#I’ve had a really bad breakout for over a month

[mirdaniaa]

Okay but what do y’all use for your hormonal acne

[hazelfoureyes]

The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 3)

I deadass wrote part one as a one shot. Is this what peer pressure is? I love it.

It would have been easy to forget you, your soul was his anyways so the real fun had already finished. But that pesky video hit most streamed in 24 hours, he couldn’t even walk to the butcher without hearing you scream his name from errant phones. Surely there was a way, even from hell, to finish what he started and get you out of his system.

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x reader, smut, soft Alastor, unprotected sex (duh?), creampie, edging a little, feelings, Valentino exists, Vox also exists, literally wrote this split screen with part 2 on the right side so I could line it up right like he does hehe, Alastor has a bad time

tag requested: @astraechos , @thekanrojimitsuri2 , @hoeforalbedo , @crazylazybabyk , @oddball08 , @lovingyeet , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @random-3455 , @alicehasdrowned , @des-deswain5621 , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @doctorswife221b

When Val released, ‘The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice’, it immediately went viral. The website crashed, downloads surpassed his wildest, horniest dreams.

It’s scary but also hot? ☆☆☆☆☆

Eat me Mr. Radio Demon!

I’ve never wanted to be a pussy so much in my life.

The reviews were all favorable, the comments rolling in, it was perfect.

Until Vox said it wasn’t. He had seen the video, but figured no one would care about seeing Alastor fuck anything. It wasn’t the success that got under his skin, it was the wave of positive attention it brought Alastor. Suddenly everyone was tuning in to his broadcasts, little miss princess’s hotel was busier than ever.

And it was ubiquitous. Every screen seemed to feature Alastor’s breakout role.

“I said pull it, Val!” Vox slammed his hands on Valentino’s coffee table.

“Vox, baby, you’re being really sensitive about this. I’m literally fucking piles of money right now. Actual piles of money, like, person sized piles.” Val took a drag of his cigarette, “Its good for business.”

“Would you rather fuck money, or me?” Vox’s screen glitched.

Val leaned his elbows on his knees, “That’s a really difficult question for me and I think you know that.”

“Augh! Val! Think of the big picture! That obsolete dickhead gaining attention means gaining power. And that’s bad for business.”

Val’s eyes fluttered, “What if we like, say it wasn’t him?”

Flashes of Alastor’s face fazed in and out of focus across Vox’s screen, your body flipping over, a mess of tentacles writhing.

Val took off his glasses, “Oh yeah, that’s pretty obviously him.”

“What is?” Vox’s face splintered back to the screen.

“Do you—- do you not know you’ve been like,” Val used his cigarette to gesture at Vox’s face, “just straight up playing his porno?”

Vox’s hands flew to his screen, “No! Fucking shit! What the fuck!!” He picked up a vase and threw it across the room, “Wipe it clean off the server! Delete it! Ban it’s fucking streaming! End of discussion!”

Val shrugged, he owned every bootleg distributor in the pride ring. He’d pull it and up the price threefold for illegal downloads. “Whatever you want, amorcito.”

Alastor was quite happy the video went ‘underground’ of sorts. The first month after you left, he was plagued by the sound of your voice. Everywhere he went it seemed you were screaming his name, every phone and television a conduit for you.

What really bothered him though, was the reaction others had to him. Where once sinners leapt from his path and set theirselves on fire to avoid him, now people winked and waved. It made his skin crawl. When alive, at the peak of his radio show fame, it wasn’t uncommon to have fans approach him in jazz clubs. But the decorum of 1930's jazz fans was a far cry from the brazen displays of desire from the citizens of hell.

“Perhaps I should have thought it through?” He mused.

“Ya think?” Rosie put her tea down, “Was it worth it, at least?”

He mulled the question over. Worth it? Well, he had your soul. Which is grand. But you weren’t even in hell to be called upon. What did he really get from the deal? Alastor brought his palm to his face, already feeling the blush spreading. Rosie's chuckle didn't help. He did get something. You'd been gone a month, and each day he woke up having forgot you existed. And every night he lied down to rest and imagined your eyes staring back at him. Did he want to fight you, or surrender, when he saw that look? When the silk tie had fallen from your face, slipping down your nose to reveal your intense stare...He thought his heart had stopped. For every ounce of resilience in your voice he found a pound of fury in your gaze. What poor luck Valentino had been given to receive you as an offering.

"Too soon to tell." He leaned back, finally dropping his hand.

“Well it seemed you had a good time… not that I could see much through the green glow and all that static noise. Really spoiled the climax with that move, Alastor dear."

Alastor’s eyes were saucers, “Rosie. Are you implying-,”

“What?” She drew out the word, “I thought you weren’t into those things so of course I was curious!”

He sighed, “I’m not.”

Rosie pushed the teaspoon around her cup with one finger, “Sure looked like you were.”

He crossed his arms, indignant, “You don’t have to have an appetite to enjoy a meal.”

“Message received loud and clear dear! I won’t bring up the subject again.” She cackled and changed the topic to the latest gossip around the colony.

Another night staring at the ceiling, mind ghosting over the idea of you. He felt like he his sanity was unraveling Leaving his bed, he stepped barefoot onto the grass of the swampy forest he materialized into his room when he moved in to the hotel.

With an outstretched hand, Alastor felt for your connection. He couldn’t see it, but the weight of the chain connecting your soul to him sunk into his palm. Curious, he wrapped his fingers around the invisible links and pulled.

With a soft green glow, you rose from the grass.

His breath hitched, he hadn’t expected that. “It seems our deal really did stick, didn't it?" walking towards you, Alastor dropped to his knees at your feet. You were on your side, unmoving.

His head cocked to the left, ears turned in. Alastor crawled toward you, rolling you onto your back and opening your legs. He slotted himself there, “Hellooo,” He took your face in his both of his hands, elbows resting beside your ears, “Are you… sleeping, dear?”

This is ridiculous.

Alastor inspected your face; peaceful. It was a new sight for him, he'd really only ever seen you in some kind of rage or lost in pleasure. His hand slid down your body, realizing you were in the robe still. He laughed, but realized it was for no one. "Are you really going to sleep, hmm?" He hooked his hands under your knee and brought it up around his hip.

Nothing.

"I'm starting to get offended, dear." He leaned down and whispered into the crook of your neck. "If you don't wake up-" He slid down, the robe open enough to let his breathe ghost over your stomach. He stopped. He couldn't do anything to you while you slept. It was void of any enjoyment for him. Without your reactions, it was just....pointless. While he did enjoy your performance in the studio, he was taught to show respect for those of fairer means. A sleeping partner fell into that category.

He reached beneath you and straightened your robe that had bunched there under your body. Placing your leg back down by your ankle, he began pulling the collar up and closed it snuggly.

He stood there for a second, looking over you. It worked. You're here again. His mother had taught him that the human soul was most vulnerable at night. When asleep, the soul could wander from the body and travel earth and beyond. She even said people could train themselves, and with practice, remember their journeys even after waking.

Kneeling down, Alastor pushed your hair from your face, "Don't forget. What fun is there in that?" The shadow beneath your body shimmered neon green before you were swallowed by inky darkness and Alastor was once again, alone.

After his mother died, Alastor was often alone. Most of his time, really. Well, there were people always around. But they were staff, or hangers-on, or women looking for a comfortable life. They were dancers and bootleggers and musicians. Which was fine and grand. But, they never saw him. He never let them, they never tried. He was the radio host. The great dancer. The southern gentleman. The killer. The cannibal. The deer in the woods. Not a single person ever looked at him on earth and saw him. Which was precisely what he wanted, and manufactured with his wide smile and good manners.

So when your eyes bore into him from that tacky studio set, and he felt suddenly naked in front of you, he knew you were looking at the him. You saw him.

It was worth it. Alastor was willing to admit that to himself.

Over the next couple days, he would randomly try to pull you to him. Through out the day, in different places, he would summon your soul and wait. Nothing. It confirmed his theory, your soul was only able to leave your living body while you were asleep.

In the privacy of his room, Alastor paced the space between grass and carpet. What was this feeling? Nerves? He hadn't felt nervous since he was a child.

But, what was causing him a pause, was if he summoned you and you didn't appear. Maybe it had been a fluke? Maybe for the 7th time in 3 days he would pull on that connection and be left standing there, alone.

Still.

He ran his hands through his hair, trying to regain composure. Finally, he reached out for your ties to him, and pulled you into hell.

He held his breath, unconsciously.

With a glow, you appeared again before him. He was quick this time to approach you, setting beside you and leaning close to your face. Asleep.

"Is this my foreseeable future?" He asked, "Staring at you while you sleep, my doe."

Suddenly, you opened your eyes and met his. Reaching up, you grabbed him with both hands and pulled his face into yours. Your hands ran through his hair as you took him in a frenzied kiss. Alastor froze for a beat, but when your tongue licked at his bottom lip, he was brought back to the moment. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, rolling over yours and reaching as deep as he could. He felt like he could unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole. He really could, if he wanted to.

Alastor swung his leg over your body and straddled your hips. "Mon cher, you've finally joined me." His chest was rising and falling with excited breath.

"Alastor?" You tried to feel your body, but it was nowhere near you.

"Don't worry your pretty little head. You're still alive and well. I've merely borrowed your soul for the evening." He looked down at you, and finally, for the first time in what felt like months, your eyes fell to his face.

But today, they were soft and out of focus.

"Can you see me, my dear?" He leaned down slightly, trying to read the look on your face.

"Am I dreaming?"

He chuckled, "Perhaps we both are." With an exhale he wondered if he had been holding his breath this entire time. "No, this isn't a dream."

"I don't understand...but--," You lifted your arms towards him, "Should I say thank you? It was fucked, what happened." Your voice was slow, words a little slurred, "But, I'm home safe and sound now. You did what you promised me. I don't know if I'll ever see you again so...should I thank you now?"

Your tongue felt fat in your mouth, heavy and delayed.

Alastor leaned down over you, "You don't have to say anything." He used his knees to open your legs, and settled there. "Unfortunately, you've become a little worm in my mind." His hands slid under the silk robe you hadn't stopped wearing yet, "I'm hoping if I finally have you, I can...whet my appetite, and return to my normal self." He felt along your hips, hands stopping when he realized you were naked under the thin piece of fabric.

"I keep remembering," you covered your eyes with your hands, "that big hand of yours. And I realize, you never touched me past that."

He smiled, genuinely, truly, "Exactly! You understand the problem precisely. Shall we both have our fill and be done with it?"

You moved your hands to touch his ears, waiting for him to disappear at any moment, "Please. I'm so tired of missing someone I don't even know." He removed your hands, and you held them to your chest.

"My thoughts exactly, mon cher." He adjusted his hips, letting his crotch rub against your core. This was the closest he had been to you since you'd met. It was dizzying, and it felt like his skin was vibrating everywhere it met yours.

A soft moan left your throat, causing his cock to twitch in his pants. Yes, it was you. This wasn’t his standard response to such sounds. Alastor sat up, his legs bent and knees at either side of your hips. Taking one of your hands from your chest, he placed a kiss on a digit. Then another. He kissed his way down your arm.

“So gentle. Weird.” You tried to focus on him, but your mind was still cloudy. The sensations were here but also so far away, too far away, in another lifetime all together.

“Was I not gentle before, all things considered?,” he continued his way down your arm.

You let your eyes drift to the sky, stars watching you from above, “More than him.”

His mouth went dry at the mention of Val, "I am many things more than him, darling." As his lips found your neck, he took a deep breath. "I can actually take my time now. No audience." He sucked a bruise, and released you with a pop. He presented two fingers to your lips, and without thinking about it you began to suck them. While you were slipping your tongue over and between his fingers, he moved to continue a trail of kisses and nips down your right arm.

"Get them nice and wet." He watched through half lidded eyes as you licked his long fingers. He knew he needed to remove his hips from yours, but the idea pained him. Finally, he took his fingers from you and swiped them over your entrance. Your chest jumped, so he did it again. He tried to push the fingers into you, but the resistance was more than he expected. You were wet, but tight. He let his middle finger slip inside you. So soft. So warm. His shadow tendrils allowed him some feeling but not this, this was something they kept to themselves.

"When was your last time, mon cher?"

Your mind searched for memories still left behind in your body somewhere, "In hell."

"You're in hell now."

"This doesn't feel like hell." You ground your hips onto his palm, trying to get that single digit slowly moving in you to come deeper, to become more. He replied by pushing in his pointer finger, erection becoming painful already as you let out a little moan. Bending them up, he began to make long thrusts past your g-spot. His mouth long stilled on your arm, staring at your face as you whimpered into the sky.

"Look at me."

Your eyes darted to him, half open and wet. Alastor felt his patience snap. Undoing his belt and zipper, he finally freed his cock. He ran his head between your entrance to your clit , gathering your fluids on him to ease his entry. Taking both of your legs, he held them at the ankles and set them on his left shoulder. With your hips slightly raised, he pressed into you.

With a hiss you dug your fingers into the dirt, body tensing instinctively. One of his arms hugged your legs to his chest, the other was now bruising your hips as he continued to push into you. With just his head in, he began fast and shallow thrusts. Every time making more progress into your warmth. The stretch burned, but the feeling of him forcing space into you for himself just made you wetter.

Finally, he bottomed out. He had no sense to still himself, shallow thrusts gave way to long, deep plunges. Alastor's breathing was filling the space around you, mixing with your own. Leaning back, he looked down at where you two were connected.

He withdrew slowly, nearly entirely, and pushed back in. Again. And again. It was intoxicating, how he felt himself melt into you. He'd had lovers in life, but never had he been with someone without a barrier of some sorts. Be that his well placed smile or latex. He'd never fucked anyone raw before. He almost regretted not trying earlier, as the sensation of your walls and arousal sticking to his cock and thighs was breaking him. Watching himself entirely disappear inside you, he closed his eyes. Everything was so hot, so tight, would he disappear entirely? Would he lost in the pleasure your body was so effortlessly giving? Was he the unlucky one?

Alastor pushed your knees up to your chest, using his body weight to hold them down as his paced picked up. You brought your dirtied nails to your own legs, holding on tightly. Desperately you needed something to tether you to the ground, keep you still against the twitches shaking your stomach and chest. You felt with any jolt to your nerves you'd fall off the world and drift into the night.

He felt the build up, his balls tightening and drawing in, he wanted to slow down-- he wanted to bring you there first but he couldn't stop the rutting of his hips. With a whine, Alastor's forehead came to rest on yours, hips smacking into you with a wet slap. "Look at me," He commanded again, and you obeyed. One of his hands came to your chin to hold your head still, "Don't you dare look away."

Struggling to keep your eyes open, he pushed into you with one final, deep thrust. His hands came down now to the ground around you as he pushed you into the grass. Hips stuttering, cock twitching in you. You'd never let anyone cum inside you before, the sensation of heat quickly filling your cunt made you tighten around him. "Good girl", He purred, jaw tight.

He pulled back slowly before bringing his hips down, sweat sticking to his forehead where it met yours. His pace was quickly becoming brutal, a hand finding its way to that little bud of nerves of yours. With rough pressure and hurried speed his thumb drew out your orgasm. When you came, you gasped out his name, craning your neck up to ghost your lips over his open mouth. As the pleasure surged from your center, you could feel your body again. He tried to keep his eyes on your eyes, but the overstimulation of your cunt trying to wring him dry forced him to shut them.

A light shone through his eyelids, startling them open again.

"Wait-!" He watched you get pulled away from beneath him. Before he could react, Alastor was on all fours in the forest, alone. Eyes wide, he pounded his fist against the grass. He tried to summon you back to him, to drag you to him but nothing happened.

He thought he'd gone crazy. Hands came to his head, smile pained as he tried to process what he was feeling.

No.

Not enough.

Too soon.

A growl ripped through his chest. This hadn't satiated him at all. No, he was worse off now. He was starved, he had nourishment ripped from his mouth and he as angry for it. Angry to hell, to Valentino, to the conditions of owning a living soul.

He did not even attempt to rest that night. Taking his time, he had to find composure again. Alastor managed to pull himself together after several hours of self isolation. After his heart stopped racing, after his hands stopped feeling phantom skin beneath them, he calmed his smile and went about his day.

When night returned, he couldn't help but stare into the forest domain. He wanted so badly to bring you to himself, but that want was terrifying. It was overpowering him, and he couldn't accept that.

Another night left, another day passed. Husk found Alastor's cruelty to be growing, his patience giving out at the smallest perceived slight. Angel stopped engaging entirely. Charlie found herself wanting to approach him, find out why it seemed his hair was always standing on end, his eyes sharp. But, she didn't. She couldn't. Alastor would pass through the halls like a raging specter. He wouldn't slow or acknowledge anyone.

He managed a week. Satisfied with his resolve, he waited for when night fell and he was sure you'd be deep asleep, yanked your soul from your body and into him. He felt rabid, like he his brain was catching fire. Finally when you materialized before him, he grabbed your face with his hand.

"My doe?"

Just like before, you stirred, and your hands immediately went for his hair. He pulled back, "Are you awake?"

"Am I dreaming? Alastor?" You looked drunk, mind struggling to process the change in scenery. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he hovered above you, and you pulled him into a kiss. He happily returned it, hands quick to untie the robe you had taken as your own. He wasted now time in getting himself unsheathed and lined up with you, before he could enter you reached out to him, "I wanted to say--- thank you. I don't know if I'll ever really see you again."

The realization made his blood run cold. His mother's stories flooded back to him. It takes training, and time, to remember the travels of the wandering soul.

"You don't have to say anything." Alastor thrust into you, your body tense but not as resistant as before. When he was finally enveloped in you, he could feel himself calm. He didn't feel any need to be gentle this time around. He immediately set a bruising pace, digging his nails into the soft flesh of your ass as he forced your hips to meet his with every thrust. You gasped beneath him, eyes wandering up to the sky just past his head. He'd bring you to climax, wanting to drink in your expression, and to his horror as you choked out his name you were spirited away from him again.

Everyone on the floor heard Alastor's rampage. When Angel ran to get Charlie and Vaggie, they were scared to knock. With a steadying breath Charlie rapped the door, "Al? You okay in there?"

Suddenly, silence.

The door whipped open, Alastor smiling with half lidded eyes, "Why of course. What ever made you think otherwise?"

"The fuckin' sounds of carnage, maybe?" Angel looked past Alastor. The sofa shredded, coffee table in pieces. The wallpaper had been ripped down and torn to shreds. Charlie noticed the dirt under his nails, but Alastor coolly pulled his hands behind his back.

"Can I do something for you?" His tone was cold.

"I guess not, Al...," Charlie took in the damage, "Did something happen?"

Alastor smiled wider, "No," and closed the door. No one saw him the following day, which wasn't entirely unusual but it was weighing on Charlie. When Alastor finally appeared and announced he was going to Cannibal Town, she was elated. A chat with Rosie would surely bring him back to himself.

"I don't see the problem. You've got her soul, you can summon her to you, and you get a little," She searched for the word, "relief. Why do you look so pained, old friend?"

"You know better than most I have no interest in chasing women, Rosie."

"Yet..." She cocked her brow.

"It isn't about the release. I don't particularly need that. I never have." He huffed, the conversation already exhausting him, "When I would kill someone, I was God. Their life was in my hands. I took that power from them."

Rosie clicked her tongue, "And when she's in your hands?" Alastor hunched over his black coffee before remembering himself and straightening his back. "I've never seen you like this before, hun. You've got it bad, huh?"

"Personal connections like this, Rosie, are dangerous. I lost my self restraint entirely. It's a weakness." He fought to regain his smile, never knowing who could be passing by.

She tutted him, "Oh no, that's where you're wrong. The difference between a strong man and an unstoppable man is having something to care about." Rosie leaned over and set her hand on top of his, "Imagine you walked into Val's studio right now and found her like you did a couple months ago. How would you react?"

His stomach wretched forward, if he saw you today, hanging from the ceiling? The stench of Valentino's cigarette smoke clinging to your hair, the marks where his hands had made contact with you? His hand under her's tightened, claws leaving marks into the wooden tabletop. "Do you feel weak right now, Alastor?" The hair on his ears was standing straight up, his now black eyes met hers, "You sure don't look it."

He’d remembered hearing something similar before from Vaggie. Could it be true? It was a precarious ladder. If he let himself be close to someone, then the person is in turn close to him, then that person knows him intimately, and then— they are a walking soft spot. Someone could take them and torture them for information. Or, hurt them to hurt him.

But, who would dare? A fire rose in chest at the thought. What was the point of power if he couldn’t have what he wanted? If he had to answer to others about his desires? To pursue strength and status was what he wanted but if that strength didn’t afford him freedom than what good was it, really?

"I say, not that you asked," Rosie smiled and withdrew her hand, "Could be nice to have a little company now and then. Plus, better than waiting 60 years or something for her to just die." She shrugged, "Now, eat. You look like a shit."

Rosie had a point, while your existence was fragile, it was still available to him.

For awhile, he would call you nightly. Alastor would fuck you into the grass, beneath the trees, under the stars. He learned your orgasm would wake you, and he would draw it out as long as he could. He'd edge you for hours, watching you sob for your release. Slowly, your consciousness became more and more solid during your meetings.

To his relief, his hunger for your presence calmed over time. He could handle a week or even two without sharing your company, and he noticed each time you seemed to recognize him more. You'd participate more, moan louder, scream his name and squirm from the pleasure. He relished trapping you underneath his wide shoulders, pulling you onto his lap as he fucked up into you.

He wasn't fond of the few times he summoned you and you were already wet, or smelling of cologne. He'd tease, "Lonely?" and when he'd fuck his back cum into you before helping you chase your own orgasm, he'd remind you, "You're mine, little doe. No one can replace me." And he'd feel his chest swell. Others had your body for the night, but your soul was his forever. With every meeting, he felt more like himself. And the nights you were screaming his name in the forest, and his horns were looming over you as he marked you over and over as his, he felt powerful.

Some nights, he'd call you to him to just let you rest. He'd enjoy a book, or some jazz over a meal, while you lied quietly in his bed.

The days he pulled you into hell and your hair smelled of the trees, of sweat and dirt, he would be gentler. He could feel the ache in your muscles, the tan on your cheeks, and sent you back.

One such night came, where he of course took your chains in his hand and tugged. But this time, when you arrived, your face was painted with anger. You were asleep still, and even when he whispered to you, you didn't wake. You were having a nightmare, from what he could tell. He took you to his bed, and let you settle.

You stayed there until waking up again in your bed.

And every night that week, he'd bring you to his bed and go about his tasks while you fought some demons in your head. He'd never seen you have a nightmare, and began to wonder if something was happening in the overworld.

Alastor was enjoying a deer carcass in his room, humming softly to himself, when a green light erupted on the floor.

He was well aware it wasn't night anymore, and that he hadn't brought you here. With a soft smile, he left his meal and approached the light. Slowly, your body rose from the darkness there. Not just your soul.

When you looked up at him, a smile on your lips and two small doe ears on your head, he grinned, "Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?" He offered you a hand up, "Welcome home.”

༻Masterlist༺

[yelenassafeplace]

| Found peace

Again sorry for my bad English, I’m French and still have a lot to learn. Anyway please do not translate or re upload this oneshot. Thank you.

pairing: Simon Riley x blackfem!reader

Author's note: just fluff and comfort from Simon. This one shot is inspired by one of the relationships I’ve been in so it’s kind of a way for me to try and get over it. There’s racism and a slight mention of physical abuse in here so, please be aware of it and don’t read this if it’s something that could trigger you.

Warnings: racism, mentions of a toxic and abusive relationship, lots of harsh words and hurtful terms, ends with fluff and comfort but the beginning can be triggering, tell me if I should add more warnings.

Your last relationship had left you traumatized. The man you had been with had treated you like nothing but trash. Sometimes it felt like he didn’t even see you as a human being.

It was because of your skin color. Of course, you had to fall on a racist.

It seemed like being a plus-size and pansexual black woman wasn’t a constraining enough battle for you. On top of that, God had to put this man on your way.

This “relationship” lasted a week. A. Week.

But it was a week of pure mental torture and abuse.

Somehow, he had to remind you of the color of your skin at every moment. In case you forgot, you know.

You did the dishes for him out of kindness? You received a “thanks n*gga.”.

You had your bonnet or wig on? He pulled it right off your head without caring if it hurt you and made fun of your real hair.

He saw a monkey on a TV documentary or an another black person out of the house? He immediately pulled out the “Hey, look ! It’s one of your brothers.” cards.

You were out with his friends? He had to make racist jokes and accents to put you down in front of them.

He got an STD out of nowhere? You obviously gave it to him because you’re black. You don’t have anything after examination? Well…It doesn’t change anything because every black person in the world has AIDS. Its well known.

He’s been having more pimples and breakouts since you two got together? It’s definitely because of you, since you know… You’re black.

You said something he didn’t like or complained about his behavior? He slapped you. No, but really who do you think you are? You’re lucky he’s dating you in the first place. That’s right, he’s doing you a favor and sacrificing himself. Who would want to have a black girlfriend like you?

Yeah. It was one of the hardest week of your life. You never felt so little and unworthy of anything in front of someone.

After that, you decided to just stay single and never try having something serious with another man. You were nowhere near being healed enough to get in a new relationship anyway.

It had been an entire year before you met the one. And if someone had told you that you would have settled down with a white man again before you met him, you would have burst into laughter.

But here you are now in a happy and healthy relationship with Simon.

Of course, he’s not perfect and he has his own issues. But he never puts you down. Never.

Not even when he’s angry or frustrated. Not even when you’re having a big argument. Not even when you’re straight up mean to him. Never.

He loves everything about you. Your natural hair, your tanned skin tone, your wide hips and big thighs, the way your accent get more pronounced every time you speak with your family or with someone from your country. You’re just a goddess in his eyes.

After being with him just during a few months, he had helped you gain so much more confidence back that you could proudly wear your natural hair outside.

Your long and full afro is now freely bouncing up and down or side to side slightly as you walk through the mall with him by your side to do some shopping.

Of course people were staring and giving you weird looks, but no one commented on it and honestly, you couldn’t care less.

But unfortunately, after years of living peacefully, you finally had your first racist encounter in a while.

Too bad for the woman, your fiancé was not having any of it.

“My gosh, your hair looks so…”

A white woman says while touching your hair without your consent, a weirded out expression on her face as she messes your afro up.

“Uh, don’t touch my hair without my permission please, ma’am. It’s not correct.”

You instinctively take a few steps back to get your hair away from her hands.

“Oh come on, it’s just hair. Do I need permission to touch your shoulders too? I don’t think so.”

And as she says that, she tries to reach for your hair again. But this time, Simon steps in and grabs her wrist before yanking her hand away from you.

“You don’t get to touch my wife’s hair without her permission. She said no, so back off.”

The woman scoffs and grabs her wrist to hold it against her chest, her eyes wide with shock.

“How rude of you. I was just trying to appreciate her African culture. How dare you touch me like that?!”

She starts to talk loudly, the attention of the others customers turning on the three of you.

You start to feel uncomfortable with all these eyes on you, so you gently tap Simon’s arm to signal to him that it’s okay and you two can just go into another shop.

“What? No, we’re not leaving. You said you wanted to try dresses here. We’re staying.”

He then turns to the woman again to answer her. 

“How do I dare to touch you? You can touch my wife, but I can’t touch you?”

He laughs before tilting his head to the side, looking straight at her soul through her eyes.

“Why do you feel so entitled with her? Is it because she’s black?”

He keeps his voice loud and clear on purpose so the other customers can hear.

The woman’s cheeks and face get red as she starts fuming. With anger or shame, you couldn’t figure out.

“What?! Are you calling me a racist? I’ll have you know that my son’s best friend is black, and I don’t have any problem with him being around my house ! I even traveled to Africa once when I was young.”

You can’t help but chuckle at that, turning your head to the side so she wouldn’t see your smile.

“What are you laughing about, you…”

She cuts herself off before she can continue, clearing her throat and looking around her while being embarrassed. She was probably going to insult your skin color or call you a monkey.

“Please, finish your sentence, miss. We’re all listening.”

Simon says, his arms crossed over his chest as he patiently waits for her to continue.

She lets out a frustrated groan after seeing some teenagers were recording, turning on her heels and letting out some muffled curses as she gets out of the store.

You let out a sigh of relief as she stomps out, grateful that things didn’t go south. Simon stares at her back as she leaves before turning to face you, rearranging the hair she messed gently.

“I’ll wash your hair for you when we get home. We don’t know if her hands were as filthy as her personality.”

He jokes, and you laugh, leaning into him to get a hug.

“Yeah. Thank you…”

He smiles and hugs you back, softly stroking your back as the people around you get their attention back on what they were doing slowly.

“No need to thank me. I’m here for that, lovely. I’ll always defend you no matter what.”

And you know he means it. That’s one of the reasons you love him so much.

He presses his lips against yours for a sweet kiss, and you smile into it, feeling like you aren’t alone against all of this anymore.

You got home and followed him in the bathroom straight after putting your things away and having a snack so he could wash your hair. And he did it perfectly, even using conditioner and blow drying your hair.

“How do you know you need to do that?”

You asked at some point, looking at his reflection in the mirror, as he was now putting oil in your hair to hydrate them.

“I watched videos on YouTube.”

And just with that, you completely melted. He went out of his way and learned how to care for your hair… If that’s not husband material, you don’t know what is.

And you got surprised again as you got out of the bathroom and saw a hairstylist installing everything she needed to braid your hair in the living room, looking over at him with wide eyes.

“What? You’ve been telling me you wanted to get braids for your friend’s wedding.”

You smiled as you saw the little blush on his cheeks while he shrugs like it’s nothing, getting on your toes to give him kisses.

“Thank you baby.”

Oh, he was so getting lucky tonight.

My first time writing something else than smut on this app, not sure of how it turned out🤣

[shinyacademy]

An Electrifying Surprise - Shiny Pawmi and Shinx

Hello trainers! I’ve been busy at work researching but I have a great story for you today! I decided to go shiny hunting for Pawmi. I’ve wanted one for a while and have waited patiently for a breakout of Pawmi to occur. The problem is, I’ve been waiting for months now… and no breakout.

I decided to go to a place where I’ve seen a lot of Pawmi before, specifically South Province Area 3. Even just around the Pokemon Center there, I’d seen a few congregate. I figured if I could get a bunch to appear over the span of 30 minutes… surely one would be shiny! So I set up my picnic table and it was sandwich time! 🥪

Here’s my recipe to catch a shiny Pawmi!

Save first!!

One serving of cucumber

One serving of pickles

Three servings of yellow peppers

Any two herba mystica 🌿 but not sweet and sour together

What I had forgotten was that this area was also home to a lot of Shinx. Knowing that any electric type shiny could be attracted to the power of the sandwich, I kept my eyes open for both yellow and red.

I found Shinx first! It made sense because the population of Shinx is much higher than Pawmi in this area. But my rule of thumb is that any shiny is a WIN. So regardless I made sure to catch it and save, even though it was not my target Pokémon. You might have different rules for your hunts and that’s ok! Just make sure you’re using your herba mystica wisely.

Another tule I have for myself is that I always finish out the duration of a hunt. Are too many shinies ever a bad thing? Not in my line of work! I also know many trainers who would appreciate my efforts, so onward the hunt goes…

At this point I’m starting to feel skeptical that this is a good place to hunt for shiny Pawmi but then my Mabostiff followed a family of Pawmi and I saw a streak of red! It was shiny Pawmi! Trainers, my Mabostiff isn’t shiny as you can see from the picture, and I haven’t even come up with a proper name for him, but he has been so loyal and wonderful during my hunts. ❣️ It’s important to appreciate the regular Pokémon who help us in our endeavors. What should I name my loyal Mabostiff? Leave suggestions in the comments!

Two shinies in one hunt? That’s extremely lucky! How do I achieve this? First, I do have my shiny charm now. It really does help. Second, I make sure I have a Let’s Go Pokémon out with me as I hunt through the area (today it was Mabostiff). Your Pokémon needs to KO 60 Pokémon to up your odds. Then, move quickly about the area to make sure you’re getting eyes on as many Pokémon as possible!

I liked these shinies so much and my wife saw my progress and made it known that she loves shiny Shinx so I decided to repeat the hunt (for science)! The second time around I only encountered one shiny Shinx so luck was truly on my side during my first hunt. I like these free form shiny hunts - I think I’m going to do more of them. In fact… I saw a Litleo on the ledge and I think Shinx would love another lion Pokémon to play with. Until next time, stay shiny! ✨

[404-403-error]

Great Wall.

Everytime I came back here, it’s always the same thing: mental health going down the drain.

The verge of giving up and holding on for one more day become very very exhausting. Until I had several panic attacks and got me thinking, how much more of “one more day” I can handle?

Though my job is great, my friends are amazing, my current relationship is going steady, but I can’t really help but still feeling so helpeless and worthless.

I have no idea that being a lecturer can be so great, talking and connecting to my students give me such great joy. Until I realize such an unstable person shouldn’t have this much power over human beings. I’m lacking in a lot of things which I’ve been trying to improve myself for a year now, but the feeling of being an unworthy lecturer keeps following me like a dark shadow. Not to mention my subpar skill that I’m 100% sure my students can see right through me I’m not qualified. I can’t shake it off.

One thing leads to another, I keep getting this psychosomatic that effects me physically - beside regular panic attack. I get tired easily, I get sick more often, made bad choices, bad handling money when I used to be so good at saving up, I gain like 17kg in 6 months, several skin breakouts, etc.

I hate looking myself in the mirror. I’m not excited going out since there’s limited clothes that fit me.

I tried new hobbies but most of the time it failed miserably. I tried changing meds and doctors to find that feels right to me, but nothing helps. I’m done trying to wear everybody down with nothing but more depressed shit updates coming from me.

I swear to god I’ve tried. God shoud’ve known how much I tried.

It feels like there’s a giant icy wall that keeps my eyes dry and teary at the same time.

[hinumdom]

life update

work is pretty chill lately but i prefer to call it the calm before the storm ‘cause i know what work lies ahead

my nephew had his junior high graduation bagging with high honors (proud tita over here!)

drinks i’ve been into the past few weeks are 7-11’s iced french vanilla and 19 degrees charcoal series, and on top of these drinks i also tried cinnabon’s cinammon latte and a strawberry sorbet gin and tonic

had karaoke with workmates for the first time in forever (don’t remember when was the last time we went) then we went to BGC right after to meet up with more friends

update on my acne journey: already consulted with a board-certified dermatologist and i’m currently on oral antibiotics + i was prescribed to change my entire skincare regimen so i’m on tretinoin, topical antibiotic, and mild products (all i’m using needs prescription and yes, my acne breakout is THAT bad)

also, i was recommended to undergo facial at least once a month (i’ve never done this before) so i’ll schedule an appointment in the coming days since my dermatologist suggested me a clinic and what treatment to get

splurge on shoes a bit hehe i bought new balance and addidas (also, they had their midyear sale so i was able to save up a bit) i’m not really into shoes but the current ones i have are really in need of replacement

been listening to too sweet by hozier and gods by new jeans (the cover version from girls on fire show)

jeonghan x wonwoo unit was the duo i never knew i needed, their debut date and album release is on june 17, i can't wait!!

[submarinerwrites]

Now I'm curious, what do you do to your skin?

ok anon you didnt know this but i’ve been kindof fixated on this for the last few months. SO. this will be uhhhh a lot of information.

for context: my skin is somehow simultaneously dry and acne-prone. it’s also very sensitive, so like i’ll react badly (flushing, sensitivity) to fragrance, alcohol etc. also i have violent seasonal allergies so that impacts my skin too. in my early teens i got pretty bad acne pretty much exclusively on my forehead, which cleared up when i started birth control (which i stopped when i was about 19). it was fine for about six to seven years, and tbh i didn’t do very much during that time (like, literaly just washed and moisturized a few times a week + sunscreen when i went into the sun). then, when i turned twenty-two, my skin suddenly started getting tempermental again. i got a bunch of really painful, inflamed breakouts on my cheeks and forehead in sudden succession and i also started getting majorly dry skin just all over.

at that point, i started washing my face a lot more consistently (cerave hydrating facial cleanser), started using sunscreen every day (eltamd uv facial + uv clear), and i also picked up the niacinamide serum and peptide serum from the ordinary bc ? idk actually ? people online said they were good for me? and then i used a moisturizing cream, also from cerave.

anyways i figured out after about a month that the niacinamide was blowing my face up with redness and even more pimples, so i stopped using it immediately. (to be clear: niacinamide in low concentrations actually works really well for me but like. a 10% niacinamide serum is way too much niacinamide for me and frankly most people.)

after a few weeks of that my skin kind of started to clear but since i get pretty bad inflammation and hyperpigmentation after getting zits i also started a retinoid to clear that up. i’ve been using the la roche-posay adapalene gel since it’s actually cheaper than differin where i am. (this is maybe the only part of my skincare routine that i’m truly happy about rn lol). since it was a retinoid i expected some dryness and sensitivity for the first few weeks, but my face started stinging and turning red literally every time i put on moisturizer. after a while i figured out it wasn’t the retinoid’s fault because i my face actually hurt more when i wasn’t using it.

for the last few days i’ve been researching what caused the inflammation, and i figured out that it was probably all of the hyaluronic acid in all of the different products i was using. last night i ended up ditching the cerave moisturizer and the peptide serum and actually had no irritation at all, so i think that’s going to be my new thing. imo since my cleanser is a wash-off product it’s not really causing the sensitivity, so i’m keeping it, and the sunscreens i’ll keep since they don’t seem to actively be doing harm? i do a seven-day cycle at night since i’m still adjusting to the retinoid, which is:

exfoliate: cleanse (cerave salicylic acid cleanser), moisturize (la roche-posay cicaplast balm)

retinoid: cleanse (cerave hydrating facial cleanser), retinoid (la roche-posay adapalene 0.1% gel), moisturize (la roche-posay cicaplast balm)

rest: cleanse (cerave hydrating facial cleanser), moisturize (la roche-posay cicaplast balm)

rest (repeat day 3)

retinoid (repeat day 2)

rest

rest

once i’m fully adjusted to the adapalene i’m going to try to use it daily (except for my one exfoliation day). in the mornings, i just cleanse with the hydrating cleanser and put on sunscreen.

my overall skin philosophy is that the skin is an organ whose main function is protecting us, so i try to take that mentality when it comes to what i put on my face. that means recently i’ve been prioritizing hydration and sun protection, not necessarily aesthetics (though i do hate having pimples).

soo the whole thing is kind of complicated and long-winded but i do do my research, and it’s been working pretty well! if you have any other questions about it please do ask!

[clouds-rambles]

Hey bestie may I request diluc,childe,zhongli,and venti having a bad nightmare over their s/o wanting to break up with them and when they wake up their s/o isn’t there but really they’re in another room or something if that makes sense!! Thank you 🤑

Hi bestie positively evil... i love it <3 nobody question why zhongli and the reader are married in all my headcanons thanks lmao

Pairings; (Seperate) Diluc, Childe, Zhongli, and Venti x reader

Warning(s); panic, nightmares, hurt/comfort, injury mention

Keep reading under the cut!

Diluc

Diluc wakes with a start, his brows furrowed as he takes a moment to arrange the events of his nightmare in his head

Both you and he had a particularly explosive argument after he had come back injured from a night protecting Mondstat 

You had left the winery after exclaiming that you refuse to date someone who has such a lack of regard for his own life. In the long run you’d be saving yourself from further heartbreak if he ended up dead on the front porch

Diluc wonders if dream you could be right...

The red-head finally notices the cold side of the bed you should be sleeping on. He more than remembers going to sleep with you

Panic sets in at the bottom of Dilucs stomach. He must be imagining things right? You’re probably just in the bathroom

A beat passes

Then three

No, you’re not in the bathroom. He would have heard you by now...

What if the dream was actually what had happened last night. A breath catches in the mans throat as he gets out of bed and throws a shirt on

If he couldn’t find you in his home has he truly lost you?

Diluc speedily walks through the halls of his home, checking the spare rooms, the study, the library, the living room, the dining room, the

Diluc opens the door to the kitchen his heart threatening to break out of his chest at the pace it’s beating when he finally spots you drinking a cup of tea, in your pajamas

Thank the archons it was just a dream

“Diluc, honey, are you okay?” you ask getting up from the table in the kitchen to your sweating, hyperventilating partner

Diluc says nothing but opts to hugging you, his head bowing to your chest as he breaths you in

“Diluc, you’re worrying me” you tell him returning his embrace and rubbing circles on his back

“You weren���t in bed” is all he offers to tell you. You don’t push him on the details of why he is so panicked

“I couldn’t sleep so I came down for a herbal tea” you explain kissing the man on his bed of fluffy hair “I have a cup left in the kettle, I can pour one out for you” you offer

“Please” he breathes, but doesn’t move to let you go from the embrace, you can stand to hold him and tell him sweet nothings for a little while. Tea can always be reheated

Childe

It would only be right, and he suspected as much. You had told him that because of what has recently transpired in Liyue you cannot find yourself to love a brutal harbinger

Maybe its for the best. Childe concludes not paying much attention to his weeping heart. Maybe, you’d be happier not to be under the constant eye and scrutiny of the Qixing, the Milleth, and the watchful eye of Childes own fatui informants

Without much pause form Childes last thought the man finds himself waking in his room, unsure if the dream was reality or his mind playing tricks on him, he feels your side of the bed and notices a distinct lack of warmth... and you

He cries

Childe curls himself up in a ball determined to not get caught by anyone showing such an extreme and out of character emotion, he let himself cry. He’s pretty sure he’s sobbing loudly but he doesn’t care. It’s just him in the house anyway. The one person that he doesn’t mind seeing such emotions has left him

That’s until he hears the distinct click of the bedroom door open “Oh my archon Childe, are you okay?” you ask quickly making your way to the side of his bed and placing a hand on his shoulder

The man looks up to you, he isn’t sure if you’re real 

“I thought-” he starts “I had a-” he tries to find his words without seeming like a crazed person “You weren’t-” 

“It’s okay babe, I’m right here. I’m not planning on going anywhere” you console “I just had an epiphany in my dream and I had to write it down” you add explaining your absence. Childe nods along 

“Stay” he tells you as you wipe the tears out of his eyes. You nod and hum

“Of course” you lay onto the bed and let Childe wrap himself around you

You hum him to sleep and whisper sweet nothings

Zhongli

‘I can’t love you anymore Zhongli, I feel obligated to come back to Liyue after every adventure, it’s starting to take a toll on me’

‘But our vows, [name] we made a contract at the altar’

‘To love each other, yes? Zhongli there’s no love left in this marriage, you sleep in the spare bedroom whenever I’m back, we sit in silence over dinner, I don’t think I’ve kissed you in months. The lack of love itself is the breach in the contract’

‘But I-’

‘Think about it, do you really feel the same love that you felt on the day we got married?’

‘[name]-’

Zhongli wakes up with a start, his heart beats a little fast for a second. The man convinces himself it’s just a dream he had, but the coldness of your side of the bed seems to speak otherwise

In all fairness, Zhongli should have rationalised his dream before he started wondering the house like a mad man. The only time he sleeps in the other bed is when you’ve suffered an extreme injury, dinners are often spent with jolly laughs and conversation. And Zhongli prides himself on the amount of affection he gives you around the house... and in the bedroom

But most things aren’t making sense in his head right now

“Zhongli my love” you call him upon noticing him in the hall. You had just come out of the bathroom after a midnight toilet break “Are you okay darling?” you ask placing a hand on his shoulder

The tenseness in Zhongli’s shoulders dissipate as soon as you initiate the touch

“I love you” he tells you, the declaration is out of nowhere to you. But you smile at him and embrace him

“And I love you too” you pause bringing up your hand baring the ring that sits on it “And this ring is a reminder of our vows and my unyielding love to you” you tell him with a smile

Zhongli chuckles at you and returns your hug “You seem to always know how to comfort me my dear”

“It’s because I’m a mind reader” you jest matching your spouses chuckle

Venti

Disappeared. So much so that the thousand winds could tell Venti that you were in fact not in Mondstat and had travelled to Liyue from the time Venti was playing music in the tavern to when he knocked for you early the next morning

The only trace you left was a letter. Unmistakeably written by your hand

‘Venti, writing this in a letter is much easier than saying this to your face. I am quite simply tired of your antics, no matter try to talk to you, you seem to always brush me off. Be it the nights you spend at the tavern, my general concern when you disappear for days at end just to tell me you were at the thousand winds temple, stormterrors lair, or windrise, no matter how much I tell you I checked all three. Being in a constant state of concern isn’t good for me, it’s emotionally draining and I’m terrified of finding you dead somewhere, despite your archon blood. By the time you read this I’ll be in Liyue where I’ll be staying with a friend for a while. Tell me I’m going somewhere you can’t follow, and I’ll tell you this is how I have felt many a night. I wish I could have kept loving you, [name]’

A harsh way to break up Venti admits to himself rereading the paper a few times before waking up

A dream?

Venti holds his chest, surely a dream couldn’t conjure such a horrific sinking feeling that makes him want to just vomit

Looking to your side of the bed for your comfort the sinking feeling intensifies when he doesn’t see you

So it wasn’t a dream? Venti doesn’t want to call on his kin, the thousand winds, again just to be told once more that you’re currently in Liyue sipping tea with this cousin you had mentioned in the letter 

The archon sits up in bed and takes deep breaths, he doesn’t want to explain to anybody that he had a panic attack over your horrific breakup letter, no no

After calming his breaths Venti steps out of bed with a shaky few steps before walking downstairs to engage in the typical breakout routine. Snacking. Maybe when you left you had elected to ignore some of the snacks you love to litter about your abode

When Venti walks in to the living room towards the kitchen he sees you nursing your head on the couch

“[name]?” he asks in almost disbelief

“Hm,” you answer before looking up to Venti “Oh hey love, sorry I’ve got a headache” you greet properly after a moment. Venti grins at you which causes you to tilt your head. Why is your headache so grin worthy? Weird...

“Would you like some paracetamol?” he asks walking beside you, you shake your head

“I just took some” you reply looking up at your partner “Though I’d love to rest my head on your thighs” you add. Venti more then obliges and settles down on the couch

“You know I had the strangest dream” Venti tells you after a prolonged amount of silence, you hum to let him know you’re listening “You left me” he says bluntly

Oh

Damn

You bring yourself up to Venti’s face with a smile and give him a kiss “I love you Venti, I wouldn’t leave you for even the prettiest lyre” you half console half jest

“That’s because the prettiest lyre is mine” Venti chuckles and you nod pressing another kiss to Venti’s lips

guys it’s 2.42am I’m so sorry if there’s grammatical errors, my brain isn’t catching up rn

[dropintomanga]

Manga I Enjoyed in 2022

Happy New Year, everyone! I know this is somewhat late, but better late than never. I originally wanted to do this in a video format like I did for my favorite 2021 manga. But after some health issues that started late last year and finally went away this month, I decided to write about my favorite manga of 2022 instead of recording myself in an awkward manner.

Here we go!

Honorable Mention: Choujin X by Sui Ishida - This title reminds me so much of Masakazu Katsura’s ZETMAN. It’s about a young man named Tokio Kurohara who suddenly becomes a supernatural being called a Choujin after being attacked by one in the street. Tokio then enters a world where he meets other Choujins, good and bad, and realizes that he’s part of a larger scheme that potentially involves him being a “god/savior” of all Choujins. I love the art and the story is fascinating. I feel that this is potentially Ishida at his finest when he’s not being rushed to create a fun story (which is what happened with Tokyo Ghoul: re). I’m glad that chapters of this series are somewhat sporadic as it allows time for a more structured story and one that I know Ishida is wanting to tell.

On to my top 5 of the year!

No.5 - Kaiju No. 8 by Naoya Matsumoto - After Spy x Family and Chainsaw Man, this is the next big breakout anime hit from Shueisha. Kafka Hibino was once a young man who wanted to become a kaiju-fighting soldier alongside his childhood friend, but instead is now a 30+-year old cleaner of kaiju remains. He one day encounters a certain powerful kaiju who enters his body. Kafka becomes a threat of humanity all while retaining his. He enters a kaiju defense force in order to control his abilities and protect those he cares about.

When I saw promotional art of the series posted all over France last year, I realized I had to check this series out. I’m so glad I did. The art is amazing, the story is intense, and the soldier outfits are really cool. Kaiju No. 8 satisfies any fan looking for something new that’s similar to Attack on Titan.

No. 4 - Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End by Kanehito Yamada and Tsukasa Abe - I don’t really hear many people talk about this series, but I feel this is one of the best fantasy stories I’ve read in a while. It also has one of the best manga heroines this decade so far. Frieren is a long-living elf who once saved the world from a demon king alongside a group of adventurers. 50 years later, she embarks on another journey to see off the hero who changed her life long after his death all while making note of humanity’s struggle to define themselves with the short life span they’re given.

I feel that this series is somewhat Yotsuba&!-ish in terms of having memorable chapters that are one-offs. However, when it gets to the major story arcs, Frieren excels in delivering gut punches. The flashback scenes are amazing and Frieren has a variety of facial expressions that make readers appreciate her. I have kept up with the Japanese releases and the story keeps getting better and better. This series has a way of making you think about human nature.

No. 3 - Akane-banashi by Yuki Suenaga and Takamasa Moue - I got into this series in the Fall after hearing Hideaki Anno and Eiichiro Oda praise it. This is arguably the best series in Weekly Shonen Jump right now and it’s not even a battle manga. Akane Osaki, a young girl whose father was a rakugo performer, is on a mission to become the best rakugo performer in all of Japan after her father was shamed in front of a major rakugo audience. It’s very refreshing and the hype does remind me of the early days of The Promised Neverland. 

This manga is a really good case of how to use art and panels to tell a very cool and well-paced story. I also love how the main character is written as she stands out among the many popular male Jump protagonists. I think what makes this series so good is how relatable the characters and setting are. There’s always something exciting happen in every chapter because of that.

No.2 - Sensei’s Pious Lie by Akane Torikai - This series isn’t everyone’s cup of tea and I can’t recommend this to anyone who’s experienced sexual trauma and hasn’t healed completely from it. But I can’t help but be enamored with seeing how messy the characters in this series are. Misuzu Hara, a teacher, is a victim of sexual abuse by her best friend’s husband. One day, she finds out a male student of hers is interested in her. Misuzu then learns the student is also a victim of sexual abuse and the two become involved in a complicated entanglement that affects everyone around them. 

This is a very uncomfortable read, but I understood what Torikai was trying to say. When it comes to love and sex, people get caught up with the worst aspects of both in terrifying ways. And there’s ways to overcome them when possible. People are often known as monsters to many are still human beings at their core. You can still care about someone and want them out of your life for good. There’s no one to root in this series and I’m glad Kodansha USA brought this work over because sex (and especially sexual violence) is very often a difficult topic to talk about and life is sadly never that black or white.

No.1 - Goodbye, Eri by Tatsuki Fujimoto - Another Fujimoto one-shot on what it means to live in the face of loss. I’ve written about this one-shot in the past and the last pages still stick out to me to this day. I appreciate how Fujitomo uses the main character in a way that shows how a major loss of a relationship can affect someone even when they get older.

I want to remember people who will eventually leave me and celebrate their lives. I just hate how everyone is pressed to move on and not process whatever grief they will experience over their lifetime. Goodbye, Eri is highly relevant to everyone today because there’s only so much one can take when it comes to death and when we don’t take the time to talk about it in a productive way with people who will listen, we lose what makes humanity beautiful. In a time where some folks are talking about immortality and living on via technology, this manga reminds me that what we really want from life is genuine and unconditional love from people.

I hope you enjoyed this list and here’s to a fun 2023 full of exciting manga titles to read!

[dragonmuse]

In the LH&K verse and prompt fills it's been hinted that lucius is self conscious/ insecure about his physical appearance at times? Would love to see some moments of Izzy or Pete (or both!!!) reassuring/ comforting/ reacting to Lucius feeling insecure!

(both! Both is good! First half is just a few weeks into Pete and Lucius' relationship, second half is between I Want to Break Free and Laugh with the Sinners)

“It’s hot as hell out there,” Pete pointed out in what he thought was a reasonable manner. “You cannot be serious about wearing layers. Or even a long sleeved shirt.” 

“It’s my whole look,” Lucius folded his arms over his chest. “Enjoy my self-expression. Also I’m going to be in an air-conditioned bar all night that’s set to ‘if it gets above freezing my makeup will melt’ temperature.” 

“You’re running around all night. I’ve seen how sweaty you get. It can’t feel good.” 

“Rude,” Lucius scoffed and started looking for his socks in his overnight bag. “You’re not supposed to tell someone they look gross, you know.”  

“I don’t think that’s what I said,” Pete frowned. “You look uncomfortable, not bad.” 

“You’re all uncomfortable on nights like this, what does it matter?” 

Pete watched him for a long minute. They’d only been dating for two months or so and he wasn’t sure how much he could push this or if he should even bother. Maybe it was just how Lucius preferred to dress. He certainly half-lived in his favorite blazer and most of his outfits had a general sameness to them. Out of drag, Pete was much the same so it was hard to get to get on a high horse about it. 

But... 

“I like when you look comfortable,” he said. “You smile more and your face is all....you’re always hot, but you’re really beautiful like that.” 

Lucius stopped moving and then he turned to him very slowly. “Please tell me you didn’t just say I’d be prettier if I smiled more.” 

And Pete had apparently stepped on a landmine. Boom. Wonderful. 

“No! Yes? Shit. That’s not what I meant.” 

“Oh, please explain,” Lucius all, but growled. Woe betide anyone who thought Lucius was the easiest target on staff.  

“I mean I like when you’re happy,” he tried again. “I like knowing you’re okay and doing your thing and not...dunno. Suffering for no good reason?” 

“...yeah,” the fight went out of him. “Sorry. I know what you meant. I don’t exactly drown in compliments.” 

“I don’t know why,” Pete shook his head. “You’re ridiculously cute, you know that right?” 

“I am aware that I can project that image,’ Lucius said carefully and sat down beside Pete, their thighs touching. 

“Yeah, you cannot actually Jedi mind trick me into thinking you're attractive,” Pete pointed out. “I told you day one that I thought you were my type.” 

“I’m also painfully pale, noodle-armed and still prone to breakouts like I’m fourteen,” he groaned. “I don’t want to wander stripped down. It’s like wearing a sign that says I’ve never worked out a day in my life.” 

Pete stared at him. 

“What?” Lucius snapped. 

“That’s how you see yourself?” He asked incredulously.

“...sometimes,” he mumbled. 

“But you’re,...” Pete looked for the right words. Lucius always had good words for things. He loved them and Pete was always trying to piece something together that would at least not sound like total nonsense. Not that Lucius seemed to care. Maybe they were alike in more ways that he’d originally thought. “I started shaving my head because I was balding.” 

“Uh, yeah?” Lucius blinked. “I figured that out, believe it or not. You can tell through the stubble and all.” 

“And I thought that it was over for me,” Pete plowed on. “Like at clubs and things. Because at least before I looked young before that. There was nothing left to hide behind.” 

“You don’t-” 

“Shh, my turn,” he chided. “I thought that and I was wrong. Plenty of guys like a bald head. I didn’t have to like it for that to be true.” 

“Oh,” Lucius reached out and ran a hand over Pete’s scalp which felt great, but he didn’t lean into it. “I like it.” 

“And I like your arms. They’re strong enough to do what needs doing. And I like your skin, it’s soft and pretty. I never notice your pimples unless you point them out and even then, who cares? I still get them too. Just being human.” 

“Huh,” Lucius’ hand drifted down to Pete’s face, cupping his cheek which also felt good. “I guess it’s pretty stupid to complain to you about not wanting people to see me, huh?” 

“It isn’t. I’ve had my whole life to make peace with my face. Doesn’t mean you can’t feel a way about yours.” 

Lucius leaned in and kissed him, then drew back with a sigh. “It is hot as balls out. I’ll leave the jacket here.” 

Several years later 

“What are you doing?” Izzy asked from the bed. He was sitting up, laptop on his lap, bare chested. 

Lucius had snuck in on Izzy’s day off for a nooner and been pleasantly surprised by the warm reception. Generally, Izzy wasn’t open to surprise changes in schedule, but this had gone smoothly enough. 

“Putting my clothes back on?” Lucius frowned. “What’s it look like?” 

“Thought you were just going to go hang out with Stede.” 

“Yep,” he reached for his jacket. “And?” 

“And....just seems....” Izzy searched the air for the right words apparently and Lucius ignored him in favor of giving the jacket a good shake to get out some floor-born wrinkles. “Like a lot of layers for lunch.” 

“You don’t want me to cover up the tank top,” Lucius surmised.  

“...yes.” Izzy admitted. 

Lucius had worn just the white undershirt for most of their activities today and Izzy had shown his appreciation as best he could without the use of his hands. It had been fun, but that had been a very much private, inside bit of pleasure. 

“I think Stede would have a stroke if he saw my naked shoulders,” Lucius laughed it off. 

“Doubt that,” Izzy said. 

“...you’re not going to take a perfectly served opportunity to make a joke about Stede dying? Are you sick or something?” 

“Seems a shame is all,” Izzy’s eyes dropped back to his laptop. “Didn’t think you ever did anything because of what someone else might think.” 

“I-” Lucius stopped mid-pulling on his shirt. “Come again?” 

“You’re pretty clear about doing your own thing all the time. So what do you care if someone has thoughts about your shoulders being out on a hot day?” Izzy started typing, apparently only half-paying attention to the conversation at all.  “I mean, I’d put on some sunscreen cause you burn like a motherfucker, but otherwise....”  

“I like flirting in public, excuse the fuck out of me if I put myself in the best position for that,” he grumbled. 

“I will bet you whatever you want that you pull more in the tank then with the shirt on,” Izzy glanced up at him.  

“You’re on. I want one of those stupid Gordon Ramsey level complicated recipes for dinner next week when I win.” 

“Fine. What do I get if I win?” 

“Which you won’t,” Lucius let the button down drop to the floor. “But let’s say....you can finally take that nude picture of me you asked about.” 

“Agreed,” Izzy said quickly. 

“How are we measuring this?” 

“I trust you to be honest about it,” Izzy shrugged and went back to typing. “Have a nice lunch. Bring sunglasses, it’s bright out there.” 

Lucius: This cannot be happening. 

Izzy: what’s that? 

Lucius: I have been trying to get the new waiter at this place’s attention for weeks. Stede tried to convince me he was straight because I was being so pathetic about it. 

Izzy: and? 

Lucius: and he gave me his number on a cocktail napkin under my drink just now like I’m in a Sex and the City episode. 

Izzy: You’re a Samantha, right? 

Lucius: how do you even know that reference? This day makes no sense. 

Izzy: Fang called me a Miranda once and I was pretty sure it was an insult so I had to do research. 

Lucius: How much research? 

Izzy: Pete is a Charlotte and Stede is a Carrie. Eddy is Big.  

Lucius:  So Miranda and Samantha are having a nude photo session is what I’m getting from this conversation. 

Izzy: You can wear the tank if you want. And I’ll still make you beef wellington. Always wanted to try that anyway. 

Lucius: i want to put you in a jar and study you like a bug sometimes. But sure, we can do both Tuesday. 

[falsegoodnight]

a new header??? it matches better <3 these are the fics I read or reread and enjoyed this month! like last time, i’m separating it into different sections: main list, wips, and non-1d. rereads will be included in the main list and marked with a star (*). 

*note: this list encompasses the fics i’ve read from the 1st to the 28th only

—

main list ~

✰ Don’t Wait Up by reliablyimperfect | NR | 1k

Without Harry’s warmth next to him, he felt the chill of the air creep over his skin. He tugged the blanket down from where Harry kept one draped over the back of the couch for him, grateful. With the blanket, he instantly felt warmer, but it backfired when his eyes began to droop again. Trying to keep his eyes open was impossible, and he was consciously aware of how long his blinks were becoming. They stay closed longer and longer until, eventually, they didn’t open again.

so soft and sweet and lovely! made my heart feel so warm <3 will return to this for some quick comfort in the future!

✰ my ugly mouth kept running by @hadestyles | E | 4k

Sometimes second chances are more important than the first.

rori’s lush writing + abo + exes to lovers = absolute perfection. my fic cameo gives it a bonus too :’) definitely one of my rori favs 

✰ i’ve loved you three summers now honey, i want them all by @softloubabie | M | 4k

The restaurant was small and bright, soft colors filled the walls and tables and fairy lights hung from everywhere. From what Harry had read, the food wasn’t overly expensive but it was still comparable to what you would get at one of the more expensive places. If Harry could he would take Louis to the biggest most expensive and extravagant restaurants to do what he planned to tonight, but this would do.

After being led to their table Harry nervously tapped his jacket pocket, sighing in relief when he felt the small box still there. Tonight was the night. He couldn’t wait till it was time to surprise Louis with all the gifts he got for him. Then finally the big surprise.

so cute and sweet! their kids were so adorable and the proposal so lovely!! they love each other so much <3

✰ love me in between the future and the past by navigator & quitter | E | 11k

Harry's scared of history repeating itself.

this honestly hurt to read but in such a raw and emotional way?? was mad at harry and then sad for him :( this writer duo’s fics never fail to amaze me!

✰ sunshine on my mind by @raspberryoatss | E | 13k

Louis visits Harry in Portland

this was so sweet and lovely! the perfect addition to this wonderful universe! pip’s characterizations and fluff never fails to make my heart feel warm <3

✰ rapture in the dark by @stylinsonsupporter | T | 13k

Harry Styles is a breakout musician who has shed his boyband label in favor of embracing his inner brooding rockstar. His PR team think that his rebrand is the perfect time for Harry to come out of the closet and have devised the perfect plan for doing so. Enter Louis Tomlinson, up and coming (and very openly homosexual) model whose public image as America's Sweetheart is the perfect foil for Harry's new edge. From a PR standpoint, it's a dream come true - a power couple that can slowly coax the public into accepting Harry's altered image. The only problem? They hate each other.

always love a good fake dating au and this is no exception! and model louis >> really enjoyed this!

✰ Maybe, Baby* by thoughtsickles | M | 16k | mpreg

It all feels too easy, too good to be true. It all feels like a scene from Louis' daydreams, the kind of life he'd always imagined he'd have when he was younger and bored at his momma's work, sneaking around the hallways of the maternity ward until the nurses let him in to hold the babies. He'd felt so important being allowed to touch them. He'd told them stories of the lives they were going to have, houses with nice wallpaper that wasn't peeling, yards filled with sunshine and flowers and grass that never went yellow. A hammock to nap in, cuddled up with his husband.

You can't stay here, he tells himself, but Baby doesn't want to listen.

have reread this one quite a bit of times now and it still makes me so happy <3 this Louis and Harry deserve the world <333

✰ Let Me Inside by reliablyimperfect | E | 18k

Louis is Harry’s boss, but Harry is the boss of Louis. 

loved this one! really enjoyed the balance between h&l and how they maintained their dynamic in subtle ways outside of the bedroom while also keeping it separate. very much enjoyed the jealousy as well <3

✰ a scintilla of predilection by @dehydratedpoolfics | T | 20k

There, in the far back of the room, next to the only available seat left, is none other than Harry Styles. Harry, who grew up next door to him, who knew all his secrets as a child and played FIFA with him on Saturday mornings after he would spend the night Friday evenings every week, whose curly hair would tickle his nose as they held each other during bitter cold nights that made his room glow a haunting blue.

love ex-childhood friends with misunderstandings!! louis was so cute and i loved his poetry <3 harry too was so stupid but so smitten and lovely :’) really enjoyed this!

✰ Keeping The Flame Alive by @crazyupsetter​ | E | 20k

Recording with One Direction never felt like this. There’s a couple reasons for that, Harry thinks. One is that they did most of their recording on the road, rushed and in busses and hotel rooms, never in one place long enough to really get an argument going. The other, larger and more important one, is that back then he had the sweetest, meanest little omega around to distract him from all of that frustration.

The first time around, when he’d been recording his debut solo album, it hit him pretty hard. He likes to think he’s better adjusted to it now, but frustration is warring under his skin nonetheless. He doesn’t want to be told what to do most of the time, and he especially doesn’t want to be told what to do when it comes to his music.

What he does want right now is that sweet, mean little omega right in front of him with his mouth on Harry’s cock. Unfortunately, the best he’s got is his own hand and a shared toilet. So. That’s really not going to work.

✰ like it’s a game* by @soldouthaz | E | 32k

There is little Harry hates more than truth or dare.

And Louis.

queen of enemies to lovers! it’s been a while since i’ve reread this but too absolutely no surprise, it’s just as amazing as always <3 sarah never misses!

✰ Too Young To Know by @2tiedships2 | M | 35k

Harry doesn’t present as an alpha… until he does.

really enjoyed this as per usual! exes to lovers is my jam and the added angst of Louis dating someone else at the beginning... love <3

✰ Some Things Take Root* by  navigator & quitter | E | 50k

Louis' ex doesn't get jealous of anyone besides Harry. Harry helps Louis use that to his advantage.

stumbled upon this randomly and decided to reread on a whim... ended up staying up to read it in one sitting! so good!

✰ Safe and Sound (You’ll Always Be) by @all-these-larrythings | E | 58k

When a failed case and a guilty conscience leaves Harry more than a little lost, his boss presents him with a new, less taxing assignment to help him cope. An escape from all the madness is just what Harry needs to get his life back on track. It's just too bad his new client has a grin like the devil, a pair of electric eyes that Harry simply can't get over, and no intention whatsoever of letting him catch a break.

i don’t know how i’ve never read this before??? it was absolutely amazing though! perfect blend of humor and fluff and tension and angst <3

✰ Mind Over Matter (You Under Me) by @youreyesonlarry | E | 74k

It’s dark outside when Harry finishes practice for the day. 

the slow burn in this fic killed me - which is to say, it was perfect! loved how they progressed from working together to being friends to something more and how much they genuinely cared for each other! the hockey was so fun too!

✰ Call Out My Name by frenchkiss | E | 102k

Apparently, it's bad PR to fall in love with the omega you hired to help you through your rut.

Harry Styles begs to differ.

ellen truly knocked it out of the park with this one!! had everything i could ever want: abo, famous/non-famous, fluff, humor, angst, drama, and more! i loved it from beginning to end!

wips ~

✰ ‘cause all our tomorrows lead the way by @loubellies | E | 64k | 7/11

So maybe Louis’ in over his head.

He had signed up for the Bachelor on a whim after his second bottle of wine and well, here he is. He’s just been announced as the twenty-sixth Bachelor and his ass is sweating. Like, literally sweating. He’s positive that if he was to turn around, the entirety of Bachelor Nation would get a nice peek of his ass sweat.

am thoroughly enjoying each chapter!! it’s been a wild ride so far and although things are currently calm, i am still on edge!! but i trust mar with my life <3

✰ Truth Behind Golden Eyes by @lwtisloved | E | 83k | 8/16 

Louis is a royal servant born with magic in a kingdom where his sole existence is outlawed with a war he has no idea he has a part in upon him. Harry is the prince on whom the burden of mending a broken kingdom falls upon and he might be willing to risk it all for a simple servant if only he admitted it to himself.

caught up last night! still really enjoying every chapter and can’t wait to see what happens next!! things are *happening* with h&l and answers are being given!! (love the jealousy too!)

non-1d ~

✰ Keep Me Close (I Need Your Faith) by @princelouisau | E | 23k

Somewhere along the way he had fallen in love and in doing so, had broken the one rule he knew he couldn’t come back from. As quickly as he realised, he decided that he must never dare speak it. He resigned himself to loving Draco in silence.

first foray into reading drarry... and, to no one’s surprise, i loved it! beautiful writing as always and beautiful atmosphere! it’s really not a shock that i fell for these characters and their story when danielle is behind it <3 it had me entranced from beginning to end!!

finally, i myself actually posted a fic this month:

my fics ~

✰ yesterday came suddenly by me | E | 49k | mpreg 

Harry the deadliest member of the NYC assassins’ guild, is forced to face a seemingly impossible task in hopes of finally leaving the underground behind for good, but when ghosts from the past come back to haunt him, escaping the darkness becomes that much harder.

If you read any of these beautiful works of art, remember to leave kudos and comment to show your appreciation!

*if i made any errors, please let me know :)

enjoy!

[imagine-hogwarts]

An uncontainable open revolution - Part 9

Pairing: FredxHermione (Fluff)

Summary: A couple of snapshots adding to fifth year canon. Hermione does start to see the value of the twins’ products in a Hogwarts that under Umbridge starts feeling less and less like the Hogwarts they know.

2.418 words

____

School started the same way it had ended, with only the difference of Harry now having to take Occlumency lessons with Snape and Hermione having to feel like a bad friend for endorsing Dumbledore’s decision. At times, even though she felt like she did understand Harry’s feelings, the common room became too much for her to handle.

The corridor’s had become a weird purgatory, constantly swaying back and forth between the muted, controlled, decree-ridden Hogwarts Umbridge was creating and the messy legal vacuum that was the result of the students’ more or less silent protest, in which the twins did not play an unimportant role.

It felt wild to her that only a few months ago she had actually gone to the trouble of inspecting their products for safety. It felt ridiculous, seeing how far they had taken it all. Under any other circumstances, Hermione would have lost it over the overwhelming amount of work their business resulted in regarding her prefect responsibilities. But at this point there was nothing less of interest to her than helping Umbridge and Filch in suppressing what at this point had turned into an uncontainable open revolution. It was a morbid kind of fascination seeing how every day a new toy seemed to appear to add to the mess that wanted nothing else than show Umbridge where she could shove her inquisitions.

The library was one of the few places that appeared to be untouched by the pandemonium outside and so, as she always did, Hermione fled into her books, into the preparations for her O.W.L.s.

But she was distracted. She got distracted a lot recently. She could see the change in energy at the DA meetings since the mass breakout from Askaban a month ago. Everything had started feeling more real, she could tell. It was one thing to say you believed Harry’s side of the story. But a completely different ballgame to see the lengths to which Voldemort would and could go, how strong he had gotten already. Hermione felt powerless. She just hoped for her plan with the Quibbler to work out. She hoped it would make Harry feel better. She hoped it would maybe even shake things up for the ministry a little bit.

„We have got to stop seeing us like that.“, she heard a voice behind her and grabbed for her wand instinctively, only to have the book she had been working with fall shut.

It was Fred. She breathed out through her mouth, placing her wand hand over her racing heart. „You startled me. Seeing us like what?“

He shrugged. „Sorry.“, he said, ignoring the rest of her question. She couldn’t help but wonder. Like what? It wasn’t like the library was a place she had ever seen Fred Weasley before.

„What are you reading?“ She turned around to look at the title of the book, in which she would have to find her page again later. „It’s ‚Advanced Transfigurations, Letters M through S‘. Why? Are you looking for a recommendation?“

„I prefer books with less than four hundred pages, Hermione. Besides, I’ve already read that.“, he nodded towards the book. Hermione raised one eyebrow. „Really?“

„No. But I was“, he replied, flashing her a boyish smile „looking for some stuff on potions. You don’t suppose you could point me in the right direction?“

„Why don’t you ask Madam Pince?“, Hermione replied, putting her wand back next to her notes.

„She usually isn’t particularly inclined to help me.“

„I wonder why.“

„Must be my intimidating demeanor.“

„Or the fact that you are chronically incapable of volume control, apparently.“

„Hm, no, I don’t think that’s it.“, he said scratching his chin before taking a step towards her. „So, will you help me if I whisper, then?“, he asked, leaning forward a little, stabilizing himself on the table next to her.

„Maybe.“, she replied, feeling obligated to match his tone of voice and leaning back the tiniest bit before catching herself. This felt like a situation to stand her ground in. „What are you looking for and why?“

„Oh no, I didn’t sign up for an inquiry. I could have gone to Madam Pince for that.“

Hermione shrugged. „Be my guest.“, she said before turning towards her notes again.

„I’d prefer to convince you, actually.“, he said, almost hastily. Hermione furrowed her brows. That sounded a lot like something Madam Pince wouldn’t be prepared to help him with.

„You’re not planning on drugging Filch again, are you?“, she whispered urgently. Would he have deserved it? Yes. But there was a line she wasn’t prepared to cross.

„No. Though we can’t guarantee for him not being caught in the crossfire.“

„Crossfire?“, Hermione repeated and her eyes widened. „This is about your fireworks!“

Fred cocked his head to one side. „Wrong again. This is something else. Dare I say, something a lot more refined than fireworks. I’m just looking for a way to make it have a… lasting effect.“

Hermione looked down at her hands. „All of this does not sound particularly trustworthy, you know? Besides, don’t you know your way around here as well?“

„Not like you. And if I told you that it is nothing to be used on students or teachers?“, Fred tried again.

„I thought you didn’t need anyone’s blessing anymore.“, she said.

„I’m not asking for your blessing, I’m asking for your help.“, he corrected. „And it’s more of an accessory to Hogwarts itself, you could say.“

Hermione looked up at him, locking eyes. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t go looking for his information anyway, even if she refused to help. Besides, she could not deny, a certain level of curiosity had taken hold of her. And something told her, that had been exactly what Fred had been playing at. „Fine.“, she agreed. „But I do need to know more.“

„You are unique, Hermione, you know that?“, he said, grinning at her widely before continuing, seemingly not noticing her flushed cheeks. „We call them Portable Swamps.“

It took a second for Hermione to get a hold of her giggle and she waited for Madam Pince to swoosh around the corner to belittle her. But nothing happened. Fred frowned. „Don’t tell me it is not an incredible name.“

„Oh, it is. Very descriptive.“

„That’s what I thought. We already have the basic formula down. Now all we need is a way to make it stick.“

„Make it stick. As in make it unremovable?“ „Or as close to it as it gets.“

„That does sound a lot like it’s going to hurt Filch, actually.“, she couldn’t help but smile. „Emotionally if nothing else.“

„It’s a risk we’ll have to take.“

„Why do you want it to be a potion?“

„What?“

„The unremoveablility. Does it have to be a potion?“

Fred furrowed his eyes. „I suppose not.“

„Because there are charms for that. Sticking charms, resistance charms, protection charms. I wouldn’t go for a potion on this.“

There was a long silence. Long enough for Hermione to have to look away from the strange expression in Fred’s eyes, practically seeing the cogwheels spin inside his mind.

„You are a genius.“, he said matter-of-factly, briefly forgetting to whisper, still staring at her and gripping her shoulders as if she had just found him the cure for every disease ever to be seen. She shrugged. „I know.“, she said, trying to sound calm and collected.

„I will credit you on the product if this plan works out.“, he promised.

„Maybe discuss that with George first.“, she suggested, fumbling with her wand on the table next to her awkwardly.

„Speaking of George.“, Fred added and something changed in his voice. Almost as if whispering suddenly didn’t take effort anymore. „He will probably never let me live this down.“

Before Hermione got the chance to ask what George was going to not let him live down, Fred gripped the side of her face before taking a long step towards her and pressing his lips to hers.

Hermione couldn’t tell if her mind had gone completely blank or if her thoughts were racing a million miles a minute, too quickly for her to make sense of them. It took her a second to understand that the warmth she suddenly felt in her body had to be coming from his chest that was pressed flush against hers. Or maybe it was coming from within.

Something shifted. Maybe he did. And then she felt her lips moving in synchronicity with his. His breath tasted sweet and for a second she wondered if he had been testing some new product before finding her here. But the thought got lost somewhere behind the overwhelming feeling of letting go of the breath you had been holding on to for far too long.

A shiver moved up her body from the base of her spine. Was his hand on her back or on her arm. On her face? Something was touching her back, she thought. It took a second for her to realized that she was pushed against the edge of the desk she had been working on. She remembered that she hadn’t been able to focus properly. Had been distracted. It felt irrelevant now in comparison to the overwhelming feeling of omnipresent sensation wrapping her up and tying her to the man in front of her.

His lips felt a little rough, like he had been biting them. His hands were coarse too, her face feeling hypersensitive beneath his touch on her cheek. His other hand had moved to her waist, holding on to her as if he was afraid she could fall. Or disappear. Hermione didn’t mind. She felt her hand reach for the one on her cheek and cup it, the other scraping down the front of his school robes with sensitive fingertips. He was taller than her. Tall enough that she had to stand up on her toes to still reach his lips when she pushed herself closer to him. It felt like electrical wires but also like the most tender embrace and it kindled a small flame inside her stomach. His lips were gentle, their movement slow. Not in a controlled way but like the waves of a lake. Hermione briefly wondered if she was overthinking, then lost the thought again.

She felt him breathe heavily close to her face, his hand on her side tensing up as he pushed both their bodies against the edge of the table and then released her, pulling away.

She felt unable to open her eyes, her hand still on his chest that felt hot through his shirt. She could hear her own breathing slowly calm down, though her racing heart didn’t seem to have gotten the message yet. She heard Fred clear his throat, letting his hand glide down from her cheek to her neck. Her eyes fluttered open. She felt the heat on her face.

Fred opened his mouth, shaped into a crooked smile, but not a word escaped his lips. The lips that had just kissed her, she thought. She cocked her head to the side, still looking up at him, slowly letting her hand wander up his chest to his shoulder. There was room between them for little more than her hand. Hermione felt the almost unbearable urge to close the gap again.

„Don’t say anything about my volume control ever again.“, he murmured, grinning at her in a way that looked slightly off from his usual mocking demeanor. The change filled her with confidence. „Because I tried really hard right then.“

She smiled a shaky smile. „Glad to see how much you appreciate my help on your swamp.“, she replied.

„Actually, I’m not sure it was all about charms and potions.“, he said, grinning his boyish smile that didn’t seem to fit with the rest of him, now that she had gotten to know him a little closer. The thought made her cheeks burn.

„Still, I better go. Business is calling.“ The pride in his voice was laced with something else.

„Funny, I didn’t hear anything.“ It had been just a thought slipping out and she added hastily: „I’ll see you later.“, without making any effort to back up and let go of him.

There was a long silence in which neither of them moved. „And don’t forget to run my accreditation past George when you see him.“

Fred grinned. „And what do I get in return?“, he asked. She lifted her eyebrows, moving back half a step. „You get my expertise. Last shelf on the left. One of the centre two boards.“, she waved her hand in the general direction of where she knew the books on advanced charms and jinxes were kept and used the opportunity to look away from the man in front of her. She felt on top of her thoughts again, back in her head. A part of her missed the chaos that he had dug up in her mind already. But she wasn’t going to tell him now, she thought, grinning triumphantly.

Fred sighed demonstratively. „I guess that will have to do for now.“ He grinned leaning toward her, only to be interrupted by an aggressive „Sssshhhhhh!“ that appeared dangerously close to the Transfiguration aisle. Hermione suppressed a chuckle as Fred disappeared around the corner quicker than she could blink.

It was a strange sensation, almost like he was still there on her lips, distracting her from what was quickly becoming the least productive studying session she had experienced this year. Only when she picked up her quill and flipped back to the page she had been reading did she realize that her hands were shaking. Hermione usually prided herself on her orderly and clean handwriting. She just wouldn’t show these particular notes to anyone, she decided. And only when she lifted her hand to her cheek — the cheek Fred had held — did she realize that she was grinning widely, so much so that she was beyond glad to know that she was alone in the library.

The light from the windows told her that it had to be past dinner time. Funnily enough, she usually forgot about dinner because she was so focussed on her studies. How the tables had turned, she thought, feeling an odd combination of guilt for her distracted state and nervous excitement that manifested in her almost knocking over the blown-out but still hot candle over her notes. She shook her head over herself.

[jerryb2]

I mean….you all knew this was coming ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ : the Star Wars Art of one Mr. Drew Struzan. 

And look, the man has done so much and has such a diverse portfolio that Star Wars is only one very small part of his career. If you want to explore some of his other works, then might I suggest that you check out his website. 

As for me here, we’ll be sticking strictly to his SW art. Now, with that out of the way, here we go…

*cracks knuckles*

I have to admit that before I really started to dig into this, I didn’t realize just how many Bantam Era (and beyond) Star Wars books this man has illustrated. Nearly 50 titles, ranging from novels to comics, short stories & even an RPG supplement. 🤯 

And so, after much consideration, I decided to just pull all the titles that feature his art off my bookshelf and take a few pics for you guys:

First off, I just want to point out that I don’t have every book he’s ever illustrated. Some of them are just harder than hard to find, are hilariously expensive, or I just don’t have an edition that features his art prominently - you’ll see what I mean. Right off the bat though, you can see that he was really hitting his stride in the mid-90′s, with all but a handful of these coming out between ‘94 & ‘99. One of the highlights from this time for me, is The Callista Trilogy.

I just want to stress that The Callista Trilogy is a highlight for me only because of its gorgeous cover art. 🤣 Other than that, this book series needs to go lay down. 

Anyway, the designs are all really striking and even after all these years, absolutely iconic. And you can really see Struzan’s distinct visual style at play here; not a painting in the same vein as something from Dave Doorman, and not a simple trace. Rather, something that is stylized in a very particular, very subtle way, almost to the point where it appears photo-realistic at first glance. Beautiful.

Next up is this trio of trilogies (good use of words, me), collected in these Science Fiction Book Club (SFBC) hardcovers: 

Once again, these covers are just striking, particularly The Black Fleet Crisis. This is actually what I was referring to when I said that I don’t always have the best editions for a Drew Struzan appreciation post. 😅 

Because these are hardcover collections of paperback books, we actually miss out on a good bit of the art. For these SFBC special editions, the publisher just took all three and basically photoshopped the best bits of each one together. The one that suffers the most here is obviously The Corellian Trilogy, where they didn’t even try to blend everything together, and instead just separated everything into columns. I don’t personally mind it (and I do love having the hardcover editions of these books) but if you want to see the covers as they were originally intended, just pickup those mass market paperbacks. 🙂

There’s a lot more to get through, so I’ll just hit the highlights here; even though he didn’t illustrate The Thrawn Trilogy (that was Tom Jung, who I personally think did an okay-ish job at best), he did an absolutely amazing job with the follow-up, The Hand of Thrawn Duology in ‘98 & ‘99:

I’ve always loved these covers. And narratively speaking, they really do serve as one last hurrah on the Bantam Era. Oh, and also please note, Mara Jade on the cover of Vision of the Future, just as Zahn originally described her. ❤❤❤

If you step back and look at Struzan’s work as a whole, it’s all incredibly unified. I bring this up here because even though some of these are books relatively ‘meh’ worthy, Struzan maintained a level of quality that belied the mediocrity contained within. And also to say that he was definitely busy, particularly in 1994:

That’s right - all of these released in ‘94, within a few months of one another. These covers man… *chef’s kiss*

And look I’m sorry, I just can’t help myself: The Crystal Star was a hilarious joke until we all realized they were serious about it. 😳

Alright, that’s a little on the harsh side; it’s not nearly as bad as most make it out to be, and Waru as a source for unlimited power (citation needed 👀😉) isn’t any more ridiculous than the 50 other post-Palpy, hair-brained Imperial schemes that everybody else cooked up, so I guess it fits. And besides, I really wanna be nice to Vonda McIntyre here, but this book was just so so boring. 😴

*clears throat* Moving on, here we have a couple Barnes & Noble hardcover collections of The Jedi Prince Series:

The same thing applies here; cover art photoshopped from across 6 different YA novels to get these. They don’t look bad, far from it. But rather this series has some things that people would rather forget about, namely a supposed son of Palpatine (spoiler: he wasn’t) named Triclops who had - wait for it - 3 eyes. 

Like Tien. From DBZ. Yep. 🤦‍♂️

Moving further down the list, we have yet another pair of iconic cover designs, being I, Jedi (the only Star Wars novel written in the first person, and an appropriate riff on Isaac Asimov’s I, Robot - yes ladies & gentlemen, that is as clever as Star Wars gets) and The New Rebellion.

Classics, no doubt….but for reals, did anybody else ever wonder why the X-Wing on the cover of I, Jedi is missing an S-Foil? Or how that one slipped through??? 👀

Ah, at last we arrive at what is arguably Struzan’s most famous work; the covers for Shadows of the Empire & The Star Wars Trilogy: Special Edition.

It’s hard to overstate just how important Shadows of the Empire really was for Star Wars as a brand. In an era where SW books were already extremely popular, the Shadows of the Empire Multimedia Project basically served as a breakout hit and reignited interest in SW media across the board. This was in no small part due to the striking imagery captured on its cover - are you seeing a pattern here?

This success actually renewed Lucas’ interest in a theatrical re-release of the OT in 1997….which of course, feature more beautiful art from Drew Struzan:

These are my OG Special Edition VHS tapes from back in the day. I watched these so damn much as a kid. In fact, they’re basically the whole reason that I’m here, annoying the shit out of everybody today. 😁

After the Bantam Era concluded & the Star Wars publishing license went to Del Rey, Struzan did progressively fewer pieces for SW media. Here we see his contribution for the latter half of the Last of the Jedi YA series, and his kick-ass cover art for the Darth Maul comic: 

And when I say that Struzan did progressively fewer pieces for Star Wars, I am of course omitting his turn as the poster artist for the freaking Prequel Trilogy: 

Say what you will about the films, but these poster designs are nothing short of genius. 

Look guys, it would be pretty easy for me to downplay Struzan’s Star Wars portfolio as just one small part of his incredible career. But my dudes, this is literally just the tip of the iceberg. The man has been a professional illustrator for over 50 years, and his art has delighted and inspired generations. From Star Wars to Indian Jones, and from Back to the Future to Blade Runner - Drew Struzan has played an integral part in shaping popular culture. 

Here’s to you, sir. 🍻

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Ateez: GF Having PMS

PMS: Pre-menstrual syndrome. Aka, those 1-2 weeks before a girl gets her period, they have symptoms like acne, bloating, cramps, food cravings, fatigue, increased sexual libido, mood swings, tender breasts and irritability among other things. It's not actually when you are on your period, for those of you who don't know. Also girls: it's totally normal and don't feel bad about any of these symptoms or talking about them ♡♡♡♡

Kim Hongjoong:

Hongjoong didn't know what was going on with you. One minute you're happy and wanting to cuddle, and then a minute later you're mad for no reason. It was making him angry honestly. You two have been dating for almost a month, he thought you were past the push and pull game already.

"What is wrong with you Y/N?!" He blurted out one day when your mood swings were too much.

He felt really bad when you started crying though.

"I'm sorry... it's not your fault. I get like this when I'm PMSing and I don't even notice...I'm sorry." You said while wiping tears out of your face.

Now it clicked in his brain and he felt even more bad. Carefully he sat down next to you and rubbed your back.

"Hey it's ok, don't worry. I didn't mean to raise my voice at you, so I'm sorry for that."

He pulled you into a hug and just held you there till you stopped crying.

"Better now?" He asked once you calmed down to which you nodded.

"Good. Now do you wanna go get ice cream?"

He got better at dealing with your mood swings every time they happened. He learned to back off when you were irritated and to hold you when you were sad.

Park Seonghwa:

Technically you weren't on your period, but for some reason you only got cramps during PMS and they were horrible.

All Seonghwa heard was "cramps" and he was very much on it. He ran out the door to the nearest store, bought a heating pad, bought chamomile tea to make for you, ibuprofen for the pain and even picked up a cute teddy bear for you.

So then Seonghwa handed you the bear while he placed the the heating pad on your tummy and gave you a glass of water for you to take one of the pills. The tea was already being brewed in the kitchen. Making sure it wasn't too hot to burn you, he took it to you and insisted on helping you sip on it.

"Are you feeling any better?" He asked you with a lot of tenderness.

You nodded and smiled at him. "Yes I am. Thank you, you're the perfect boyfriend."

You asked him to cuddle with you, which he was happy to oblige. However he made sure not to squeeze you too hard, worried that he might accidentally put pressure on your tummy and make your cramps worse.

Jeong Yunho:

You were fatigued, just laying on your bed, blankets covering you. It was well past 11 a.m and you still didn't feel the energy to get up. Your plan was to lay in bed for the whole day, or if you had to get up, do very minimal activity.

Suddenly a loud door slamming open and a loud:

"Honey! I'm home!!"

Yunho's energetic voice resonated through the house.

"Baby?! Where are you?!" He asked loudly.

You groaned, unable to even tell him where you were.

"There you are! So I got the day off and I thought we could- is something wrong?" He was worried when he saw your low state.

"I'm just really tired that's all. I don't feel like getting out of bed." You responded.

He was really worried though, wondering if you were sick or something. That's when you explained you just had fatigue due to PMS and just wanted rest.

"I'm sorry we can't go out like you wanted to."

"No! It's ok. We can just stay indoors and watch movies all day long. I'm always in a cuddling mood you know." He said as he joined you on the bed and wrapped his arms around you.

Kang Yeosang:

Movie nights with your boyfriend were a regular occurrence. You guys rarely payed attention to the movie, you both ended up talking very comfortably to each other. This particular night, your PMS symptom of tender breasts was acting up more than normal. Usually, you could go about your day without it bothering you, tonight it was too much though. And unconsciously your hands went in your shirt, kneading at them.

"Uh.....what are you doing?" Yeosang's voice snapped you back to reality.

"Oh.....my boobs are sore." You simply answered.

Yeosang just nodded like he understood and just looked back at the tv as he sipped on his apple juice. Wanting to mess with him a bit, you asked:

"Want to help me out?"

The juice box suddenly flattened as he sucked in all of the juice, flustered at your question. He looked at you with a look that asked "seriously?" You simply pouted at him.

"Ok." He shrugged and put his juice down.

"Wait what?" It was now your turn to be flustered.

Choi San:

Days leading up to your period were super annoying. Not only did you get killer headaches randomly, but your body decides to bloat out of nowhere and so the jeans that fit you perfectly yesterday now couldn't zip up.

"Oh fuck off!" You huffed out when the zipper ended up breaking from you pulling on it so much.

"I didn't even do anything??" San's voice from the bedroom reminded you that you weren't alone.

"Not you! I was talking about my jeans!" You explained.

"Why what's wrong?" He asked.

"They don't fit and the zipper broke." You whined.

San came inside the bathroom, seeing what the problem was.

"They fit fine yesterday?" He was confused about what happened.

And so a mini lesson on your body changes during PMS ensued. San ate up all the information for next time.

"Why don't I just buy you stretchy pants so you're more comfortable?" He suggested.

"Aww that's so nice of you." You awed at his kind gesture.

"But between you and me, I'd rather have you with no pants on." He winked at you.

You grabbed a towel and threw it at him.

"Choi San! Now you fuck off!"

Song Mingi:

You were avoiding seeing your boyfriend for the past 2 days, feeling embarrassing about the tiny breakouts that popped out on your cheeks. You didn't like looking at them and hated if anyone saw you like that. But Mingi was clingy and couldn't go one day without seeing you and so one day you were startled when he tapped on your bedroom window and then proceeded to crawl his way in.

"What are you doing here?!" You screeched as you covered your face with the blanket.

"I needed to make sure you weren't dead or kidnapped!" He responded as he got up from the floor.

He looked at your weird position and asked what it was about, and you refused to answer. Mingi just strode over to you and pulled the blanket off you.

"Don't! I look horrible!" You tried reaching for something else to cover up.

"You look fine. What are you talking about?" He was genuine confused what you meant.

"No I don't! Look at this! Stupid breakouts! I hate it!" You crossed your arms and looked down.

Mingi's heart dropped at your words.

"Honey listen.." He sat down next to you and held your hand. "Those things are totally normal. Everyone gets them once in a while, so don't feel bad. You're still beautiful no matter what."

He smiled brightly at you, hoping to cheer you up. You smiled back and didn't feel so self conscious about it anymore.

Jung Wooyoung:

Wooyoung honestly loved annoying you with his love. Usually you were very patient with him, except when you were PMSing, then you were irritable almost every day and had no patience for anyone, including him. If you think that'd stop him and leave you alone, you're wrong. That's when he likes annoying you the most. He thinks you look like cute whenever you yell at him to stop or to leave you alone.

"Who's the cutest kitten here?" He said in a sing song voice as he ruffled your hair.

"Stooop!" You whined out, getting annoyed.

"Oooh feisty kitten! Maybe if I tickle your-"

"Noooo!" You moved away from him when he tried to touch your face.

"Y/N baby.." He continued.

"Go away!" You swatted his hand away and marched to the bathroom to cool off for a little bit.

Wooyoung laughed at you stomping away in annoyance.

"One day she might actually kill you." Yeosang pointed out.

"Nah she won't, she loves me too much. Besides, isn't she hot when she's angry?" Wooyoung said.

"I seriously hold onto my theory that you're a masochist and a weirdo." Yeosang shook his head.

Choi Jongho:

Honestly you felt blessed that your only PMS symptom was weird cravings that turned you into a foodie. You had heard horror stories from your friends about how their PMS was unbearable, so you considered yourself lucky. In fact, sometimes you even forgot it was a PMS symptom.

Jongho never noticed anything unusual about your cravings, thinking you were hungry or something, until you pulled out a really weird combination that seemed to last days.

"You're eating that again?" He asked as he stared at the food in front of you.

"Yeah. I've been really craving it recently."

Jongho's heart stopped for a moment, panic rushing through him.

"Oh my God! I think I got you pregnant!" He exclaimed, his hands going to his head.

You bursted out laughing at that.

"What? No you didn't you silly goose." It was so amusing to you that he came to that conclusion.

"Then how else do you explain it?!" You honestly felt bad at how he was freaking out.

Pulling out a chair, you gestured for him to sit on it.

"Make yourself comfortable Jongho. Time for a little biology lesson."

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners.

[orphaned-kiirokero]

Inure (KSJ)

Inure: To accept and grow accustomed to something undesirable

Part of the “Protect the Village!” Oneshot series.

Masterlist

Pairing: Banker!Seokjin x FinancialAdvisor!Reader

Genre: Fluff, angst, mutual pining, misunderstandings, a bit of suggestive content (?) idiots to lovers (kinda) 

Note: This was supposed to be out yesterday, but my dumbass fell asleep before I got to finish and polish it. I drank dumb bitch juice, apparently. 

Summary: Having strict, overbearing parents meant expectations, and those expectations pushed you to be a financial advisor for the sake of making them proud. Worst idea ever. Well... Maybe not. Besides, you got to meet Kim Seokjin.

Word Count: 6k

      “Taehyung... I’ve told you that eating half of your cookies every time you make a new batch isn’t good for business. You’re lucky Jimin and Jeongguk like your treats so much or you would be here filing for bankruptcy.” I scolded the younger boy in front of me. Taehyung gave me a sheepish smile as he scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry, Noona,” I sighed, shaking my head to relieve the small headache I had going on. 

      Taehyung was a good kid. Well... He was in his twenties, but he still had that childlike glow to him. But with the childlike glow came the less than logical decisions. “Tae, you still have loans to pay back and they’re coming up soon. I don’t want to be the pessimist, but it’s better to sell those cookies.” 

      Taehyung nodded, “Don’t worry! I got this!” He exclaimed, a determined grin on his face. “I’m sure you do, now you’re free to go do more fun things,” I chuckled, gathering all the paperwork that laid on my desk that detailed Taehyung’s finances. Boring stuff, really. “Thanks, Noona! Come by sometime, okay?” We waved goodbye, silence now encompassing my small plain office. 

     It wasn’t even lunch yet, and everything has already drained my will to stay awake. It’s not that I absolutely loathed my job. I enjoyed seeing Yoongi or Taehyung light up in joy when I told them they reached their business goal or answered their questions about the best way to save. It was satisfying.

But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t boring as hell sometimes. 

      Sometimes I wished I gave my parents a big middle finger and majored in art conservation. I’d rather be looking at 200-year-old paintings of dead people and bringing a portrait back to life rather than staring at paperwork with endless numbers printed on them. But, alas, I didn’t. Now here in Bangtan Village, I help the businesses (and occasional person) here thrive. 

      “Tired already?” My coworker, Hyejin, asked as she walked into my office. “An accurate observation,” I sighed, resting my forehead on my mahogany desk. “I assume Taehyung’s business is doing well then?” She chuckled, handing me some files that I’d have to look over later. “Now you know I can’t disclose client information, but let’s just say he’s lucky to have gluttons as friends.” I chuckled. 

     Hyejin snorted and shook her head. “That boy... Besides that I came in here to ask if you wanted to go out to dinner after work, but you really do look exhausted,” Hyejin’s face contorted into worry. She grabbed my face with both hands and moved it in different ways, looking at the consequences work related stress gave me. An acne breakout on my right temple, dark circles under my eyes, pale face. I’ll admit I didn’t look my best, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. 

I had to work.

      “It’s fine, really. I’m fine. I just need more coffee,” I shrugged, gently moving away from her grasp. “Y/n, running on just coffee isn’t good for you either,” Hyejin pouted, gesturing to the 2 empty mug already sat on my desk. “It’s not ideal, but I can’t just not work,” I pointed out, “You haven’t taken any days off since you came down with the flu, in January, two years ago.” Hyejin deadpanned, “You need a break. I’m sure Yoongi and Taehyung won’t go bankrupt in a matter of three days,” 

      I groaned and slouched in my old leather desk chair. “But what if they do...?” I whined. “You’re being irrational.” Hyejin sarcastically whined back, mimicking my slouched shoulders and pouty lip. “Why don’t you just ask Mr. Kim to give you a couple days off?” She suggested. I laughed, “Mr. Kim? Overly handsome Mr. Kim that I can barely speak a word too without blubbering? Me? Talk to him?” 

      I chuckled some more and Hyejin gave me an unimpressed face. “It’s not that hard! What’s so bad about it?” She scrutinized. “What so hard? His handsome face! The way he says my name! His eyes! They make me loose all brain function like I’m not a college graduate,” I pointed out, because it was obvious. 

      Kim Seokjin. Manager of Bangtan Village’s bank. 28 years old, tall, the embodiment of professionalism. He looked as if god sculpted him. A modern rendition of Galatea. He had a demeanor that called for authority without question. When he walked by, you had to pay attention. 

      Some may say that this only affected me so badly because of my tiny crush on him. But I beg to differ. How could you look at that beautiful face and not stutter? How could you hear that voice and not swoon? How could your heart not skip a beat whenever he smiled or laughed? Even if he always played the boss role, I couldn’t help but fall.

      “You’re overreacting, it’s just-” Hyejin was cut off by a knock at the door. “Come in!” I called, sitting back up in my seat and dusting off my blouse. The door opened and the one and only Kim Seokjin walked in. Speak of the devil. “Good afternoon ladies,” He said with an unwavering smile. We replied with a ‘good afternoon’ back. 

“What brings you here?” I asked, fiddling with my hands. 

“I just wanted to ask your opinion on something,” Seokjin explained. 

      He walked further into the room, rounding my desk to stand beside my sitting form. He placed a folder in front of me, three sheets of paper spilling from the manilla cardstock. Seokjin leaned down next to me, one hand on my desk, one hand on the back of my chair. I could faintly smell his earthy cologne. 

      I cleared my throat, erasing the invasive thoughts of Seokjin from my mind. This was work, business, he needed your help with something. Calming my shaky hands, I grabbed the first sheet of paper, examining the printed black numbers and letters. The closer I looked, I spotted the bank’s name printed on the top and different amounts of money though a certain number of months below it. 

    “M-Mr. Kim, are these the statements for our bank?” I asked, flipping through the three pages that contained more information on money and spending. “It is,” He answered back, turning his head to look at me. I looked at him in return, suppressing the gasp in my throat when I realized just how close he was. His honey eyes roamed my face for a moment before he spoke again, “What do you think?” 

      Confused, I looked back at the papers briefly. “Are you asking me to make a business plan for the bank...?” I questioned, looking back at my boss. He shrugged nonchalantly, “No, do you think we need one?” Answering my question with more questions. “N-No, the bank’s doing well.” I said, “We’re not drastically losing money or anything, not losing money at all actually...” I mumbled to myself, but loud enough that the man beside me heard. 

      Seokjin let out a nonchalant hum, sitting back up in his pitch perfect posture. “If you say so. I trust your opinion.” He said, gathering the papers from my desk and making his way to the door. “Wait! Mr. Kim!” Hyejin spoke up. Seokjin stopped, turning his attention on Hyejin, who had a knowing smile on her face. “Ms. L/n actually has a request for you,” She said in a sweet voice, gesturing her hand towards me. 

      Seokjin’s attention spun towards me and I stopped like a deer in headlights.  “Yes, Ms. L/n?” He asked, raising one of his eyebrows. That shouldn’t be attractive... But it was. “I- uh... I’m...” I stuttered, not being able to tear my eyes away from the alluring man in front of me. “Ms. L/n wants to know if she can have a couple days off,” Hyejin spoke for me.

      “I do?” “She does?” Seokjin and I asked at the same time. “Yep!” Hyejin said, giving me a “If you say otherwise I’ll put itching powder in your skirts” look. So for the sake of my comfort, I shut up and went along with it. A couple days couldn’t hurt, right? If there's a financial emergency, then I’ll get a call or something. 

      Seokjin cleared his throat and turned back to me with a worried look on his face. “Are you okay Ms. L/n? You’re not sick or anything?” He asked. “N-No just... I just need a break, ya know?” I nervously chuckled, fiddling with the end of my blouse to keep my racing thought to a minimum. “Ah, okay. You’re welcome to have a few days off, you deserve time off,” Seokjin smiled. 

      After we exchanged our goodbyes and Seokjin left, I whipped around towards Hyejin and glared at her harder than a teenage boy glaring at his mom after she took away his vape. “What was that?” I hissed, crossing both of my arms. Hyejin, unphased by my threatening demeanor, chuckled and sighed. “That, my friend, was you getting a well-deserved break”

      I never realized how bland my apartment was until now. I mean, yes, it looks kinda lived in and yes, there are kink-knacks lounging about. It just looks, barely used. Which wouldn’t be an understatement considering falling asleep on my desk at work is a common occurance. 

     Maybe it’s because I haven’t spent a lot of time here. I’m always cooped up in my office, whether it be my home one or the one at work. My home office looks like I’ve used it well, if all the coffee stains are anything to go off of. But the rest of my apartment looks like a set from a sitcom, purposefully messy, not “I’ve been here for 10 years” messy. 

      It was slightly unsettling how much I got used to something I dreaded. How I threw myself into a routine- an unhealthy one at that- and got used to it. I always told myself that no matter what, I’d still paint. I’d still go to art galleries and watch those calming art restoration videos on YouTube, living vicariously through the screen. 

But I didn’t.

      I suppressed the hurt I felt for not being able to follow my dream by forcing myself to like what cards my parents dealt to me, what cards I played. That fact scared me. It scared me cause even if this was my apartment, even if I had trinkets that reminded me of my favorite shows and books, even if I was away from the pressures of my overbearing parents. I wasn’t living in a home. This was my apartment, but it wasn’t my apartment.

      Not a single thing around reminded me of my passion. Not a painting, not a paint tube, not a paintbrush. Not even an art catalog. I love art catalogs. Maybe I really needed this break, maybe I needed it to show myself that I wasn’t thrilled with the life I had now. 

However, there was nothing I could do, could I?

       It was too late. The diplomas on my wall told me that. It was too late to turn back. I’m 27. I already laid my life out for myself. I would be a financial advisor until I retired or died. That fact didn’t leave a pleasant feeling in my heart. But what could I really do about it?

      The sound of the doorbell ringing jostled me awake from my nap. I gave myself a second to get my bearings. I was in my living room, on the couch. Grey blanket draped over my form while the T.V played some trash show. Groaning, I got up from my makeshift bed, stretching out my stiff muscles as I made my way to the front door. 

       Opening the door, I saw Jimin, the town's delivery boy, standing on my doorstep with flowers in his hands. “Hello Jimin,” I said, giving the boy a smile. “Hey Y/n! Long time no see,” He chuckled, “I have a delivery for you,” He said, extending the vase of flowers in his hands towards me. “Oh, thank you Jimin, but I didn’t order any flowers,” I said. 

     “Not you, someone ordered flowers for you!” He said, turning the vase around to show me a little card that was hanging off of it. “You have a secret admirer,” He chuckled. Confused, I took the vase from him, smelling the saccharine aroma of the peonies and daisies that laid perfectly together. “Oh, wow, thank you again Jimin. Have a good day!” I said, Jimin gave me his award-winning smile as he bid me farewell. 

      I stepped back inside my apartment, shutting the door behind me. I walked to my kitchen and placed the heavy vase down on the counter, grabbing the attached card. “Min’s Flowers” was printed on the front in a style resembling calligraphy. Opening the card, I saw a neat handwritten note. 

‘Dear Y/n, I hope you are feeling better after getting some rest. You should know that you can always ask for a break when you need one, you’re an amazing advisor, but I know that staring at paper work can get a bit boring. I hope you like the flowers, I remember you mentioning that your favorite art piece had beautifully painted peonies. Get some rest, okay? 

P.S. Why was the office of cantaloupes so glum? Because they were melon-colleagues!”

      “Melon-colleagues... Oh!” I chuckled to myself, only understanding the play on words once I said it aloud. “This was sweet of you, Mr. Kim,” I said to myself, smelling the peonies once again. It was stupid how easily the man made me swoon, a simple smile here, a compliment there. Anything he did made my heart skip a beat, and this was no different. 

      I carried the vase to my bedroom, placing it on my bedside table next to my alarm clock. Deciding that I should thank him, I grabbed my phone and opened it to my messenger. Was it unprofessional to text your boss? I mean, I am thanking him for a gift so I suppose it’s fine. I texted out a simple ‘thank you’ message and sending it. 

‘I got the flowers Mr. Kim, thank you. They’re beautiful :)’

But what I didn’t expect was an immediate answer back. 

‘You’re welcome and please call me Jin :)’

‘Alright, Jin’

      “I’m telling you Y/n, I think Mr. Kim has a thing for you!” Hyejin squealed over the phone to me. “No, he doesn’t, he’s just a nice man,” I said, placing the new vase of flowers that were just delivered to me on my coffee table. “He sends you flowers every day! That’s not nothing!” She argued. I rolled my eyes, picking up the new card and flipping it open to read. 

‘Dear Y/n, I got you mini sunflowers this time, they remind me of you. Also, why was the broom late for work? It overswept!’

      I chuckled, turning my attention back to Hyejin. “I’m sure he’ll stop soon,” I counter argued. “Besides, what would Mr. God’s bragging right want from me?” “God, you are so dense it hurts. Did you know he asks about you? Checks your office to see if you came in today? Every single day.” Hyejin revealed. I stopped fiddling with the flowers for just a moment. “He does?” 

      I heard Hyejin groan and sigh, “Yes! Mr. Kim totally has a thing for you!” She stressed, “Jin’s just-” “See! He even lets you call him by a nickname!” Hyejin cut me off. “Hyejin, you’ve been watching too many Hallmark movies,” I giggled, “Friends are nice to each other. No matter how badly I want Mr. Hottie to smack me in the face with his lips, it’s just unrealistic.” 

      “Okay, how about I prove to you he’s crushing on you? Get you undeniable evidence?” She bargained, and I could only imagine the mischievous face she was most likely sporting. “What are you going to do? Follow him around with a camera?” I chuckled sarcastically. “No! But what if you tell him about something you like? But really discreetly. You mentioned he remembered your favorite painting, say something in passing that nobody would care about unless they wanna impress you!” Hyejin answered. 

      “That’s a horrible idea.” I deadpanned, “But if it’ll get you to leave me alone about this, I’ll do it.” I heard Hyejin cheer, sounding way too excited about what will end up being nothing. “You’ll see!” Hyejin teased. I was about to refute her statement when my phone chimed. I took it away from my ear to see a message from Jin. “Speak of the devil, he just texted me,” I said aloud. “Well, don’t leave him hanging, go on! I’ll talk to you later!” Hyejin said as she hung up. 

Shaking my head at her antics, I opened my messages. 

‘Hey! How are you feeling?’ The text said,

‘I’m feeling better, thank you. How are you doing?’ I asked.

      That was the start of a very long conversation. One where we talked about mostly anything. Jin mentioned that he was bored in his office doing nothing and decided to check up on me, to which I joked about telling the boss about his slacking. 

      The conversation flowed without hesitation. There was no long pause between messages, no awkward one-worded responses. Just the two of us talking freely. I completed Hyejin’s challenge when Jin was telling me about all the pretty colored flowers that Yoongi had in his shop. I agreed with him, saying that it would be nice to paint it, preserving the colors in art form. 

But what I hadn’t expected was for Jin to drop a bomb on me. 

       We were talking about Jin’s printer that seems haunted because it beeps at the weirdest times. He was making a joke about talking to it and having it as a friend, and to bring that joke to a close he took a selfie with the printer. Admittedly, he looked very handsome posing next to a hunk of metal, but it wasn’t his face that caught me off guard, it was his collarbone. 

     Normally, looking at someone's collarbone on purpose just seems... Pervy... But when there’s an irritated bruise on it, it draws one's attention. Right there, peaking out from under his slightly unbuttoned white button up, was a bruise on his collarbone. Now, I’m not naïve. Why else would you have a bruise there unless someone left it on you in a steamy way? 

      Maybe I was denying the possibility of Jin having a crush on me to Hyejin, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t hoping for her words to be true. Deep down I wanted her to be right. I wanted my feelings for the stunning man I was texting and talking to for the past couple days to be reciprocated. How dumb was I?

      Of course he had a lover. Just look at him. Not only is he handsome, but he’s kind, funny, hard-working. We were in our late 20s, this was the time where most of the people our age were settling down, having kids, getting ready for the future. There’s probably going to be a ring on his perfectly imperfect finger soon.

That fact shouldn’t hurt as bad as it does...

‘Dear Y/n, You mentioned you’d like to paint the flowers in Yoongi’s shop, so I got really colorful flowers for you. Maybe now you can paint them? I’d love to see if you did. I’m sure your just as good as an artist as you are an advisor. Hyejin mentioned you plan on coming back to work tomorrow, I’m happy you’re feeling better. :)

P.S What’s red and smells like blue paint? Red paint!’

      I felt as if my body was betraying my thoughts as a slight smile graced my lips at Jin's terrible dad joke. My heart still beating for him even if my brain was against it, flashing the image of a passionately bruised Jin into my mind every time my heart rate picks up at his words. 

      What betrayed me more was my body moving on autopilot towards my storage closet, wrestling my way to the back, pulling out tubes of old paint, sets of old paintbrushes, and an old easel. What betrayed me more was my body going to an empty corner in my room, setting up a workspace for my suppressed passion to flow, setting the colorful flora delicately on a spare table. What betrayed me more was the way I didn’t hesitate to squeeze colors out of their tubes, meticulously pick paintbrushes, lift my hand up to start the first stroke. Then the second, then the third.

      Soon I got lost in the motion of forgetting everything. Enclosing myself in my own world, nothing but me and the canvas. Focusing on the details of flowers that nobody cared to look at. Stem, sepal, stigma. All pieces of a puzzle that made up a delicate lily. Those lilies making up the picture of the vase, that bouquet having much more meaning than anybody could interpret. 

      A bouquet that represented longing, hurt, disappointment. All conveyed with every stroke of the brush, every color mixed, every dot placed. Anyone looking in on my life from a fogged window wouldn’t understand why tears fell from my eyes as I continued painting. People would tilt their heads in confusion at the way I stared, longingly, at the seemingly simple flowers. People would whisper words of confusion as I unconsciously desaturated my colors to match the feeling that plagued me. 

A once bright image turned into a foggy photo of melancholy. 

      I painted those flowers and cried, dreaming about the man I couldn’t have, the man I longed to hold, to kiss, to cherish. Maybe it was stupid. Maybe I was overreacting. A simple bruise. A simple reddish bruise is all it took to break my spirit? Silly when you think about it hard enough, but feelings and rationality are a funny concoction. Never quiet going together in how they should, many opting to unconsciously separate the two. Many like me. 

      I should’ve suppressed the wayward feelings when I recognized them years ago. Lock them in a box and throw them away, never to be seen again. Have my heart swallow the key, then forget about its existence. But I didn’t. The nights spent thinking about him; the days spent watching him from afar; they passed like a flash of lighting. My feelings growing quicker than I expected, right under my nose. 

      When I finished, I didn’t move. I just looked at the painting that was a product of my suppressed sorrow. Realizing that not only did Jin steal my heart, he reawakened my passion for painting as well. 

      “Hey, are you okay? You don’t look so well,” Hyejin asked, taking a sip from her mug that aptly said “Cupid’s Sleuth” that I got her for her birthday one year after she set up two of our mutual friends together. “I guess,” I mumbled, focusing my attention on my own cup of liquid energy. 

      Hyejin put her hand on my shoulder to gain back my attention, but after a restless night my reaction speed wasn’t the best, so I didn’t notice it. “Y/n,” She called, and I looked up from my mug. “You’re even worse than you were before you took a mini-vacation, what happened?” 

      I sighed, placing my mug down on the gray counter of the employee break room. “You were right. He remembered.” I said in a gravelly voice. “That’s great! Right?” She cautioned. I said nothing, opting to fish my phone out of my pocket and opening my messages with Seokjin, turning the phone to her to show her the picture. 

     “I don’t- Oh...” She coughed. “That um...” She stammered. “Yep, looks like a hickey.” I said, putting my phone back in my pocket. “But that doesn’t make sense, he’s obviously likes you!” She argued, “Well, obviously he doesn’t!” I snapped, startling Hyejin. “Sorry, but the proof is right there, Hyejin, he already has a lover,” I sighed. 

      Hyejin didn’t say anything. Her face showed she was thinking about something, and she was thinking hard. “There has to be an explanation,” She mumbled. “There’s something we don’t know. If he had a lover, why has he never talked about them? Mentioned them in passing? Or even have a picture of them on his desk?” She pointed out. “Maybe they’re a private couple,” I reasoned. 

     Hyejin shook her head, mumbling out, “No... that’s not it,” Her eyebrows creased as we stood there in silence. “He’d at least have a picture... Why don’t you just talk to him?” She suggested. I choked on the coffee I was sipping, hacking up the liquid that made it down the wrong pipe. “Talk to him? And what? Admit that I’ve fallen in love with him so he can laugh about me to his significant other when he gets home? Not happening.” I said. 

      Hyejin rolled her eyes, “Come on, talking is the only way to sort this out. You’re an adult Y/n!” She gestured to my matured, adult body as if I didn’t already know this fact. “Sometimes, things are best left to the unknown, for the sake of my heart.” I finished the rest of my coffee and left the cup in the sink. “I appreciate your effort, but this time you can’t be cupid's sleuth.” I lamented, leaving the break room to go back to my office.

      I avoided Jin like the plague for the next few weeks. Running away from him in the halls before he saw me, leaving for lunch before him, not leaving my office unless absolutely necessary. Others were starting to notice my sudden aversion for my boss, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t look at him. 

      Every glance at his face, rumble of his voice, whiff of his earthy cologne whenever I rushed by him in the halls, it was torture. I hated the way my heart skipped a beat at everything he did. How my breath picked up and palms turned sweaty. I hated the way he still held my heart captive in his hands, even if he didn’t know it.

      So, if it hurt to be around him, I’ll avoid him. No matter how long it takes for my feelings to dissipate, I’m willing to dance this dance around him. They have to go away eventually, right? I wouldn’t be a hopeless romantic forever...

      I drowned my thoughts in paint. Left my sorrows in swirling blues and purples. Expressed my frustrations in striking reds and yellows. Wrote my whimsical wishes in hues of greens and pinks. I got lost in the empty canvas set up in front of me, giving color to the void of white. 

      I never knew how to start or where to finish, but I just let myself flow. Orange here, maroon there, wherever it felt right is where it went. Soon pictures of flowers and sunsets would emerge from the cacophony of colors that I splattered on the canvas. The worlds that I painted ones of idealization. Worlds where there was no hurt, no pain, no disappointment. 

      That’s where I was now, currently getting lost in saturations of green. Sitting in front of a canvas, I painted a world of my own. This one was turning into an open field at dawn. Maybe if I give it to a psychiatrist, they’ll understand the unconscious emotions I laid bare in the paint. Point out why such a picture gave off feelings of longing, melancholy. But for now this was my solitude, my abditory. 

      A knock on my front door threw me out of that daydream, however. Confused, I turned to look outside at the weeping sky. It was pouring. Who in their right mind was at my door? I quickly got up and hurried over to my door, not caring that I was in my paint stained apron or that I had paint on my face. But maybe I should’ve when I opened the door and was greeted by a soaking wet Seokjin. 

      Gasping, I took in his sopping form. He was dripping from head to toe, still dressed in his work attire. “Jin? What are you doing out in the rain? Come on, come in,” I said, ushering him inside. I wasn’t thinking about anything other than his comfort and the fact he was most likely freezing. 

      I quickly hurried to my hallway linen closet, grabbing one of my fluffy towels and rushing back to give it to Jin. “Let’s get you warm,” I led him to the couch, sitting him down. After Jin dried off a bit, I prepared some tea and handed him a cup. “Thank you,” He said, giving me that same adorable smile. “What were you doing out in the rain?” I asked, keeping my mind off of his charm. 

      “I wanted to come see you...” He admitted, nervously looking down at his cup. “M-Me? You see me at work, Jin,” I pointed out, taking a sip of tea from my own cup. “No... I don’t, you’ve been avoiding me Y/n,” He whinged, emphasizing the “avoiding” part. “I haven’t been avoiding you...” I fibbed, looking anywhere but at him. 

      “Yes, you have! It’s like I’ve got the plague-Which I don’t- Did I do something wrong?” He fretted, a look of hurt on his handsome face. I didn’t know what to say, I wanted to say no, tell him it was all me and my stupid feelings for him, but admitting that to him was terrifying. After I didn’t answer for a minute, Jin sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. 

      “I don’t- I really don’t understand...” He whimpered, sounding like a kicked puppy. It tug at my heart string more. “I’m sorry...” I mumbled, guilt bubbling up in my throat and stinging at my eyes.  

“I don’t want a sorry! I want an explanation! What did I do?” Jin glowered.

“It wasn’t you! Alright? It was never you... It was me! I can’t be around you!” I yelled.

“Why not?”

     “Because I love you, asshole! And it hurts to know that you already have someone who loves you the way I wish I could.” I wept, tears of frustration spilling out of my eyes. I furiously wiped away the stray evidence of my inner turmoil, turning away from the man in front of me. “Alright...? Is that what you wanted to hear...?” I sniffled. 

      Jin stayed silent. Not making a sound. The only noise that could be heard was the beating of rain against the windows and the occasional distant rumble of thunder. “I’ll call you a cab...” I choked out, stepping towards my bedroom where I left my phone laying on my bed. 

      As I went to go grab it, Jin stopped me, grabbing my wrist, pulling me back. I whipped around, bumping into Jin’s wet chest, his large hand still wrapped around my dainty wrist. “Jin, what are you-” “Where’d you get that idea?” Jin asked, cutting me off. 

      “What?” I whispered. “Where’d you get the idea that I have a lover?” He asked, staring directly into my eyes. His face was so close to mine that I could faintly feel the breaths he took. I could see the little imperfections on his face, a freckle here, a scar there. He never failed to take my breath away. 

      I peeled my eyes away from his amber ones, focusing on the- now faint- bruise that rested on his collarbone that was semi visible through his damp shirt. I reached up and lightly touched it, my hand shaking a bit. “I’m not seven, I know what a bruise on the collarbone means,” I whispered. 

“Y/n, that’s not a hickey,”

“Then what is it, Jin?” 

      “It’s the result of Jeongguk’s carelessness. He was swinging around his baton, hit me square in the collarbone. Hurt like a bitch,” He grimaced. Jin guided my hand away from the bruise, lifting it to his lips and giving it a chaste kiss. “The only bruise on my collarbone that I want is one that you give me,” He whispered, bringing my hand to cup his cheek. 

      I rose my other hand to rest on chest. I could hear my heart in my ears, beating in a rhythm rivaling the gallop of a horse. “Jin... What are you saying?” I asked. “When you started avoiding me, ignoring my texts and dancing around me at work. It hurt. I realized that without you, I felt like I was missing something important. I tried to ignore it. I tried to tell myself that even if it wasn’t what I wanted, I’d get used to it. But earlier today, when all I could see at every street corner was a happy couple... I knew I couldn’t ignore it anymore.” 

      Jin wrapped an arm around my waist, bringing one of his soft, slightly calloused hand to gently cup my cheek. Even if he was cold, the touch was so undeniably warm. “I really like you Y/n. More than I probably should.” He admitted, “So please, let me kiss you.” 

      Jin lent down, capturing my lips in his soft, plush ones as my knees threatened to buckle. His lips lingered in place, basking in the warmth mine offered. We moved together in an unspoken rhythm, a waltz we created in our own heads as our lips danced together. 

      Jin kissed me like the second he pulled away, the world we had created together behind our closed eyes would melt away, and he would be back shivering in the rain. “I love you too,” He whispered against my lips, kissing me with more fervor after every second. He held me tighter, his wide hands enveloping my waist in a comforting hold. 

      It felt so hot. Whether that was the heat from Jin or the flush from myself, I wouldn’t know. Our bodies melded in a way where you couldn’t tell who was who. Arms wrapped around one another, legs brushing together, lips clashing in a fight to get impossibly closer. 

      After we calmed down and our lungs started to burn, we pulled away. We still held each other close, not willing to part just yet. “I never want to part from you again,” I admitted, resting my head on Jin’s broad chest. “Me neither,” Jin whispered back to me, pressing a kiss on the top of my head. 

      We stood there in silence, holding each other in an embrace that said so much. So many unspoken words of “I’ve wanted this for so long” and “I never want to let go,” communicated through delicate touches and lingering kisses. 

       The man who stole my heart and refused to let it go. The man who reawakened my lost passion for art. The man who taught me that maybe talking is better than letting things wallow in an abyss of self pity, was mine. He was in my arms, kissing my lips, hugging my body. 

And I couldn’t be happier.

      “Let me see,” Jin said, looking over my should at the painting I’ve been working on for the past 2 hours. “Wow, you never cease to amaze me,” He said, giving me a kiss on the cheek. I was painting the recent bouquet of flowers Jin got me this morning, this one filled with different color peonies. “You’re so sweet,” I chuckled, giving him a kiss back. 

      Jin gave me a smile, his eyes full of admiration and love. “I love you, flower,” He whispered to me. “I love you too,” I whispered back, stealing a chaste kiss from his lips. “Are you going into work tomorrow?” Jin asked. “No, none of my clients need me so I’ll just stay home and paint,” I shrugged, turning my attention back to the canvas.

      Jin watched me paint for a little longer, stealing kisses here and there. It was relaxing to have him so close. “From workaholic to laid back painter,” Jin chuckled, his squeaky laugh pulling a giggle from my throat. “Well, I had someone to show me that it’s okay to have passions,” I said, giving Jin a loving look. “I’m glad,” He whispered, pressing a kiss to my waiting lips. 

[renjunfromthestars]

work too much

Pairing: Mark + reader, Established relationship, Med School/Doctor!Mark (I can’t stop thinking about this omg)

Genre: Fluff, angst if you squint, and it’s me so a little bit of crack LOL

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.4k 

Summary: It’s the middle of Pandemic; there’s been a lot of changes to your life, but Mark is one of the only things that have always been constant, and you’re thankful for that. But Mark in typical Mark fashion is stressed and tends to over work himself, so you always try your best to support him in your own way

Can be read as an extension to more than or as a stand alone

Notes: proof read? ofc not. but I’ll say it once and I’ll say it again...Mark is a little awk and always works so hard (poor bby), so imagining him as a super stressed pre-med major (now Doctor!!) still absolutely wrecks me thank you goodbye 

---

When the pandemic hit, it was simultaneously a blessing and a curse. A blessing, because online school definitely saved your grades (chegg also played a supporting role in this). And a curse because you and 7 million people suddenly found yourselves in a pandemic, and a pretty serious one at that.

When the news first came out about a small viral breakout in China, you didn’t think much of it. You were scared shitless when news of a recurring Ebola epidemic came to your attention, WebMd-ing every symptom and prevention technique so obsessively to the point that Mark had to confiscate your laptop for a second. 

“Objectively it’s a really serious viral disease, but your chances of getting it are astronomically low. A vaccine was already developed since the first serious breakout in 2014. Plus, most of the cases are in Africa, and it’s very contained-” Mark stops. “Are you even listening?”

“I am,” you protest. “But I’m still going to be scared no matter what you say.”

Mark sighs, sitting back down on the couch after gently placing your laptop on the coffee table. 

He ruffles your hair playfully, and your frown only gets deeper. “You silly, silly girl. Take my word for it, you’re fine.”

To be honest, you really should, but anxiety doesn’t discriminate, not even when you have a very knowledgeable boyfriend in medical school.

When you snuggle into his side and wail jokingly (or are you?) about being afraid of dying for the 4th time that week, you can almost see the defeat flash in Mark’s eyes. Yet, he doesn’t complain, and tells you things are going to be okay while wrapping his arms around you comfortingly. 

For Mark, you’re eternally thankful. 

When the pandemic hit, you didn’t really mind quarantining. You had the necessities: toilet paper, a Netflix subscription, and Mark, not necessarily in order of importance of course. The early months of the pandemic gave you a perfect time to recharge from all the grad school craziness. What really drove you insane were the lack of people taking social distancing and quarantine orders with a grain of salt. Mark scolds you when you say it’s just another form of natural selection, that you like to think that those kinds of people peaked in high school. 

Mark on the other hand, is having the opposite experience, Because of the severity of the virus, he graduated from Med school a whole two months early to join other health care workers in the fight against covid. Mark is a smart guy; he’s cautious and plans accordingly-but you’re not going to lie- Mark being in the hospital scares you.

Although he doesn’t like to talk about it, you can tell things are stressful for him from the way his shoulders droop when he thinks you aren’t looking. Dark circles around his normally twinkling eyes, and you’re not even exaggerating when you think you see a white hair or two. 

Mark doesn't like to talk about it and you understand, instead showing your support through your actions; you time dinner so that it’s ready right when he comes home, and are sure to give him time to recharge on his own. Mark also has trouble sleeping at night because of his work schedule, so you ordered a white noise machine in an attempt to soothe him. It works, but the poor boy still looks stressed in his sleep, with his eyebrows slightly furrowed and tense. You consider asking him to take some time off from the hospital, but Mark has a big heart and you believe in him. It’s a big part of why you and Mark get along so well, you think,--you have an uncanny ability to know what the other needs, even if they aren’t necessarily aware of it.

“Are you mad at me?”

You’ve just switched off the light. At 8:30, it’s a little early for most people to go to bed but you don’t mind it- you know he’s exhausted, and you don’t want to pressure him to stay up. If it were up to you, you’d be watching Netflix all night. 

When you turn to look at him in the moonlight, he looks so worried that you feel your heart tighten a little.

“Of course not,” you frown. “What makes you say that?”

Mark scratches the back of his head. “It’s just that you haven’t really been talking as much to me lately. Because of the extra shifts I’ve been taking at the hospital lately, I know I haven’t been spending as much time with you, and I feel bad about it, I really do, so I understand why you’d be mad-”

As he rambles on, you deadpan a little. He seems so tightly strung it’s almost comical. When he notices you sighing, he almost combusts. 

“I’m really, really sorry (y/n). I promise I’ll make it up to you at a later time. You’re so important to me, I don’t want you to feel like I’m taking you for granted-” He stops when you reach across the covers to cradle his face.

You lean in to kiss him, and he’s so confused that it takes him a moment to close his eyes. 

His lips are a little chapped, but you don’t mind, instead making a metal note to buy him a little watermelon lip smackers later, and yes-lip smackers because imagining professional Doctor Mark using lip smackers is hilarious to you.

When you pull away, you’re nose to nose, foreheads touching. You’re both silent for a moment, a quiet understanding passing between you two.

“I love you so much,” he whispers. 

A smile begins to spread across your face. You know you shouldn’t tease him, but you do anyway.

“I know you do.”

“Tell me you love me too,” he almost whines, and you can’t help but stifle a laugh. 

“Don’t laugh, this is a serious matter,” he grumbles, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You give in, pecking him on the lips once more.

“You silly, silly boy. Of course I love you too. You don’t even need to ask.”

Mark closes his eyes, and when he mumbles something about not knowing what he’d do without you, your heart nearly melts. 

You close your eyes too, and as you both slowly drift to sleep, you think about how life's going good despite it’s new changes—pandemic and all. You have Mark, and that is something that will never change.

Bonus

Mark scratches the back of his head, glances at you, the little neon green tube in his hand, and then back at you. All you do is just beam at him.

“And?”

“Of course I love it, but uh, isn’t it a little girly?” he says sheepishly. 

You pinch his ear playfully and he turns the slightest shade of pink.

 “Don’t disrespect the lip smackers, it comes highly recommended not to mention coveted among almost every teenage girl.”

“But I’m not a teenage girl,” he mumbles, and you spring into action, mustering the most disappointed face you can.

They should honestly give you a honorary degree in acting, because when Mark looks at you, he might as well act like you just told him your dog just died.

He uncaps the little stick and quickly applies it all over his lips, rather intensely. When he looks back up at you, he flashes you the most awkward smile and thumbs up you’ve ever seen in your life. With his lips unusually pink and waxy from the over application, he looks like a clown, so what other choice do you have, but laugh. 

Mark catches on pretty quickly, and kisses you in retaliation; he tastes like watermelon.

“You’re an evil, evil girl,” he murmurs, “But I love you anyway.”

“All jokes aside, you’re going to actually use it right?” (you used your own hard earned money to get this for  him, a whole two dollars and twenty five not including tax )

“Of course I will. I love everything you give me.” (You know this is a lie, he doesn’t like it when you give him a smack on his butt.)