. When he looks out at the world, he feels empathy and understanding for their individual experiences. But whether he has experienced love for another, in the romantic sense, is something he cannot answer. 

Until now.

He looks behind his canvas, and he sees you preparing him a meal. You were currently playing your favorite music in a low volume, and slightly dancing to the beat. Your hair was in a disarray, but he did not care in the slightest. Yusuke absolutely loves and adores you. He holds his hands up, jutting out his pointer fingers and thumbs, ‘framing’ you.

You were, and still is, his favorite inspiration.

He thinks back to the first time he met you, it was a chance encounter. He was hanging by the underground walkway of the Shibuya train station, people-watching just before he got home. He was looking for inspiration, but today the gods seem to be playful and are preventing him from making the masterpiece he wishes to create.

He sighed deeply, and was about to put his sketchpad back into his bag, when he suddenly felt the weight of another person in his side and dropped his materials. He was able to balance his weight before he could fall face-first onto the earth. You, however, were not as fortunate.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he crouched down to help you up on your feet. You stood up with his help, trying to get your bearings.

"Y-yeah..." you finally answered, and Yusuke gathered his sketchpad and pencil. When he stood up again, you apologized to him.

He was about to accept your apology and tell you to be more careful next time, but when your eyes met his words got stuck in his throat.

You were breathtaking.

And he swears that if he looked into your eyes, he would get lost in it.

You seemed to take his silence the wrong way, and you started fidgeting while offering more apologies. Yusuke finally cleared his throat, "May I paint you?"

It was out of place, and Yusuke quickly explained his situation. He briefly remembers what happened with Ann, and he wished not to come off as a pervert. It seems his explanation was sufficient, and you agreed. Sadly you were busy today, so you exchanged numbers for next time.

The next time you meet each other, it was during the afternoon, on a Sunday in Inokashira Park. The sun was a little forgiving, and along with the shade of the trees it gave off a cool and peaceful vibe. The birds sang a tune, and for a moment it felt like you were in a movie as you leaned against the railings.

Yusuke, on the other hand, is stuck between getting his sketchpad from his bag or looking at you a little while longer.

When you finally turned to look at him, he was snapped out of his thoughts and decided to take out his materials.

“Um, so… how should I pose?”

Yusuke contemplated for a moment, and at that exact moment you tilted your head a bit and the sun hit your face just right. You were ethereal, as if he was looking at a painting.

“Face towards the river, but position your head to the side. Put both your hands on the railing on both sides,” Yusuke instructed, and sat on a nearby bench to get started. For a while, no words were exchanged between the two of you. The chirping of the birds, the light sway of the trees with the gust of wind, the faraway conversations, and the sound of charcoal against paper was all that could be heard. It feels oddly comforting.

You look to your side, trying to stay still as much as possible. You see Yusuke, who would glance at you every once in a while. Some stray hair has fallen over his face. You think for a second that if he weren’t the artist, he would be the one that was being drawn. He is very beautiful.

You think back on a few days ago, your first encounter. You honestly do not know why you easily agreed to being his model, perhaps because he has this air around him? Like, he is not capable of lying, or any malicious actions. It sounds a bit naive, but it feels like you could trust him, with your life even.

After holding the pose for five minutes, you start feeling restive. You did not know what to do, would he get mad if you asked for a break?

As if on cue, you hear him clearing his throat, “Let us take a break,” he says. You internally did a sigh of relief. You stretched and wiggled your fingers, then proceeded to sit beside him albeit with a little bit of space in between the both of you.

He was quiet, but not in a brooding or anti-social way. More like an observer, who is appreciating the scenery in front of him. You decided to start a conversation to get to know him more.

“So, Yusuke, was it? Which school do you attend?”

“Kosei High School,” he briefly says, then adjusted so he could slightly face you. “How about you?”

You answer, and the both of you talk for a while. He talks about how Sayuri inspired him to want to make an art piece just like it. He also talks about how he seeks to capture the sense of beauty it portrays, and how he wishes he could encapsulate how much it inspired him and in a sense, evoke the same feeling in others.

You find yourself admiring him while he speaks. His voice holds your attention, and if he were to say even the most boring things, you just might listen.

Just as you were about to say something, you felt something wet touch your cheek. And then another, and another. Yusuke looks up and grabs your wrist, “Let us take cover.”

You entered a nearby store, taking cover from the sudden rain. Yusuke felt a little disappointed at this outcome, but at least the both of you were able to find shelter right away.

“I apologize for this,” Yusuke says. You were confused. “I have been known to bring rain,” he says lightheartedly.

You smile and shake your head. “No biggie. Although this puts an early end to your drawing.”

“That’s true. May I see you again?”

You blushed. He did not mean it that way, but hearing him say that feels like you were in a teen fiction, “Sure!”

After a while, Yusuke was able to finish his drawing. He got high marks on it, and told you all about it. Even after its completion, you and Yusuke remain in touch. You would each greet each other at the start of the day and end the day with a ‘good night’ from each other. And every Sunday, you would meet up at Inokashira Park, catching up while people-watching. Almost like an unspoken tradition between the both of you.

One Sunday, you were telling Yusuke a funny story that occurred to you recently and you cannot help but feel uneasy as his eyes were trained on you. He was paying close attention, and he never looked away as you told your story. 

“Don’t look at me like that… “ You bring your hand up to your face, hoping to cover up your red-tinted cheeks.

Yusuke tilted his head a bit, “Hm? Like what?”

“I don’t know… like that,” you struggle to explain, and Yusuke’s eyes are on you again. It feels like he could see the deepest parts of you, the parts of you that you hide away, “THAT. Like how you are looking at me right now, and.. while I was telling my story… If you keep doing that, I might think I’m beautiful.”

“You are beautiful,” he answers with no hesitation.

You feel your cheeks flaring up, and you turn away to calm yourself. “Th-thank you…”

“Yusuke! Food is ready!” He was snapped out of his thoughts when he hears you calling out to him. He was back in the present time, in front of his canvas. He shakes his head, and puts back his brush on the table beside him. He stood up and stretched.

As you are preparing the table, you feel Yusuke’s weight on your back and his arms around you. “Hello darling.”

“Hi Yusuke,” you giggled.

He gives you a quick kiss on the cheeks, and another behind your ear, and another on your jawline, and finally stopping on your shoulder. “I love you,” he says with so much weight and sincerity.

“I love you too. Will you help me set the table?” 

He proceeds to grab the plates, and helps in putting the food down. When you both finish, you give Yusuke a quick kiss. He smiled, and grabbed one of your hands to place on his shoulder. He holds the other, and situated his free hand behind your back. He starts humming a tune, and leads your feet to the beat.

You chuckled, “What has gotten to you today?”

Yusuke smiled, “I simply enjoy my time with you. I am at my happiest when I am with you.” You place your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Yusuke felt like his heart was thrashing against his ribs.

“I feel the same way.”

For the longest time, romantic love was not really a part of Yusuke’s vocabulary. That is, until he met you.

[polyhexian]

hellloooo!!! i was a big fan of your fics from i think over a year ago (?) now and then my life got busy and i couldnt keep up w your newer fics :( i just wanted to say reading mh and eventually with sooo many consecutive chapters has been an absolute delight, not only is it a brilliant read with such fantastic ideas (you bet ive caught up on as much jasper lore as i can find under the tags) but youre such a consistent writer i was shocked to see the times between the chapters postings!! how do you do it? my writing style changes per MINUTE im very impressed!!!! this is so cool!!!

ps. i was wondering if you ever plan to write more oneshots about hunter in the canon universe (ish, ykwim!!), or if youve moved on now to your own aus?? no complaints either way i LOVEEE all your toh work, but your vee & hunter fics DO hold a special place in my toh-based heart and i was wondering if there'd ever be more?

I think one of my strengths is that I'm good at changing styles, both at writing and art! It's obviously a lot more noticeable in art, so I've gotten lots of comments from people who are used to seeing one style from me really surprised to see me do stuff that looks totally differently. I think I'm pretty good at it in writing, too! I've got lots of fics written totally differently and I hope they're all good. I think my second person work is my best though, teehee.

I've been jasperbrained for awhile but I DO actually have a ton of ideas I've scribbled in my notes for non jasper fanfics in my notes, even if I haven't written them. AND I've actually got a vee and hunter fic I've got outlined that I've been rotating in my head recently that I just need to sit down and DO but I totally do intend to. I think it's gonna be a really good one. It's about like, how and why vee is able and willing to forgive him even though he killed one of the other basilisks, how she could not only forgive him but live and trust him as a beloved brother. Cuz it's something I have a lot of feelings about, like, vee, who she is, how she thinks, her reasoning and her feelings. And I really wanna share them!!!!

I don't know if I'm really gonna post lots of non au toh fics again like I was... I have a tendency to go through cycles. ADHD brain. So like six months, a year, I will do One Thing and absolutely nothing else. Like I will be writing fanfic obsessively or I'll be animating 12 hours a day and nothing else or I will do nothing but original content or nothing but a fandom. And unfortunately I do not control the brain fjejfjfn rip. So I cannot predict if my brain will decide I'm allowed to again or not! But whatever the brain says I can do I hope is good and will be enjoyed by someone, but also I totally understand when it's like "welp. That is definitely not something I'm here for" lol. I am always swinging around between stuff.

[lifesupreme-if]

Dude, the Ai anon is going around If's asking people the same thing and telling them that eventually Ai will become better than actual writers' writing and to adapt and stop being closed-minded 😭

hiya. i'm not entirely out of the loop: i've done a little bit of searching to read asks they've sent others. unfortunately, my roommate's boyfriend is an NFT/AI bro, so i'm just used to listening to the rhetoric of people who fall into that sphere of interests.

while the anon holds the beliefs they do regarding AI, i don't believe that the initial ask they are sending is being sent in bad faith, and assuming an intent to insult or offend is unnecessary. initial reactions may perceive the message as a slight against the style of authors receiving it, though to me it reads more as they think AI is really cool and believe it would speed the process of projects they might enjoy being released, or simply that they are providing a resource that they place their trust in and would like to see others open up to. there are people in the world who hold similar beliefs to anon's, and they will continue the act they consider "making" with the grifted materials AI provides.

adapt or perish is not an uncommon mindset, and as anon seems to believe that AI is a way to the future, it makes sense that they would see refusal to believe in or use it as modern pushback from those who fear the passage of time.

i cannot change their opinion, and they cannot change mine. anon offered a suggestion, a piece of advice, and as with all advice we are given in life, the only thing that we can do is wade through and choose what works for us or does not.

art is a human labor. a human labor of love, grief, passion, and emotion. i wholeheartedly believe that one of the wonderful things about writing and Interactive Fiction is its long history of humans sitting down and pouring their own hard work into it, untangling sentences and plot holes and putting their brains to work. in doing so we strengthen our voices, connect with others, and often just bask in the mental stimulation we need to thrive. i believe that artists, writers, creators should all do what we can to protect our own and others' intellectual properties from being fed into the AI machine. there are those who willingly submit their work to AI, but it should be left a choice.

anon also seems to feel passionately, but about AI itself. this world does not work without all different kinds of people, and while they might not find their like-minded peers in this circle of the internet, there are those that would happily explore their suggestion.

the extent of my interaction with anon was receiving the initial ask, posting a response image to it, and editing the post to add tags to give an actual response. learning more about their beliefs beyond that was only accessible due to the internet and being able to see things they've sent to others, but to be entirely honest, i read their suggestion and turned it down. at the time of posting this, my only interaction with them has been entirely at face-value: learning more about them is not my business.