#I'm quite worried that she started with good novels though

[nishicchikouchi]

HUEHEHEHEHEH. A friend of mine whose read ORV is now reading LCF. HEHEHE. She ship joongdok. And also starting to ship alcale. I have introduced ao3 to her last week. I sent the link of the tags for both. I haven't recommended a fic yet. I'm gonna break her in hehehe. HUEHEHEHEHEH

[aprilsprincess]

you are in love | cedric diggory x fem!reader (part 1)

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Cedric was content with what he had. He was prefect, quidditch captain and the unspoken partner of yours. He wouldn't want to risk a thing with you because everything is so good as it is. But when other students are thrown into the equation, at the end of the day, is he truly yours?

warnings: two dummies in love, reader is a Gryffindor

word count: 2.5k

a/n: This is my first fic published so I'm nervous!! But I'm going to try to make multiple parts for this one because it was just getting too long and I have so many ideas for Cedric (bc we were robbed!) Also not proofread! ₊˚⊹♡

Fred pushed the list of self made “Prettiest Girls at Hogwarts” in the new first years’ faces. The tiny moving portraits of the Hogwarts girls looked a little silly in the first years’ minds but the twins insisted that pictures solidify their case.   

“These are who you lot should be aiming for,” he stated with confidence, utterly prideful of the list, “aside from y/n of course, she’s off limits.” 

“Off limits? She said she didn’t have a boyfriend while she toured us though?” a small first year girl chirped. The twins exchanged a knowing look before chuckling slowly. 

“The beautiful Gryffindor prefect, my little unknowing friends, is off limits because ah, right on time as usual” George dramatically cocked his head in your direction.  

You had been eating your breakfast alone quite peacefully when you felt someone in yellow dawned robes slip into the open seat beside you. 

“Cedric Diggory, Hufflepuff prefect, quidditch seeker-“ 

“And captain” George sang. 

“And just all around dream boy. All the girls think he’s bloody fit.” Fred concluded. 

“He has kind of an unspoken dibs on y/n. Has had one since last year when they became prefects. No one has even tried to make any advances on her cause of it.” 

“Why’s that?” the first years were now all huddled close to the twins, listening with intense interest. 

Fred rolled his eyes, “because look at the bloke!” A couple of students from neighbouring tables looked curiously in the direction of the loud proclamation. Looking around he leaned in closer to whisper, “Rumour has it he’s planning to put his name in for the Triwizard Tournament this year too. He’s as fit they come!” 

“Not to mention he’s so bloody nice that you can’t even hate the bloke for being so perfect.” George finished as the rest of the table nodded along, absorbing the precious information. 

“He’s not perfect you know.” Everyone whipped their head to see Hermione chiming in, not even looking up from her books. 

“If he was the dream boy you all say he is, they would’ve been together by now. Personally, I think he’s too comfortable for his own good.” 

“What’d you mean by that Hermione?” Fred asked. 

She shut her book with a thud and sighed, “Yes he’s attractive in all ways, but how long do you reckon he’s going to keep stringing her along like that? He’s been flirting with her for as long as he’s known her but won’t do anything about it. It’s sad really.” 

The twins paused while exchanging confused looks, not understanding what was so sad about the two perfect prefects’ relationship. 

“Ugh, boys!” Hermione, exasperated, gave up and opened the thick novel to continue her literature. 

It’s not like Cedric didn’t like you. He liked everything about you, but Hermione was right, he was comfortable with how things were. He wasn’t cocky, not in the slightest, but he was always far from worried when it came to you and other guys at the school. Everyone knew about you two, so he’s never been challenged for your attention. He in all honesty, guiltily enjoyed the lack of complication that the two of you had when it came to your relationship status. There wouldn’t be anything to lose if he didn’t start anything, so he stayed in his comfort with you. 

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“Morning y/n!” Cedric’s presence instantly made you feel relaxed and warm. 

“It’s such a pleasure seeing you here at my house’s table this morning Diggory.” you teased. It wasn’t completely unnatural for Cedric to join you at the Gryffindor table, but he usually felt that as a prefect, sitting at his own house table was almost a requirement. 

“I came bearing quite honourable and exciting news y/n,” he was beaming, so excited that it seemed like he was going to jump out of his seat, “I’ve decided to do it this year. I’ve officially made up my mind that I’m going to throw my name out for the Triwizard Tournament.” 

He was ecstatic, to say the least, and it was difficult for you to match his energy as you had just heard the worst news you could’ve expected from him. The Tournament has had students die while participating, so it wasn’t surprising that you didn’t want the boy you cared so much about to have a chance at it. 

He caught onto your uncertainty fairly quickly; you were obviously smiling but it didn’t reach your eyes. He let out a breath and carefully reached for your hand. 

“I know that you may feel hesitant about it but believe me, I know the risks but there is so much for me to gain from this experience. So please trust in me y/n.” his pleading eyes were too difficult to resist. 

“I do, I do trust you Cedric,” you mustered as much support as you could in that moment, “the Goblet would be stupid not to choose such a fine competitor.” Your words seemed to satisfy Cedric as he jumped out of his seat, gave you a quick kiss atop of your head and sped off to the Hufflepuff common rooms. 

He had made his mind up and the only thing you could possibly do was to try to hex that stupid over-gloried cup in your mind as you prayed to Dumbledore for Cedric’s name not to be pulled.  

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The news that students from other schools were coming to Hogwarts excited the masses. It wasn’t every day they got to see such new faces. Especially faces as attractive as the Beauxbaton and Durmstrang students. 

Everyone was bursting with excitement in the Great Hall, awaiting anxiously for the foreign students to arrive. You on the other hand were busy glancing at Cedric who was chatting happily with his housemates. 

“You’re staring you know.” Hermione’s deadpan voice made your head turn to face her, your eyes lingering just a second longer on the Hufflepuff table. 

“Honestly y/n, we have some of the greatest wizarding students coming in for a tournament that only happens every five years and your focus is on Diggory? Merlin y/n if anything, focus on the OWLs instead.” Hermione wasn’t annoyed, but instead truly baffled as to how you could easily ignore such a large celebration for one boy. 

You held up your hands in defense, but before you could retort, Dumbledore had already started introducing the new guests. 

The vision of blue overwhelmed your senses and you were stunned for a second, only being snapped back to reality by the hollering of the surrounding boys. You shifted in your seat in an attempt to see Cedric’s reaction to the Beauxbaton girls, but the rowdiness of the male students blocked your vision. Sinking back in your seat pouting, you wondered if Cedric was enjoying this as much as the other boys were. I mean, Ron was practically drooling. You didn’t have much time to sulk over the issue as you got simultaneously shoved on both sides by Hermione and Ginny. You craned your neck to see what was causing this female commotion. 

“Oh Merlin y/n, it’s Viktor Krum! And he’s even better up close!” Ginny whispered excitedly. You stared at the older boy not really impressed but you giggled with Ginny nonetheless, feeling left out of the Viktor-Krum-is-so-handsome festivities that were happening at the table. 

From across the grand path of new students, Cedric stared at you as you giggled and whispered with Ginny. Following your line of sight, his eyes were met with the stiff, soldier-like, famous Viktor Krum. Groaning, he hung his head in his hands as the noises of the Great Hall faded in his ears. He was beginning to think, maybe he was, in fact too cocky when it came to you. 

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Your friends were whispering excitedly in the courtyard when you had joined them. 

“What’s got you lot so excited?” you asked while squeezing to sit between Hermione and Ginny on the ledge. 

“Viktor Krum! What else?” Ginny chirped excitedly. Just at the mention of his name, the other girls squealed in pure bliss. You observed your young friends’ excitement happily. You hadn’t had much time to observe the new Hogwarts guests, as the reality of Cedric putting his name into the goblet this year became more and more clear to you. A warm hand delicately tapped your shoulder from behind you, breaking you from your worries temporarily, and you looked up and behind to see Cedric standing behind you while giving you his most infamous, heart-stopping smile. 

“Ladies” he nodded to the group of girls in acknowledgement before bringing his full attention to you. Content, you leaned your head back into his chest as you looked up at the boy who seemed to be radiating sunshine. 

“Cedric! What are you doing here?” you were beaming. He looked like honey. You couldn’t really describe it, but he was just so warm and so sweet. Beautiful really.  Especially in the courtyard sun. 

“I thought you could perhaps lend me your potions books for today?” he grinned lopsidedly at you as you sighed and pulled out the heavy book. How could you ever say no to this boy? 

“You’re the champion of my heart y/n, you know that?” you laughed when he clutched his heart with his free arm. Your heart bubbled with warmth. You let yourself bask in the feeling only for a moment when Ginny moved to head back to the common rooms first. Feeling rather amorous, you told her you would meet her back there soon. You wanted to share your bubbly feelings with someone and Ginny always loved listening to it. 

“Not just your heart Diggory.” Hermione teased quietly seeing that you were distracted with Ginny for a moment. She gestured Cedric towards a pair of Durmstrang students. One in particular seemed to be taking quite an interest in you. As the Durmstrang boy kept glancing at you, Cedric’s hand on your shoulder unconsciously became a little stiffer and he pulled you a little closer. 

Cedric then bent down to reach your ear and whispered lowly, “I really do appreciate it y/n. You’re not only the champion of my heart but also the one who holds my mind, body and soul in all completion.” The cheesiness of his words had you giggling. You knew he didn’t truly mean what he was saying, but the light tinge of pink on your cheeks was evident. 

Stretching back up to stand Cedric held his gaze on the Durmstrang boy, feeling rather confident and accomplished as he watched the boy’s friend pat him on the back consolingly as they walked away. 

“Oh, Merlin! I forgot that I told Ginny I’d meet her in the common room!” you frantically gathered your things and hollered rushed goodbyes. “Don’t forget to return my potions book Cedric!” you reminded and he chuckled lightly to himself in response. 

As your sporadic figure grew smaller in the distance, Hermione turned to face Cedric. “You know Diggory, every guy at Hogwarts may know of your guys’ relationship, but the ones at Durmstrang don’t.” Hermione stated matter-of-factly, making Cedric’s grin falter. 

“What’s that supposed to mean Granger?” Frustrated, Hermione groaned, “It means that although the boys at Hogwarts don’t fancy y/n, that doesn’t mean that the boys at Durmstrang won’t. You can’t pull that kind of stunt again with every Durmstrang boy she comes in contact with. Godric, boys are so dim sometimes!” she huffed as she turned on her heel to leave. 

Cedric rubbed the back of his neck, feeling quite sheepish for being caught in his rather childish act. Hermione was right though, he wouldn’t be able to keep every single guy away from you. So what was he supposed to do? 

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The night of the choosing of names came all too fast for you. You knew he put in his name. You knew he really wanted this. And for some reason, you felt like you knew he would be picked. This weighed heavily on your mind and you honestly could not for the life of you, pay attention to who the other two victors were. 

The paper flew out and Dumbledore caught it. The dread in your stomach increased to a nauseating level, the chatter of the students ringing in your ears and then the room went quiet. It wasn’t actually quiet but suddenly you weren’t able to hear the cheers of your peers as you watched the boy you yearned for so dearly, walk through the aisles in celebratory fashion. Your head started spinning, how many students had entered their names? What were the odds? How was it possible that the one student, the one student that you couldn’t risk being out in that tournament, had gotten picked? 

Cedric was on top of the world at that moment. He wasn’t too interested in becoming legendary or glorified through the Tournament but was simply elated to bring pride to the Hufflepuff House. He would be lying though, if he said that he would gladly take on the glory if it meant you would see him as such. Thinking of you, he searched quickly for your head in the crowd. When he finally spotted you, his grin widened but as he saw your fallen and disconnected expression he grew concerned and tried to move his way through the crowd to your spot. Unfortunately, it was a lost cause as the Goblet erupted once more and the wave of confused students swept Cedric further away from you. 

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“Krum’s got a yes!” Cedric turned his attention away from his house tablemates to the rowdy group of Durmstrang boys that were chirping excitedly. 

“Who’s the lucky woman Viktor? I mean half of this school wants to be your date to the Yule Ball! You have to tell us who you ended up asking!” the boys leaned in eager to hear more about Viktor’s proposal. 

“Who else, I asked the pretty Gryffindor I said I would ask.” he replied shortly, seemingly unamused by his friends. 

“Bloody hell, he’s asked y/n!” Cedric whipped his head around to the first-year Hufflepuff who had also turned to listen in. Cedric’s facial expression dropped. 

Glancing at Cedric nervously one of the older Hufflepuffs questioned the girl, “How in Merlin’s Beard would know that? Krum didn’t even say that he had asked y/n.” 

“It’s obvious!” she smiled as she hurriedly reached into her pocket and fished out a piece of paper. 

“Prettiest…Girls…At…Hogwarts” one of the Hufflepuffs read aloud slowly. Unbeknownst to you, the twins have not only been solidifying their list with the Gryffindor first years, but ALL the first years. 

“Look!” she pointed to your tiny moving portrait on the paper. 

“It says right there: y/n, 6th year, Gryffindor. If Viktor Krum had been talking about a pretty Gryffindor, it had had to be her. She’s a prefect, he would absolutely go for her!” the tiny girl smiled proudly at her findings as if she had cracked a hard case. 

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Sitting alone in the Hufflepuff common room, Cedric was deep in thought. 

Had Viktor Krum really asked you to the ball? Had you really said yes? He knew he hadn’t asked you at all but he had assumed it was only natural that the two of you would’ve gone together. Right..?

The more he questioned you and himself the more miserable he became.

[hypermania]

transcript of the full thread:

"A very long thread: To the League fans, We found out this news along with you on Friday. I see the pain and anger and worry out there, which for the LGBTQIA+ fans of the show is of course compounded by what’s happening across the country right now. #ALeagueOfTheirOwn

So the first and most important thing to say is: Before anything, before you fight for the show or each other, please take care of yourselves. Reach out to your community and ask for help if you need it. You aren’t alone. Please be kind to yourselves.

As I’ve been thinking about what’s happened, I come back to a quote from Penny Marshall’s film: “The hard is what makes it great.” Making this show is so hard and so great. There’s quite a bit to say about what’s been hard, but at this point that’s in the past.

Of course, if we have an avenue to do it well, we will continue the show, and I love seeing the noise you’re making in support of that. The noise matters!

And it’s hard for me to imagine there wouldn’t be a home for a show that thanks to you was in the Nielsen Top 10 for three weeks, was the top show on Amazon for a month and in the top five for six, that was recognized by critics as something special, that’s been recognized…

…with awards from GLAAD, HRC and a million other organizations, that was on a million year-end top ten lists, and that has a built in and deeply passionate audience.

Amazon is pursuing different kinds of programming, but to the rest of the world this show is a hit and has huge value and even greater potential. But first things first, we have to win this strike and get a fair deal before we can explore what comes next.

But for a moment, I want to talk about what happens if the world didn’t quite change quickly enough for you to have all the seasons of this show that we want to give you.

If we don’t find a good path forward, I will still know that League did what it came here to do and, in its own small way, changed the world.

And that’s because of all of you, and the light you continue to shine on the show — How you let it matter to you, how you let it become a mirror, how you let it change you.

I’ve never experienced a response to a show that’s as deep, personal, creative and meaningful as what the fans have done with League. When we were making the season 1, we all wondered and worried about whether people would accept it on its own terms next to the film.

They have, and you did that, and so much more. You lit up the internet on your first watch throughs of the show, when you realized where it was going (and made all of us laugh in the process).

You wrote enough fan fiction for 100 novels and created an outpouring of art and creativity that could fill its own museum — I’ve truly never seen anything like it.

You lifted up a 95 year old who had just come out of the closet and made her into a celebrity who gets recognized wherever she goes. Every time any member of the cast appears at anything, you turn it into a convention.

You stop Abbi wherever she goes, and though I’m a happily inconspicuous person, and you constantly find me and stop me and give me gifts that now have a shelf in my house.

When thousands of you appeared to see D’Arcy at the stage door of The Thanksgiving Play over its run, you turned it into the hottest queer bar in New York. You made Max’s suit and Chante’s beautiful performance into a movement.

A mob of you went to Pittsburgh and saw all of our locations. You dressed as the characters and made our characters into one of the biggest halloween costumes of last year.

You came out, you changed pronouns, you started living more openly, you gave sermons in church about the show, you opened bars, and you got a truly mind boggling number of tattoos that say “to the five” and “rob the bank.” What else am I forgetting? I'm sure you'll remind me.

But most importantly, you made a community, you found each other and found joy, which of course is what the show is about. In many more ways than I would ever have let myself imagine while we were making it, you literally bring the show to life every day.

Thank you for making our work mean something bigger. We’ve heard from so many different kinds of people around the world who are watching League.

But, in a time when all queer people are personally and politically under attack across the country and HRC has declared a “state of emergency,” my biggest fear is that the many queer fans of League will take this reversal as one more invalidation, one more blow, one more…

…effect of the general politicization of our identities. Most of us grew up feeling invisible, and as we gain strength, the predictable backlash forces are trying their hardest to get us to go back underground.

In case anyone needs to hear it: You are not small, niche, modest, off-putting or marginal, and neither are your stories. You are multitudes, you are building, and your stories are universal. You are the most rapidly growing audience and consumer group in this country.

You are powerful. You are the future, and the people who don’t recognize your importance now will feel be clamoring to catch up in a few years. As Chante said so beautifully when we received the Human Right Campaign Visionary award, you are the main characters. Be proud.

Be angry if you that’s how you feel, but know that we are going to win, and don’t ever let this moment or any other make you small. The biggest lesson of the characters in this show is that, in a world that had no space for them at all, they LIVED. (Continued)

They found love, they did the things they loved, they won. You’re doing the same thing, and just like them, you are heroes. We are still fighting for League. But whether we win or lose this one, I’m so proud.

From the time when we began working on the season, Abbi, Deta and I said to each other — Let’s not hold anything back, for as long as we get to be here, let’s do this the right way.

We got so many notes wondering if the exploration of the queer world of the 1940s or Max’s world would be better saved for season 2, if people needed to start somewhere a little more familiar. I’m so glad we didn’t listen, cause now I’m sitting here without any regrets.

And no matter what happens, the people behind League aren’t going anywhere. Give us a minute, we will be back with more for you to watch and read and feel. We’re going to win.

And you’re not going anywhere either, because what you’ve built and what you are is bigger than this show. It’s the story of our community, that comes to us through the hidden history that League shows just one small part of: The bars got raided and shut down.

But the people didn’t go anywhere, and they opened a new bar, and out of those spaces came music, cinema, dance, culture — What we now see as mainstream was birthed from the spaces our predecessors were forced to hide in. They made joy there."

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Ten

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: It was in the drafts and it's been a while so I thought I'd post. Might not hear from me for a bit though after this, so I hope you like the next part. Thank you for all the love on this one.

Masterlist

A warm bout of light filtered into the bedroom through a small gap in the curtains. It gave the space a sepia feel, tinting the light bedding and walls a warm hazel colour. Creating a haze of skittering beams above me.

It wasn't much, the room. It simply held the necessities I thought I needed seeing as I didn't spend too much of my time in it, other than when I needed to dress or sleep. I’ve really had too many other things occupying my time during the past few years that have kept me from worrying over the state of it.

There was a rickety old dresser, which sat in the far corner and had been something I'd picked up during my time at uni. Student accommodation had been lacking and so Finn had decided, quite early on I might add, that it would be in our best interest to find ourselves some cheap furniture to fill it with.

In truth, we’d actually had to lug the pesky thing all the way down a dual-carriageway and across a roundabout, after having spotted it advertised in the window of our local offy. It held a good few memories though, like when the pair of us had jumped up onto it at the first sight of an eight-legged pal, or the time I’d walked in to find him getting railed over its top.

Then there was the large mahogany wardrobe that had been purchased from a wholesaler not very long after I had finally gotten a newly born Teddy settled into the tiny flat I'd rented out in Hackney. 

It had been cramped, what with the bathroom having been the size of a broom cupboard and the only bedroom having led straight into our ‘fun-sized’ kitchen. But we'd made it work. In fact, it had practically been a Godsend during those nightly feeds- six steps and I’d been right by the cooker!

The wardrobe had been a much needed purchase though, and one of the first things I had bought solely for myself since I’d moved out of mam’s.

Then there was the side table, sat next to the one edge of my bed that hadn't been backed into a wall, which held a reading light, a three wicked candle and a couple of novels with folded and refolded receipts sticking out the sides as page markers.

I had garnered quite the collection of books, I could admit, all of which seemed to line up haphazardly on the opposite wall. I tended to smile whenever I caught sight of its heavy shelves, a reminder of all the havoc that had gone into them whilst putting them up. It had taken me three whole days, and even though they were still a tad lopsided, I still gazed upon them in pride.

A woeful plant burdened my windowsill, a slither of its olive coloured pot barely seen from behind the billowing beige curtains. Whilst cushions sat in disarray across the hardwood floor below, having been tossed every which way the night previous.

There were dirty clothes in the hamper by the half-opened door and a basket of clean, partially folded, washing in a chair sitting beside the wardrobe. 

The room wasn't completely tidy, but not a tip either.

Humming groggily to myself, I began to stir from the deep sleep I’d lost myself in and used the ball of my palm to rub tiredly at my eye just as a furrowed line creased between my brows. 

It was far too quiet, I deemed, and must've been later than usual too because Teddy normally had us both up long before the crack arse of dawn. So I sniffed once and then went to turn over, just to check the time as I always did, but couldn't stop the way I stilled completely at the sight that greeted me.

Because in bed, right beside me, laid another body. One hidden deep beneath the weighted duvet and my favoured blanket, but a body nonetheless. 

Shit.

It appeared in the remaining foggy haze of last night, I had quite simply forgotten about the man I'd invited back home. And into my bed, it seemed. As well as the ill-timed events that had led up to it, too. 

My breath hitched when the man suddenly moved in his sleep and I did my very fucking best not to express any of my thoughts or feelings outwardly. Desperate not to actually rouse the sleeper. 

Instead, I inhaled. Once, then twice. Before finally, I gathered enough courage and strength to slowly inch myself all the way down to the very end of the bed. Mindful not to drag the duvet down with me.

Once I was standing- still fully clothed, I might tack on (thank you to small miracles!)- I allowed myself a second to just peer down and admire the dark, curling locks that now sprawled across my pale pillowcase. As well as the slither of skin which poked out from beneath the bed sheets. 

In all honesty, I couldn't actually recall the last time I'd shared my space like this, so freely it almost felt effortless.

Quickly though, I blinked myself out of those sorts of thoughts and took another, much needed, deep breath. The flat was still as quiet as it had been a moment prior, but I was careful to tread incredibly lightly when I turned to grab the nearest set of clean clothes. Then, cautiously, I started to tiptoe my way out of the bedroom.

Standing in the hallway, with a wooden door now planted firmly between me and my overnight guest, I threw my head back in silent ire. Questioning just how, why! I had gotten myself into a situation this stress inducing, a situation I had not been in since my days at uni. I could only  just begin to imagine how this would all pan out once everyone was finally wide awake and Teddy had-

Oh God, Teddy!

It was painfully embarrassing to admit that I had just about worked myself into a right state before it finally hit me that Teddy was, in fact, still with Finn. At his flat, not even ten minutes away, and not down the hall, sleeping in the same space as a fucking strange bloke he’d never even set eyes on.

So with that anxiety riddled train of thought now settled, I found that I was ultimately calmer and took a deep breath before resolving to head off to the loo before anything else happened to occur. Or before I sent myself into another full blown panic attack.

I wandered down the rest of the hall into the bathroom and went about my business before stripping out of last night’s clothes. I couldn't stop myself from wincing at the laddered tights I’d since tugged off, those which would surely have to go straight in the bin, and then stepped into a pair of well-worn joggers as well as a newer jumper I’d found during the early summer sales.

It was a long and thoughtful process that had me deciding that I should start on a pot of tea, because if I couldn't sneak my way out of this entire affair via the front door, then tea would simply have to do. Us Brits, hey?

But first, I needed to find my phone.

The thing wasn't too hard to locate. I found it lying on the kitchen counter when I walked in, charging, and did my best to recall the events of the previous night as I puttered around to fill the kettle.

There had been the phone call.

Then Finn taking Teddy.

The tube ride to the bar.

Ronan... As well as everyone else.

And then, Matty had appeared out of nowhere and turned my entire sodding night on its head.

"Christ." I heard myself grumble under my breath, feeling as though I had aged an entire year in a single night.

The hangover I was now supposed to be nursing was teetering around the edges of my mind, a headache oncoming I reckoned seeing as though my shock had hit it clean off onto the verge upon waking up. But still, I found myself rubbing at my temples for a brief second before splaying my palms out on the cold counter in an attempt to calm my brewing emotions.

"Could tell you a few ways to reach him, but I don't reckon he's the sort to make house calls..."

I startled at the sound of the unexpected voice and snapped my head straight up to find Matty standing in the doorway to my kitchen. The man had apparently foregone trousers, choosing instead to make up for the lack of material on his bottom half with a pair of thick socks and an oversized jumper I knew had been draped across my dresser only moments earlier. 

I couldn't find it in himself to complain though, not that I would've. Matty looked far too indecent standing there, morning light illuminating his milky skin and shadowing his already dark, tousled hair, watching me through bleary eyes.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Is what I chose to reply with, heartbeat still a little erratic, pulsing in the curve of my throat. I reached a hand up to tug on an earring, the other arm moving to wrap its way around my torso.

Matty’s lip quirked upwards when he stepped further into the room, just as the kettle whistled away to a boil.

"You're alright." He waved off, and shook his head lightly as he made his way over to where two mugs had since been placed on the counter. Two mugs I’d put down without much thought as to whether or not he was sticking around long enough for a brew.

Still, I hadn’t needed to fret over it, seeing as I was forced to watch on as Matty brewed the tea himself; popping a tea bag into each cup and steeping them in hot water. He then cocked a questioning brow in my direction which startled me into motion.

"Sugar’s in the tin.” I told him softly, pointing in its direction, “You'll have to make do with skimmed milk though I'm afraid, got none of that oat shit."

Matty snorted in retort and crossed the floor to open the fridge, looking almost too at home in my austere, little kitchen. Especially when the jumper he wore rid high enough up his thighs to expose the edging of his tight, black boxers.

I looked away.

"Might be a bigshot, babe, but a decent cuppa means actual milk." Matty tutted, paying no mind to the homage of colourful drawings on my fridge door as it rattled shut, and then returned to his station to pour an ungodly amount of milk into one mug. He hovered the bottle over the other.

"Just a splash, please. No sugar." I told him quietly and he hummed in turn, stirring methodically before he fished the teabags out and into the bin.

I took my mug rather cautiously once Matty had picked up his own and taken perch on top of my countertop, feeling a bout of unease at seeing the singer so comfortable in my humble home. What must he think of it all?

I tried not to stress anymore than I already had and took a small sip instead, looking at the way the man opposite fiddled with the old school radio that resided on the closest shelf. It was something I'd brought along with me from back home, it had belonged to one of my grandfathers, I wasn't sure which, but it tended to soothe me whenever I cooked in the late evenings, or during the long nights when Teddy was up all hours. 

The warm tea soothed my dry throat and eased some of that tension I still had coiled in the line of my shoulders, enough so that I felt the need to start up another conversation just to fill the lingering silence.

My tongue darted out to wet my bottom lip and then I cleared my throat, cradling the hot mug in my hands.

"So, about last night..."

I was overall quite surprised to see the way Matty's entire mood immediately shifted upon hearing my opener. His lethargic demeanour- mostly down to having just woken up- stiffened entirely and sharpened his tired eyes and soft lips.

"Last night." Parroted Matty, voice low and tinged with a slight rasp that I hadn't paid much attention to a minute ago. It held power, though toneless. 

I paused, if only for a moment to weigh my next words. It was important that Matty understood that last night had been a bit of an overreaction on my part, that I’d misstepped whilst drunk, and not something other. I couldn’t deal with any of that right now, if ever. No one needed to know the extent of what had gone down.

"Ronan, he's... well, he's just always been a bit protective."

Matty stared back at me, his face utterly blank. Enough so that I actually startled slightly when he scoffed. It was a loud sound that echoed off the tiles, before his jaw set sternly and his narrowed eyes met my own. “Hang on, you're actually choosing to defend that dickhead?" 

I blinked in return, gaping in truth, at the realisation that I’d completely forgotten the fact that I'd explained much of what had happened, drunkenly, to Matty on the cab ride home. The same journey which had ended with not only Matty escorting me up to my front door but me also inviting him inside. 

Couldn’t he have just been a gentleman and declined? Left me to choke on my own sick and perhaps allow me to die with the little dignity I’d had left?

It wasn't anything like most would've probably imagined though, the whole me asking him up thing, that much I knew. My intentions hadn't been anywhere near illustrious and I certainly hadn't set out to lure the illusive singer into my bed. I’d merely wanted some company after all that had happened that night is all, scared to be alone with the guilt, even.

Which was honestly a first for me. It had always been so much easier for me to just deal with my many thoughts and complicated emotions alone, behind closed doors and far, far from judgement. 

It seemed that the alcohol had addled my mind slightly.

I couldn’t help the sigh I gave then, nor the way I curled up further into the wooden chair I’d since sat in.

"No, just-"

Matty scoffed again, this time cutting me off completely. "Well, it sounds as though you are, darling."

I went to argue but found I couldn't- not that Matty gave me much of an opportunity to though. No, the man simply stampeded on, didn’t he?

Were all rock stars this pigheaded?

"I mean, for fucks sake, Mouse! What were you thinking? I've met my fair share of arseholes but he was no doubt one of the biggest, toed right in line beside me when I was off my face, in truth. He was so fucking arrogant, controlling and- moody! My God, he was a downright moody prick, too. And those were just my thoughts before seeing the aftermath of what went down at the end of the night!” 

He shook his head vehemently.

"And protective, really Squeaks? I'm sorry to say this, babe, honest I am, but you might need a reality check, mate. He was downright possessive. Glaring at you the entire night only to try and stake his claim the second you were alone."

I gritted my teeth, unhappy with the way Matty had portrayed everything.

"He's a friend!" I tried to defend but Matty, who had since quietly settled his mug down in spite of his obvious anger, jumped off the counter and stepped forward.

"More like deranged!" He spat back, "I saw you! I was fucking there! I had to look into your eyes, see the blinding panic, the fear. Don't tell me that he's a friend, not when he caused a reaction like that. I mean, you can be intimidating when you want to be- all sweet like, subdued, and intelligent. You're all these fascinating things rolled up into one oversized jumper, and yet, you let someone like him walk all over you? Treat you like you're his property or something." He scoffed once more, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe the words he was having to spew.

I stared long and hard into his dark eyes before I couldn't stand to any longer, instead I turned away to blow out an unsteady breath.

Matty was right, I knew that much, alright? But it didn't mean I had to enjoy having to admit to that. Having someone else in on a secret I’d kept for so long, one I hadn't even realised I’d been keeping, not really. It all just felt like a little too much to be dealing with all at once and so early in the morning to boot. Because in actuality, I didn't want to face up to the fact that I had actually allowed someone to treat me that way. To know that other people had finally been a witness to it. Seen me that weak.

I had vowed long ago to never let another person put me in such a state of vulnerability. But here I was, a-fucking-gain.

I heard Matty sigh before socked feet dragged closer and I felt a gentle hand come to rest at the bow of my elbow. He sighed again, softer this time though, when I only continued to stare resolutely out of the kitchen window.

"I'm sorry for blowing my top, yeah? I just- it annoys me, to see you wash your hands of it so easily. As though you believed what he'd done was okay."

I swallowed thickly.

"You deserve better than that, okay?" Matty added.

I had to glance up at the ceiling to blink away the mist in my eyes, but did finally dip my head in silent acknowledgement, pulling away slightly so that I could take a moment to gather myself.

Matty didn't move when I crossed the kitchen floor to riffle through my cupboards, rooted to the ground almost, but he was spurred into action only a few seconds later.

I’d just placed a carton of eggs on the side and moved to turn on the hob when the old radio stuttered to a start. It let that silence I so hated fade away, and gave me the kick I needed to carry on.

"How'd you like your eggs?" I asked, and felt more than saw Matty’s relieved smile. He just had a way of taking up all the space in a room, as though he were its own gravitational pull and everyone else just had to be aware of his every cue. 

I hid my own, however tiny smile, as best I could.

"Fried. Got any bacon?"

And just like that, things evened out and our 'talk' was seemingly long forgotten. To be honest, I actually got so caught up in the normality of it all, the radio playing, the sidestepping, the easy smiles, that I completely forgot about the world around us. Everyone else that lived beyond these four walls.

It was just as we’d finished up eating and Matty had jumped up to grab our plates, that a familiar alert sounded. I glanced away and was reminded that life had in fact continued on without us.

I hurried over to where my phone was still sat on the side and worried at my lower lip when I saw the many notifications which lined the dimming screen. The newest was from Finn.

Messages now Finnleyyy Awake yet drunkard? Got a little man here ready to head home, well fed and only a little dirty!

It was instantaneous the way my gaze darted up to where Matty was now standing by the sink, only a tad surprised to find him making an attempt at the washing up. He must've felt my eyes on him though because he turned to flash me a grin over his right shoulder a second later. I tried my best to smile back, but the thought of Teddy meeting Matty, and of Matty meeting Teddy... just didn't sit quite well with me.

My thumbs flew their way across the screen to type up a speedy reply. 

Messages now Just woke up Sort of got a visitor? And before you start, no it wasn't like that, but I promise to tell you more when you get here Can you give me half hour??

It was only a little embarrassing, having to mention my overnight guest, especially whilst knowing it was the same man Finn had been blatantly teasing me about these past few weeks, but I really didn't want to have these two parts of my life crossover. Not right now.

With everything I understood about Matty and his past, I had to be certain that he was the kind of person I wanted my son to be around. The kind of person my son was safe to be around. And I was nowhere near sure where I currently was on that scale.

Matty was unreliable. His job had him everywhere and nowhere at once, up all hours of the day, and on a bus most months out of the year. That was something I really had to consider here. 

Because I really was just trying to be brutally honest with myself. No matter how genuine Matty might've seemed in his recent efforts, I also knew that he was bound to get bored of our dubious friendship sooner or later, and that Teddy tended to get rather attached quite quickly. And I wouldn't stand by and watch my son get hurt when Matty finally chose to walk away. It was tough, him only having so few people constantly around, I wished so greatly that I could give him the big family I’d always dreamed of, but new people always had me so weary.

I breathed out a quiet sigh of relief when Finn finally messaged back giving me the okay, as well as the expected hard time.

Messages now Finnleyyy Ah I'll be sure to rinse you of every detail, you lazy sod! And Teds will be fine, we'll stop off at the park on our way over

Matty popped up right beside me then, just as I exited my messages, and I was merely thankful that I'd managed to avoid him seeing anything that could have led to questions. In an attempt to both evade and act casual, I scrolled down further to see who else had texted. 

"Anything interesting?"

I blinked up at him, mouth now suddenly agape, then to my screen, then back up at him.

"Erm, you might want to see this." I told Matty as I all but threw my mobile into his hands. 

The Sun 07:34 HOTHEAD HEALY IS BACK AND MAKING HEADLINES WITH DARK HAIRED BEAUTY

MTV 08:02 MATTY HEALY SPOTTED AT LONDON BAR WITH NEW FLING!

The Mirror 08:11 A WILD NIGHT OUT ON THE TOWN FOR 1975 SINGER AND FRIENDS TURNS SOUR

In all the new texts I’d gotten Jamie had been the one to send the first few articles, but one seemingly spiralled into another, like a spider spinning its deceitful web.

Matty’s sudden bout of boisterous laughter startled me though, the sound so unexpected, and I shot a hasty look over to find an amused smile dancing on his lips whilst he shook his head.

"Erm," I attempted, but stopped there when I realised I didn't quite have the words, or rather no actual clue on what to say.

"Same old story." Matty told me, shrugging it off as though him being pictured simply standing next to Indra, the friend of a friend from last night, in a crowded bar was enough to warrant such a spectacle.

"But you barely said two words to her!" I retorted when Matty handed me back my phone, surprised by his utter nonchalance.

He only shrugged again! "All publicity's good publicity, and all that crap. Besides, I know the truth, the people who matter know the truth," He dipped his chin over at me then for some reason, "And so does she. They'll find something, or someone else, to hound soon enough."

"What, so it really doesn't bother you then? Being made out to be this person you're not."

"A slag, you mean?" Matty teased as a mischievous smile limned his lips. 

Tutting, I could only roll my eyes at him before I forced myself to my feet and wandered over to the sink. The bigshot singer made an abrupt noise of indignation when he realised that I really did intend to redo all of his hard work.

"Oi, I already did those!"

I couldn’t hide my smirk as I rinsed the plates off properly, honestly glad for the distraction. "And you did quite well, what with it being your first try."

Matty scowled halfheartedly, but I took note of the faint blush that flushed the back of his neck. Seemed like I wasn't too far off in my assumption.

"So, what did Jamie have to say about it all then?" Matty quipped, swiftly changing the subject.

I let him have it, not saying a word more on the topic before I went to dry my hands. "What I think you mean to ask is, why did he text me?"

"Well, yeah." Matty replied with another single shoulder shrug, "How did he even know that we were together?"

"Made a good guess?" I supplied simply when I found that I didn't really have the answer to that particular question. 

But privately, I reckoned that maybe Jamie hadn't realised that Matty and I had been together at all. I hadn't been photographed in any articles, from what I'd seen at least, and neither me nor Matty had had any contact with him until right now. 

Maybe Jamie had just wanted to let me in on what was happening, on the know, perhaps he'd wanted someone to rant or share his frustrations with. It wouldn't have been the first time. 

So I made a mental note to message him again later, when Matty was long gone and I had time to stew on all of this.

"Enough about him anyway, what are you up to today?" Matty asked me as he jumped backup into the counter. I consciously avoided looking at the way his thighs pressed against the granite, the tattoos that marked the length of his skin.

"Apart from bleaching your arse off of my countertops?" I snarked back and snorted when Matty merely wiggled his arse in retort, "I've got a couple of things to sort today."

"Work things?"

I hummed my general assent but avoided meeting Matty’s eye, not wanting to outright lie. I really did have plans though, plans to waste the day away with Teddy, grab a late lunch, and maybe head off to the cinema to watch that new superhero film he'd been yapping on about for the past two weeks. Only, I couldn't tell any of that to Matty.

"What about you?" I asked instead (always so polite!) as I went about the kitchen, clearing away what remained of our cooking session. I'd rather get the majority done now, than fret over it later.

"Not much." Matty mumbled as he ran a fingertip along the edge of a nearby cupboard, kicking his feet up when I swept past. "Avoid Jamie, dodge a couple calls, maybe meet up with some friends. Think Ross got the new FIFA, so might bug him for a bit."

I hummed around a small smile, returning the dry cutlery back to its rightful drawer, "That Danny guy?"

Matty flashed me a knowing smile. "Mayhaps."

"Mayhaps?" I mimicked, shooting him a questioning brow.

"It's a combination of words, Squeaks. Emphasises the meaning!"

I snorted. "I'm sure."

Matty chuckled quietly to himself before he finally pushed himself off of my kitchen side and back onto his feet. "Well, I'd best get out of your hair then. Leave you to do your important work and what not."

I faked a sigh of evident relief and dodged the swat he aimed at my arm, grinning as I rounded a table chair.

"Don't act like you won't miss my Godlike presence, darling." Matty looked down his nose at me mockingly as he made his way over to the doorway.

A belly laugh bubbled up out of me upon hearing that and Matty all but lit up at the sound. "Godlike? Wow, it's nice to know that fame really does get to some people’s heads."

Matty cut his eyes at me and with a mirthful smile, flipped me off. "Dick. I'm just gonna head up and get changed. That alright?"

I dipped my head, feigning wiping down the table before I glanced up to watch him walk away, finding my smile never faltering even after Matty had disappeared from sight.

It wasn't too long later when he popped back up again though, all dressed up in a pair of expensive boots and the tight trousers he'd been wearing last night. I didn’t miss the flash of my jumper that had been hidden somewhere behind the zip of his jacket though, but I didn’t say anything, pleased that he’d taken a liking to it. 

Looking at him, it didn't even seem as though he'd been out drinking all night, or that he'd just rolled out of the bed of some other. He looked rather lovely like this, still a tad bit sleepy- it was all in the crook of his smile, you see- and soft.

"Well, I'd best be off then." Matty announced from where he was now stood idling waiting in the hallway. 

I propped myself up against the bannister and found myself wearing an amused smile, drinking him in. "Best be."

He grinned back over at me and just when it felt as though he was about to reach out, he stuffed one hand into his jacket pocket and pointed at me with the other. "I'll text you later, yeah? So make sure to actually reply this time, all right?"

Rather dramatically, I blew out a large breath and crossed my arms over the ball that sat atop the bannister’s wooden beam. "Seems like a hard task..."

I laughed when Matty shot me a particularly nasty glare, but relented.

"I'll be waiting on your many messages, my dear." I corrected, doing my best to feign the doting wife sending her husband off to war, even going as far as to clutch at my jumper in a pained goodbye.

"You’d better." Matty smirked and when I took a step away from the staircase, he decided to take that as his leave.

Though it was just as he was halfway out the front door that he paused and turned back to chance a glance at me, ring clad fingers toying with the latch on the inside lock. 

"We might've dropped the subject but, just know, if I ever see that ginger prick near you again I will put my fist through his face hard enough that he'll be shitting out my rings." And with that Matty dipped his chin at me once and let the door swing shut behind him.

I wasn’t ashamed to say that I stood there in the silence that encompassed the house for a very long moment, before my lips finally quirked upwards and I let myself laugh. 

It seemed that everyone was right, Matty Healy truly did have a way with words. Only, the wrong kind.

[purplesoulcollection]

Unnatural Love

Part 9 (2) Synopsis : Name has being transmigrated into the world of I'm Not That Kind Of Talent without ever reading the novel. She's not being reincarnated as a human but as a devil as well. Hi There! I want to let you know that this fanfiction story isn't solely my creation. I borrowed the concept from @quqiwo2. I haven't actually read the novel either, just some spoiler to the end.

I hope you'll excuse my spelling and grammar mistake, because English not my first language.

"Adele, just a heads up that I need to participate in the hunting competition next week." He surprised me with the news when I least expected it.

“Hunting? Sounds like fun! What's that for?”

Deon's reaction to my question wasn't a happy one; he seemed really stressed and overwhelmed by the news.

"The emperor hold a hunting competition to inform the world that the empire is not afraid to hold a contest in the middle of war." He spoke in the monotone way, looks like someone drop him to the grave and sucks his positivity.

"Oh, that sounds complicated. Are you okay with that?" I genuinely worried about him, ever since he brought this topic, he don't look too good for me.

He pressed his finger against his temple, looking quite pitiful with stress written all over his face. All I can do is offer him some comfort with a gentle stroke.

"It was tiring. The Emperor sent me a gift of clothes that I couldn't refuse to wearing!" He finally yelled, that’s likely the root of his stress.

"Is that too revealing for you?"

He shook his head and covered his face with his hand. "No, just the color..."

"Bad? "

"Too striking..."

Is that bold color on Deon really working for him? If it’s not a great match, maybe he should reconsider wearing it.

"Let me see, you give it a try later. If it's suitable for you, it might be the best for you!"

"Adele, don't you too... Remember already nagging at me too..."

"Who’s Remember?"

"My butler. The old man I talked to this morning, that's his name."

Remember is the head butler's name earlier?

Fix, I'm in a story made by earthlings. The English word doesn't really seem to fit as a character's name.

This definitely confirms that Deon is the main character of this world. No female character appeared at him makes this original story the mc is the male, not the female one.

"Adele, you tend to drift off into daydreams quite a bit, don’t you??"

"Oh, not quite! By the way, I’m feeling so famished, a nap makes me miss the food."

"As I thought, so I asked for lunch to be prepared."

And I was faced with luxurious food typical of nobles. A bowl of corn soup, some chicken in gravy, a dessert, and a piece of bread. It's just the right amount for one person.

"It's already cold, should i ask servant to reheat it?"

"You don't have to worry about that. I can still enjoy it even if it's not warm anymore." I quickly reject his idea, this is looks fine for me.

When I see the cutlery on the table, it really makes me wonder. I have no idea about the proper table etiquette, and it all seems so complicated. I glanced at Deon, giving him a look that said I was completely lost.

He who understood about my trouble after seeing me glanced at the cutlery said, "Just eat your way. I won't judge you."

So I used a spoon that was the right size for my needs and ate with gusto. Deon just looked at me eating hungrily.

"Have you eaten?" I asked Deon, with a mouth stuffed with food.

'If he hasn't eaten yet, perhaps I could share a little with him.'

"I’ve already had my meal, you were the one who overslept!."

'Has he now started to mock me, even though he always appears so weary himself in the devil world?'

"It can't be helped, I'm tired. Having no sleep at all really do the wonders."

"But you sleep too much, can you sleep tonight?"

I pressed my finger to my lips, contemplating whether I would get any sleep tonight or not, "No... I guess."

I can already imagine what I should do at night, maybe take a walk in the garden. because I won't have a fever like humans. The little perks in many disadvantage to became a devil.

"Want to go for a walk?" asked Deon, interrupting my thoughts.

“You want to go for a walk? I think you're tired already.” My voice soared with happiness. if Deon wants to join me, why not?

"If you can't sleep, it will affect my sleep cause I'm light sleeper."

"Okay. Let's go for a walk." I'm really excited to have my tour guide in this new world! I'm eager to learn about the human world during the kingdom era—what were the people like back then?

This could very well be my final moment of tranquility. I need to savor it to the fullest. Nothing can hold me back from my adventures.

"Done, madam. Please see the results, madam." The servants mentioned that they had finished making me look absolutely perfect.

I felt a mix of excitement and reluctance as I approached the mirror.

Ever since I became a servant of the devil, I hadn’t really looked at my reflection. My gray skin made me shy away from seeing myself, no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise..

But I'm human now. Let's look at our human version.

I couldn't help but admire myself the moment I caught a glimpse in the mirror. I turned out to be a very beautiful human being...

My hair was still a purplish silver color but I finally saw the face of a human whose beauty I could appreciate as a human being.

I was eager to snap a quick photo before switching back to my devil mode. However, there’s no camera available here, so I buried my futile hopes

Finally, the waiter's choice of dress was a pastel purplish pink dress. But I also realized that this dress suits me. Makes me look pretty and slay.

"Thanks for dressing me."

"No need to thank Madam, this is our duty."

I then turned to look back, noticing the way the skirt of the dress danced around me. The swaying of my skirt only added charm to my natural beauty and make me more confident than before.

"Madam, Master has been waiting outside."

“He's outside? I'll be right out.”

I quickly put on the small earrings that the maid had provided. I chose round pearl earrings. Feeling that my appearance was perfect, I hurried to go out. Want to quickly show off my new appearance.

"Deon!"

I shouted as I walked quickly towards Deon. He, who was initially arranging his gloves, turned to me.

Wow, he looks amazing, even though he's all covered up and the only thing you can see are his striking red eyes. But the his mysteriousness and coolness really being topped up.

He fell silent while opening his eyes wide. Not even saying a word for me.

Was he surprised because I was strange, even though I was already become human?

“How's my look? Is it strange for you?”

He simply averted his gaze, avoiding a proper look at me.

I moved towards him with such intensity that he couldn't bring himself to meet my eyes fully. I did my utmost to present myself as beautifully as possible.

"You are... good." He says that with shy and tried to hide his face even if he already use the a cloth mask.

But I still don't understand the implied compliment that he can't expressed.

"What type of compliment is that, Deon? Tell me whether am I beautiful or ugly in your eyes...?"

I'm so eager to see him compliment me, you know? Women looks the best when her lover praise her!

But he didn't meet my expectation, "Let's go! "

He ran away from me before he could give me a compliment, and I have no idea where we're headed.

"Wait for me, Deon!" I try to catch his super fast walking, but it's not so easy with this dress.

"DEON!"

To Be Continued

[wondereads]

December Reading Wrap-Up

The Villain Edit by Laurie Devore (★★★★☆)

I saw this author speak at Yallfest, hence why I decided to branch out quite a bit from my typical choices. The Villain Edit is a contemporary romance about a failed romance author who goes on a Bachelor-esque show to drum up sales for her backlist. She has a one night stand the day before production starts, who turns out to be a producer on the show. As much as this has the premise of a romance novel, I would consider it a contemporary novel with a strong side of romance. The focus is by and large on the development of the main character, Jac, as she struggles with her personal issues and starts to crack under the spotlight. I did enjoy the romance—even though the "love triangle" has a completely obvious end, Devore does some fun things with it—but I would have been perfectly content if Jac ended up alone, as long as she came to terms with herself.

Jac is a decidedly 'unlikeable' character, in both the show and the book, but she's highly entertaining to read about, and I felt a lot of empathy for her. She makes so many bad decisions and is unfailingly rude, but she rarely felt grating, even if I was banging my head against my steering wheel as I listened to the audiobook. There were some moments that felt a little misogynistic to me, but I think it was just playing into the dehumanizing aspects of reality tv. Even though this book is outside of my comfort zone, I had a great time with it, and it did a good job maintaining tension throughout.

Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir (★★★★★)

I am always blown away by how Tamsyn Muir constructs such intricate plots. I've read Harrow before, but I was still astonished by how neatly everything came together, each mystery playing into the others (I also have a crap memory so I forgot a lot of the book). Of the three Locked Tomb protagonists, Harrow is definitely my favorite. She's not 'funny' like Gideon or Nona, but she's snarky in her own way, and I have a soft spot for overachievers. She's also ridiculously competent and dedicated, and it's incredibly satisfying to see her always take it further than anyone thinks she will (soup).

Since I wasn't panicking about what the actual fuck was going on like the first time I read this, I got to slow down and take in more of the side relationships a bit more. Augustine and Mercy are both hilarious characters in their own right, and it's only multiplied when they're put together. I am an Ianthe hater (this would all be over if it wasn't for her), but she's just as compelling a character as everyone else. And then there's Jod. Fuck Jod. Anyway, on a technical level, Muir's writing is just breathtaking, with serious, flowery descriptions cut with hard-hitting, simplistic statements, occasionally lightened by humor that would be out of place in any other story. What an amazing book.

More books under the cut

Nona the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir (★★★★★)

It took me a while to decide to give Nona five stars. Not because it isn't a spectacular book, it is, but because I experienced so much emotional turmoil while reading it that I wanted to withhold a perfect rating out of spite. Paul?? You can't put Paul in a novel and expect me to reward you for it. And yet it's all so good there's no other option. I'm actually quite furious with myself that it took so long to catch on to what was happening. I've still got absolutely no clue how necromancy works, but it was very interesting to learn its origins, only recorded through Ye Olde Twitch.

I was very excited to see the return of a fan-favorite character. I was a bit worried she Came Back Wrong. She probably did a little, but for the most part it just seems like her own, genuine decision to behave in this way in some semblance of a quarter-life-crisis. The first half of the book is rife with amazing new relationships, though I am hesitant to describe it as found family as it only lasts around 300 pages before quickly becoming lost family (that's not a spoiler, Muir would never let anyone be happy). In terms of the worldbuilding, beyond the origin story, it was so interesting to see what life is like outside of the Nine Houses, and there are many new mysteries introduced. I think the thing I most want to know more about is what the hell is going on with the Resurrection Beasts. I'm sure I'm not alone when I say I wait news of Alecto eagerly.

For She Is Wrath by Emily Varga (★★★☆☆.5)

This started off as a very strong book. The story revolves around Dani, who used to be the daughter of an esteemed swordsmith before she was framed for the murder of a warlord and sent to prison. She is able to break out of said prison with the help of another young girl who just so happens to have a secret stash of magic. Dani puts this magic to use to disguise herself in order to infiltrate the royal court and take revenge on all who ruined her life—especially her former paramour, Prince Mazin..

I really liked Dani, the main character, and her pursuit of vengeance is a classic tale, even if this weren't a retelling. The very beginning is a little convenient (really, of all prison cells?), but once Dani is able to start working toward revenge I was hooked. I found the magic system intriguing, the romance had a lot of good tension, and it was incredibly satisfying to see the execution of said revenge. The big issue I had with this book was pacing. I seriously thought this would be the first in a series; it felt like there wasn't nearly enough time to do everything the characters wanted to in just over 400 pages. However, in the last 100 or so pages of this book, so much happens. A character is kidnapped and saved, an ill-advised bargain is made and broken, a big betrayal and a big reunion occur, on top of like seven other plot points. These major plot points, which would usually be given at least a full chapter if not multiple, were being cycled through with only a few pages each, not allowing the reader, or the characters, room to dwell on what was happening. It was so disorienting and unsatisfying that I docked what could have easily been a 4.5/4.75 star read down to 3.5.

The Last Graduate by Naomi Novik (★★★★★)

I don't really have much new to say about this one; I remembered it pretty well, I just reread it for potential use in my thesis. It was tough to stay focused on the actual reason I was combing through instead of just underlining every time El and Orion were in the same room. I continue to be obsessed with their relationship, even years after the series has ended. My favorite part of this book is probably the Scholomance itself; I love that it is shown to be somewhat sentient, even if it is only to fulfill the parameters of its creation. I honestly wish we could have gotten more of it as a character in its own right, but I know the plot wouldn't work otherwise.

The Golden Enclaves by Naomi Novik (★★★★★)

This one was a bit different. Still reading for my thesis, but I honestly forgot a good bit of the story, so there were some twists that surprised me once again. Novik is not subtle about the magical world being an allegory for ours, the fortunate creating problems (pollution, poverty, etc.) for the less so and needing to be forced to do something about it. The only truly fantastical thing about the whole situation is that El truly can single-handedly force them to care, which is quite cathartic to read. While there are a lot of new characters and relationships introduced in this book, and I'm a fan of all of them (particularly El and Liesel), my favorite is El's mom. Her and El play off each other well, and it's interesting to see the woman El constantly brings up in her narration.

Threads That Bind by Kika Hatzopoulou (★★★★☆.75)

I was not anticipating this book to be so good! Threads That Bind follows Io, who uses her skills as a Fate-born, allowing to see the threads of fate, as a private investigator in the city of Alante. Her latest case leads her to a run-in with an inhumanly strong and half-crazed woman who wields her own cut life thread as a weapon. Investigating the mystery leads Io to criminal gangs, up-and-coming politicians, and her own absent sister, all involved in something dark in the city's past. I think the mystery of this book was very good; I definitely had my suspicions for the ultimate culprit (and there were some red herrings that just felt unnecessary), but the process of Io discovering the truth was highly entertaining and it wasn't completely obvious.

I also loved the magic system! The idea of characters being distantly descended from various mythological figures, giving them appropriate powers, was very interesting, especially since it isn't the typical demigod approach. My favorite part of it is that the powers come in sets of siblings, each one playing a different role. For example, of her three sisters, Io is a Cutter, representing the Fate that cuts the threads of life, which allows her to sacrifice one of her own threads to cut someone else's. The worldbuilding is also one of my favorite tropes, which is that it seems to be Earth but far in the future, after some sort of climate disaster. I hope the rest of the series explains more of the history! Io herself was mostly a likable and easy-to-root-for protagonist. My one gripe with this book was that she felt a little too perfect sometimes, a lot of her mistakes and failings coming from her rough upbringing, not necessarily her personal flaws. Still, I enjoyed reading about her, and I really liked the romance. Her and Edei have a pretty natural progression from allies to friends to lovers that doesn't feel rushed, which is often an issue I have with YA romances these days. There was one thing I was hoping would happen, but I'm holding out for the sequel (the title, Hearts That Cut, bodes well). Overall, I really enjoyed reading this book, and I'm looking to get the second one soon!

Wolf Siren by Beth O'Brien (★★★★☆)

Can't say much about this one, it's unreleased and I read it for work, but it balanced an understandable middle grade writing style well with the heavy topics it addresses.

Forged by Blood by Ehigbor Okosun (★★★☆☆.25)

This one was a bit of a disappointment. Forged by Blood tells the story of Demi, an Oluso who can wield magic in a land that has forbidden it. She is hired by a lord to kidnap the prince of her kingdom, Jonas, in a deceptive bid to get him a higher position that would hopefully benefit her people. Demi does so with the help of her close friend, Colin, but a wrench in their plans requires them to go on a bit of a journey with the prince. This book isn't really advertised as such, but it's absolutely a romantasy, not a high fantasy. Demi's world is an unsubtle allegory for colonization, the northerners having overthrown the original royal family and oppressing literally everyone else. This is a typical plot, but it's not the unoriginality I have an issue with; it's the fact that the romance kind of neuters the whole metaphor. In an attempt to allow Demi a romantic relationship with Jonas, prince of her oppressors, the story has to take a whole forgiveness-and-collaboration approach to what is basically colonization, and it just misses the mark.

In general, I wasn't a huge fan of the romance in this book. There are a lot of plot gaps that clearly only exist to make room for popular romance scenes, and the romance just wasn't good enough for me to forgive that. I was sort of into it in the beginning, but that was more the concept; the characters don't really have much chemistry. The thing is, I really enjoyed Demi and Jonas as characters (Colin less so, he was clearly only there for love triangle drama). They're both passionate and dedicated, which the romance doesn't really add to. The magic system is also interesting, based on Nigerian mythology, but the book doesn't dwell on it as much as I'd like. Overall, there wasn't really anything egregiously wrong with this book, but it wasn't nearly as good as it could have been.

The Poppy War by R. F. Kuang (★★★★★)

Another thesis reread!

Impossible by Lyra Cole (★★★☆☆.75)

This book is an omegaverse about five incredibly damaged people. Indie is an isolated girl with an intense eating disorder who discovers that she is an omega. In this world, omegas and alphas live in relative secret, making the transition difficult for her on top of her psychological struggles. Meanwhile, Hollis, Joshua, Leon, and Risk are four alphas whose pack fell apart in a mysterious, violent 'incident,' leaving them all traumatized. Normally books like this shy away from the impact PTSD and depression can have on someone's life. Impossible doesn't sugarcoat how flashbacks and severe depression fuck with a person's psyche, which I really appreciated. This is first and foremost a romance book, but it still allocates a decent amount of time to discussing the characters' problems and their healing process.

Other than that, there is a loose political undercurrent in the story, things that have far too serious implications for an omegaverse romance duology. Concerning that, I would have appreciated more happening; I was anticipating a bit more conflict coming from that area. The romance itself is pretty good; Indie and Leon by far spend the most time together, so their relationship develops the most naturally. The others feel a bit rushed, but I still like them. The book feels a little vague and directionless, but I enjoyed the characters and romance.

Kushiel's Dart by Jacqueline Carey (★★★★☆.5)

My longest read of the year tells the story of Phedre no Dalaunay. In the country of Terre D'Ange, there is one precept valued above all others: love as thou wilt. D'Angelines have a unique desire for beauty that presents itself in art, governance, and, crucially, sex. In the Houses of Night, which worship Namaah, sex is their method of tribute, and Phedre, sold by her mother to Namaah's service, has known all her life what she is meant to do. The only thing out of the ordinary about her is a red mote in her eye, Kushiel's Dart, which marks her as someone who experiences pain and pleasure as one. A noble, Lord Delaunay, takes notice of Phedre and purchases her indenture to then train her in the art of espionage. Her position allow her into places typical spies have no access to, and her skills loosen her clients' tongues. But Terre D'Ange is unstable, and her subterfuge leads her into a conspiracy to take a kingdom.

For a book published in 2001, this book is astonishing pro-LGBTQ and sex-positive. It portrays an understanding and healthy depiction of BDSM, draws a tasteful line between consensual sex work and rape, and boasts multiple characters that are openly queer. It's more politics and arranged marriages that get in the way of relationships than gender. This is also a complex and compelling political fantasy, pulling in court intrigue, diplomatic relations, and pretty good accuracy for medieval Europe (the map is just Europe, Terre D'Ange is France, it's not subtle). Phedre herself is a wonderful protagonist; she is dedicated, headstrong but clever, and knows how to utilize her talents to the best of her abilities. She has multiple entanglements throughout the course of the novel, but there are two main relationships, both of which were wonderful to read. One is a deadly dance, exploring the lines between love and hate, and one is complete devotion as the two go through hell together. Even for a book that discusses sex so openly, there actually aren't many sex scenes and most take up very little space; don't go into this one expecting a ton of smut. My only complaint is that the story does drag at times; it is over 1000 pages. I would read the trigger warnings before picking up this book, but otherwise I highly recommend it if you're looking for an in-depth political fantasy.

Otherworldly by F. T. Lukens (★★★★☆)

This was a cute, lighthearted paranormal romance between a goddess' familiar and a teenager who doesn't believe in magic. Ellery's region of the world has been stuck in an eternal winter for five years, but they might have a chance to save their city (and their family's farm) when they meet Knox, a familiar who's gone rogue for the chance to live his own life for once. The deal is simple: Knox helps Ellery discover why their Goddess has abandoned them, and Ellery helps Knox experience normal teenage things. Lukens has always been quite good at writing these cozy fantasy romances; they use magic tropes well to further the romance. I've previously had issues with them creating a world that 300-page romances just don't have time to explore, but this one was pretty self-contained and I didn't feel unsatisfied at the end.

The romance itself is very cute; Ellery and Knox play off each other well, and the story doesn't feel overly contrived or too rushed. I do think it's a little ridiculous that this one area of the world has been trapped in winter for five years and Ellery still doesn't believe in the supernatural. Oddly, it was the skepticism that broke my immersion. However, once they get past that, I thoroughly enjoyed the story. If you're looking for cute, fantastical romances, F. T. Lukens is a great bet, and I've enjoyed every book from them I've read.

[georgeismyfavoritebeatle]

George Harrison x fem! OC

Summary: George and his girlfriend have a discussion about his hair

I'm thinking it takes place in like, 1969 ish

//

"Do you like my hair?"

They were on the bed, and it'd be relatively quiet while she read her novel. The question had Lucy's gaze shifting next to her where George sat up, his legs crossed at the ankle.

"What?"

"Do you like my hair?" He repeated, looking interested in her answer. He'd started growing it out where it now laid on his shoulders.

She shrugged, going back to her book. "I don't care."

Lucy made a noise of protest when George swiftly took the book, shutting it and setting it on the nightstand on his side.

"George!"

"Come on, Luce," he said, giving her those puppy dog eyes. "Answer the question."

"It's your hair. Do what you want with it."

"That's not an answer," he grumbled. Lucy rolled her eyes.

"Give me my book back."

He sighed but did as she demanded. "Ye always have opinions about everything else."

"Maybe I just don't care what you do with your own hair," Lucy opened it back up, frowning as she tried to find what page she'd been on.

"You've got to tell me what ye think about it," George said. She groaned. "Come on, I know you've got something to say."

She let out a breath through her nose, sitting up, snapping her book so she could lean over to him. "Fine. You want to know? I keep scissors on me so I can wait for the perfect time to chop it all off."

A tiny smirk crept up George's face, one he was poorly trying to suppress. "I could do without the sarcasm, thanks."

"And I-" She leaned forward again to softly kiss his lips, "could do without the stupid questions."

"It's not stupid, I'd like to know."

Sighing dramatically, she said, "Baby, I love your hair. I don't care what you do with it."

George self-consciously touched the back of it. "You think it looks alright like this?"

Lucy scooted herself into his personal space, resting her forehead against his. "It's more than alright."

He tilted his head to kiss her sweetly. When they parted, she put the back of her hand on his cheek.

"You're a bit warm."

"I know," he pushed some hair off his shoulder. "It's getting a bit hot, the hair is."

"Want me to plait it for you?" Lucy offered.

"No," he frowned a little.

"If you're worried about looking like a girl, it's a little too late for that," she tugged on his hair with a grin.

He jabbed her in the side, and she giggled, squirming away.

"No need to be so cheeky," he mock scolded her.

Lucy looked quite smug there for a moment or two. Then she said, You've got a hair bobble anywhere?"

"Afraid not."

She huffed, reaching back on her own nightstand to grab one. "You're going to need one, can't be using all of mine."

She directed him to turn around, asking for his cumb and began to comb out hair.

"Feels good, ay?" She said airily.

"Mmm, yes," George breathed out. "Might have to have you do this more often."

She kissed the back of his head, unable to keep her smile back.

"Why is your hair better than mine, though?" Lucy complained. "It's so smooth and there's barely any tangles."

"Can't help it if mine's perfect, Luv- ow!"

"Oops,' she said nonchalantly.

"That hurt!"

"Shut up and I won't pinch you, then."

Lucy carefully pulled half of his hair together, wrapping it up into a bun and leaving the rest of it down.

"There. How's that?"

She held up a mirror for him to see.

"Really good, thanks," he said sincerely.

"Good, now I can return to my book," Lucy laid back down, only to be swept into George's arms.

"I was thinking of something else, actually."

The book was thrown to the floor, forgotten as a stream of laughter left Lucy whilst she was kissed over and over.

[animehouse-moe]

Link Click Season 2 Episode 4: Let It Unfold

As we enter into the heart of this season in terms of story, the opening of this episode does struggle a little bit with some all-too-convenient exposition about Qian Jin, which thankfully the latter half makes you forget all about. Potentially a bit of rough writing to give viewers information, as we slip into the past we shed those struggles and present a more expected but refreshingly different plot line. Certainly still a good episode, and certainly still a good bit to talk about.

So like I said, the episode itself doesn't start off incredibly strong by any means. It details all the information leading up to the current events: the phone missing, the picture Lu Guang has, Qian Jin's past, and so on and so forth. I don't think it's explicitly bad, but it feels like rushed writing for the story. A big old exposition dump from multiple parties, it feels like. Personally, I definitely believe they could have done a better job with conveying the information, but I also think it would take considerably more screen time to do so which is where this tradeoff stems from in the first place most likely.

Anyways, I'll just quickly expand on a few of those key details here.

Qian Jin's contact with Xixi. They're obviously aware of one another, but apparently were not working together explicitly at this moment. Qian Jin's surprised to hear that his lackey doesn't have Liu Min's phone, but isn't unaware of who's calling or shocked at the phone call when (presumably) Xixi makes contact.

Qian Jin's past. A by the books cop that gets turned sour after the death of a loved one. It's not a novel story by any means, but is clearly the foundation for some sort of interaction with Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi. It does make me wonder though if Xiao Li will play a role in talking down Qian Jin, or if Cheng Xiaoshi will take over Xiao Li himself, since he's the one who oversaw the murder case.

And the last piece: the weight of Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang's powers. Not quite exposition, but definitely the most important piece of dialogue through this front half. It continues to establish the regret and grief the pair feel over their previous forays into the past, and their hesitation and wariness of continuing with it once more. It's the natural conclusion from the first season, so I'm glad to see it referenced so heavily whenever the past arises between these characters.

Anyways, into the past we go with Cheng Xiaoshi as Xixi. I think similar to the first half there's not a world of stuff to talk about, but overall it's the much stronger and more put together sequence in the episode. The struggle of a single mother with a mute daughter is felt rather quickly through the story, and Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang are firing off piece after piece of information for the viewer to soak up.

Overall, it's a really solid sequence that teleports viewers back into the season 1 mindset as we explore experiences of the past and their regrets, challenges, and fears. Considering how well fitted it is to the overall idea of this season, I'm really curious to see how they move forward and how often we find ourselves diving back in time.

Regardless of my thoughts though, as I just said there's quite a bit of info here and there to take in, so let me highlight it really quickly.

We'll start off with this interesting notion. By pulse alone, the doctor could tell something was different with Xixi. This itself means that when Cheng Xiaoshi takes over the body of a person, they exert physical changes to some degree. Arguably only temporary changes, but a stronger pulse and physical capabilities were shown here specifically.

It's also just funny because Cheng Xiaoshi was worried about this specifically.

Next up is the eyes of the mother. This one makes things more complicated, as she shares the same eye color (but not pupil shape) with Lu Guang. Equally as interesting is the fact that Xixi's original eye color (that reddish-pink) does not come from her mother, but presumably her father? Considering that, is it possible that Xixi's father is the source of Lu Guang's abilities, and that the father (who has Xixi's eye color) is the one chasing Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang? That presents the question though of why a father would attempt to kill his own son, which is the right kind of dramatic for Link Click, if not a bit of a stretch.

Next up is our first callback to the opening, our stuffed animal. I know it doesn't look exactly alike the 3D one because of the style, but if you pay attention the design on the ears is the same. A rounded triangle on one, and a star on the other.

This indicates to viewers both the number of pasts we visit in this season, and also the order of them. We've started with the stuffed animal, will move onto the gun, and finish with the diary. Now, I'm unsure of who the diary may belong to, but I'm somewhat confident that the gun story will be related to Qian Jin who's past we learnt of today.

The next piece is this curious question: the deceased owner of a phone that was texted information about Qiao Ling. The name is Liu Lan, which has the same surname is Liu Min. Are they actually related? Is Liu Min the real brother of Xixi? It raises an incredible interesting question of just how things came to be, and if it actually is Liu Min that's Xixi's brother, or if there's any relation to Lu Guang. Incredibly curious detail to reveal, that I'm very interested to learn more about.

And last but not least, Cheng Xiaoshi's realization. Is it Liu Min's father that touches Xixi's mother on the shoulder? Or is it someone else that Cheng Xiaoshi would recognize? Whoever it is, their expression relays the notion to the viewer that Cheng Xiaoshi knows the person that's in front of them at this moment.

From here, we end the episode with (presumably) Xixi waiting for Cheng Xiaoshi to discuss things with him. Are they planning on airing out all of the pasts to provide a reversal of events? Knowing the past they now aim for the future? It's an interesting question to pose, but without knowing what it is that (presumably) Xixi wants to tell Cheng Xiaoshi, it's hard to say for sure what direction we'll be moving in with the next episode.

Building a mystery atop several smaller mysteries, all the while taking into account timelines and order of events can be challenging. So far though, Link Click S2 seems to have a pretty confident read on how it wants things to go down. At times it might be a little too literal with how it hands out information, but at its core it still aims for the heart like season 1 did, which leaves me very hopeful for how things go as we continue on here. Very much looking forward to the next episode.

[tobiastotoby]

Updated this older work because i haven't uploaded anything new in a while, chapter 1 is just fluff

~~~~~

Arcade's job was a little boring, all he really had to entertain himself was Freeside gossip and drama from the randoms who needed help. So, when a random man from the Mojave stormed through Freeside immediately getting to speak to the king, earning favors from him and getting to walk straight into the Lucky 38, made his day so much more interesting. It seemed to be all anyone would talk about Arcade had seen the illusive courier when he came in talking to Julie, he got a glimpse of the admittingly quite handsome man, how the Mojave created such a man was beyond him. 

Julie always had something for the courier to help with, and with all the times he got shot, he really needed the supplies she gave him in return. This time Julie had told him to find a follower of the Apocalypse to go with him, he had asked a couple people around but it seemed none of them would really be boring to travel with, until he stepped into Arcades research tent. Eyes immediately connected making Arcade’s insides turn, but trying his best to stay composed. 

The courier spoke first “Can you shoot, i need one of the followers”

“Yeah, i mean i'm just a researcher, but i have pretty good aim, there is probably someone much more capable than me ” Arcade thought that man was got but didn't really want to be shot at.

“I really doubt anyone else can do much of anything, you should come with me”

“Look no offense, i understand you need someone but why would i go with you” 

“Well i need a good looking doctor to help take care of me out there” the courier replied 

Acade was almost completely stunned all he could do was mumble “Over flirtation will get you everywhere”

That was days ago, the two had been walking and getting into fights since then and all adrcade could do was keep going. The courier was much stupider than he had thought it made Arcade do nothing but worry, how could such a man be so incapable of helping himself. It had to be divine intervention keeping and the radiation of the wasteland mutating into something so resilient. Even though Arcare started to feel pity for his simple mind he still felt the attraction he felt when they first met. If anything it was growing with how easy it felt to talk to the courier even if he didn’t understand the more complicated stuff. 

Although he was simple he had been kind to so many people. His selflessness was his most shining quality, Arcade really enjoyed helping the residents of free side and saving people in the wastes. His time with the courier had really opened his eyes to the different ways people had to survive. All the help only made the courier seem like a man, the kind that would take care of Arcade like a romance novel. 

Arcade enjoyed every second with him, the long days of walking, all the shooting, but also the soft moments of sitting around the fire, cooking for each other, and the one beautiful night it was too cold to sleep alone. The courier was also enjoying every day together, even going as far to orchestrate a cold night like that one to try and cuddle again. 

“Hey, six, are you sure you should be that close to the fire?” Arcade worried once again with how he chose to cook food

“But what if the fire takes my food” The courier’s question being completely serious

“I promise i won't let it” Arcade felt only the need to keep this man safe from his own self

“Arcade you’ve been cool, helping me with food, and it's so good, almost no char’d bits” the courier looked up from his food to look at Arcade “I really love having you travel with”

“Oh, i'm glad i’ve been so helpful, you are just really easy to get along with, life was a little boring until you showed up” Arcade didn’t expect to tell on his own self so soon

“Oh really, so all the complaints about the walk are for show then?” The courier wasted no opportunity to tease Arcade

“Well just because i don't like the heat doesn't mean i don't like being around you” Teasing wasn’t something Arcade was used to “i just dont like the extreme weather, a nice 72 would be fantastic”

“Well its pretty cold tonight , do you need protecting from the cold like before”

“So what if i do” Arcade understood the invitation in his words and could not pass it up

“It's late so would you maybe be ready to sleep now?” The courier got up to start putting out the fire

“Yeah”

Arcade got up to follow the courier to the spot they would sleep, and old mattresses in the random building they stopped at for the night, they even had a door with a lock on it. Last time they had been a little too drunk to remember how they got into bed together, but this time it was like a dance. Arcade following so close behind the courier like he had become accustomed to. The slow descent into the bed and shuffling to get comfortable. Both feeling so comfortable with each other, all the time spent together turns into moments of bliss and comfort. Something Arcade made the courier want to beg for his attention, the two getting to be so soft with the other. It made it all worth it, and as the pair fell into blissful sleep, dreaming of the other, only fueled the desire they had for each other.

[otobabe]

Omg girlie (gender neutral) I was not expecting you to include Kondou!!! If you have others you’re thinking ab def tell us!

ugh kondou is just so good!!!! and that's not just my daddy issues talking!!!

More praise thoughts/headcanons~

(from) Harada: He's infatuated with his partners, that much is certain. Especially in the beginning of a relationship (or fwb situation) he's full of compliments that make you feel like you're in the center of a nsfw fairytale, examples like "oh my god you're adorable" and "you really know how to get me going". Later on, if you express interest in exploring~ and more praise, he'd get really into praises that emphasize size differences or age differences. "I love to see your little hole taking my big cock so well", "My older man/woman/partner is so good at teaching me new things", "What a cute little princess/prince/majesty you are, riding daddy's big dick so well " (yes i am assigning sano both milf fucker and daddy kink, this is my barbie dream house)

(to) Souji: in the right moments you'll send shivers down Souji's spine with a "Souji-kun~ you look so cute like this~", praises with a teasing edge, almost on the brink of sounding degrading, can get him blushing and embarrassed from how hard he gets hearing it come from your mouth. He likes to banter and has more attitude and walls up than most can bear, just make sure if your praising him it's playful and not too serious or accidentally hurtful ;)

from) Amagiri the type to kiss you mid-moan then send you reeling with his low voice telling you "Quiet now, I want to hear how wet you are for me/I want to hear you take in my thrusts". Erotic, deep, sensual, that's the game Amagiri plays, but it comes out naturally. Nothing he says will sound like he read it from some '50 ways to get in their pants' how-to book. He's kinky, but classy, urging you on both with his words and his fingers, and it's a pleasant surprise when you catch him teasing you with a hint of a smile like, "don't give in now, I'm just getting started".

to) Motoyama: To be friends with Iba and to have taught Iba many many things over their lives, Motoyama has got to have some special characteristics, one of those is that he loves to be praised. Iba might praise his partner often, but as far as his bestie goes it doesn't happen often but is very genuine when it does, and that's something Motoyama craves in romantic experiences too! I know I said this about Nomura as well, but it's true for both of them: Motoyama looooves to be called a "pretty boy", he doesn't have that haircut for nothing. He's also a reader and though he's not normally reading romance, he does love praises with a little more substance to them, "You're intoxicating", "i love how obedient you are", "you look so silly squirming like that, but don't worry, I know you can endure this<3", all examples of words that will keep him straining in his pants 💖

more praise headcanons below the cut!

from) Ootori: Ahhhh Ootori Keisuke, my sassy "30-something" plot device lol. He's such a tease, you'd be surprised how much filth can come out of his outwardly-polite mouth. This tea drinking, romance novel reading, aristoCAT is all about shmoozy words in bed. Honestly, he's quoting from stuff he's read before and hoping you won't notice. "You look as beautiful as the morning glory's flower, my love~ Your legs are opening up for me quite nicely~", whenever he opens his mouth it makes you question whether or not you should expect better from him, or whether it's exactly the kind of charming corniness you need in your life (it is). He wants to come home to you trying on some new lingerie and praise "what a thoughtful little slut you are<3", he wants to bring you almost to orgasm over and over again and then tease that he "loves how needy you are".

from) Kimigiku: Ugh the most perfect femdom is here!!! She can give you gentle or kinky, it's all about giving YOU what YOU want. While not exclusively a service top, she does love to give a lot of coaxing like "doing so good, princess/prince/majesty" and "i'll take care of you cutie, i promise, just give me one more, I know you can". Now let's say you've touched her nerves a little this week: stayed out a little late with your coworkers, or gave her attitude a couple times... She's more than willing to tie you up and taunt you, telling you "Oh, I'm sure you can get out of those restraints yourself, right? Such a big strong man/woman/lover that I have". She'll degrade you and make it sound like the most enchanting curse you've ever heard; "I love using you", "No one else could ever match up to you, my biggest whore<3", "You don't need to cum, right? It's enough just to please me, right?"

from) Yamazaki: Hakuouki's own sweet little romantic nerd + killer spy <3 Idk if anyone else was surprised that he's canonically supposed to be 30 but I was when I first saw it lol! He's experienced: with sneaking around, one night stands, keeping things quiet, but when he finds someone special he turns into a blushing mess. His duality also pertains to praise, he likes hearing it and giving it, and he also likes giving and receiving degradation, just not normally at the same time ;). If you want him to he'll definitely put on his spy persona in bed for you! That said, he loves to assure you "Don't worry, you're safe with me, you can let it all out, you sound so beautiful", and loves to make little promises in bed when you're pleasing him like "That's my baby, I'll reward you so well for this. I love to see you full of me".

to) Yamazaki: Like I said, I think he's a duality-pleasing man. Praise him in bed and he's working double time to please you. Very enthusiastic when hearing what you like, if you tell him "I love it when you give me head", he'll make sure to spend extra time pleasing you down there~

to) Miki: Beat up his ego a little bit. Unlike Souji, Miki is a brat who can take what he gives. He's down with being called a slut/whore/etc or being referred to as your sex toy. If you top him it's a secret turn on of his to get embarrassed so saying "I know it hurts but you're taking it so well!" is an insta-nut. He's also into hearing you egg him on when he's being a brat and rub it in when he gives in, "You're such a good listener when I give you what you need, huh?" and "Can't you beg sweeter than that? Or is it beneath you even when you're already on your knees for me?"

from) Miki: Aaaaand he gives as good as he gets~ His mouth is filthy, and he's shameless when it comes to fucking you. Brash and abrasive, he'll tell you that "you look so beautiful with my cock in your mouth" with a haughty smirk on his face and he knows his confidence is a turn on in this case. He's not pussyfooting around what he means, with "you can beg better than that, little slut" often proceeding a later groan of "your screams sound so good baby". If you've been flirting or sexting before meeting up, he loves to throw in a "I've been waiting all day to put my cock in you" as soon as he walks through the door.

[lamuradex]

40K In 42 Days Update: Week Four

@the-wip-project

Less than a week remains!!! I've really enjoyed this so far, because I always like having a good excuse to write rather than just because I should.

So okay, what's my score this week.

Wordcount Last Week: 35,618 Words - 89.0450%

Wordcount This Week: 40,550 - 101.3750%

Woohoo! I've done it! I've got the majority of a novel written in 40 Days. I'm quite happy about that.

But I'm also not done.

As I said in the previous entry, I'm going to do my best to finish this novel before the end of the contest. I've got like five chapters left, but since there's only 5 or so days left, I'm not overly hopeful. Still, I'll do what I can. Who knows, maybe I'll just get in a writing frenzy.

Now, the snippet of what I've been writing. This time my main characters, Gideon and Maddy, are preparing to confront a wretched man who seems to be stabbing them in the back for no good reason. All the while, Gideon's getting a little worried about Maddy being involved.

Enjoy, and I wish everyone luck for the final stretch of the contest.

The Bitters Mansion loomed like a thing that could really loom. Like a cathedral or a gallows. There wasn’t much point comparing it to something else, because its looming was just that absolute. At least it was when you had even some idea of the things that happened inside it. And in that case, you likely moved and avoided the looming altogether. It was never good to be in the shadow of something that loomed, because there was usually a terrible reason why it was looming, waiting, ready for victims of its grim work.

Gideon stopped and wondered what the fuck he was talking about.

Him and Maddy were across the road, getting ready to go in. A grave and wretched place, haunted by the actions of the man who owned it. And Gideon knew the stories. Everyone knew the stories. And that was why most people steered clear of Alfred Bitters. Even people were just property to him.

“Last chance to back out,” Gideon offered. “I am begging you, please wait out here.”

“And what if something happens to you?” Maddy countered.

“Then you can go and get help or avenge my death. You can’t do that if you’re in there with me.”

“I got us into this by accepting Bitters’ deal, Gideon. I’m helping.”

Gideon looked over, but any pride that she was behind him was tinged a deep and dark regret. Regret that he couldn’t talk her out of it, regret that she was here at all, and regret that he taught her to be that stupidly brave to begin with. At least he thought he taught her that….

“Maddy, are you really sure about this? Do you not just want to go home? Because you don’t have to be like me,” he counselled. “You don’t have to do this.”

Maddy looked a little surprised, but bounced back well. “I’m not being you, Gideon. I’m old enough to make my own choices. And I’m choosing to take responsibility.”

Gideon tutted. “God, forsake the nun that taught you guilt, Miss Anthorne.”

“God ain’t got nothing to do with it,” Maddy said confidently. “Now, let’s head in.”

“Alright. If I can’t dissuade you…” He gave her one last moment to renege. She didn’t. He continued. “Then we need a plan.”

“You’re making a plan? We don’t usually.”

“Needs must as the devil is driving towards a cliff.” Gideon said sourly. “I’ll go an in by myself and meet-”

“I said I’m coming with you-”

“Meanwhile!” Gideon cut of her objection. “You split off and flank them. Once we’ve got multiple angles on him, we’ll be in a better shape. Got it?”

“And what if he has security with him?”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it,” Gideon pressed on. “You ready?”

“Sure. Now let’s do this. Bitters is getting his head kicked in,” she smirked.

Gideon didn’t argue, though the enthusiasm bothered him. He was starting to suspect Madeline couldn’t feel the terrible looming of the house. The ignorance of youth, he guessed. To him it was like walking under a guillotine.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Chapter 3 - Shot Through The Heart

One lovely early morning, Katrina put her coat on and went to meet up with Jim from IT; Funny enough, the two became such good friends that they incorporated this morning coffee and park stroll activity into their routine. Since her best friend and flatmate, Lea, got a boyfriend, she began spending more time with him and their common group of friends. Due to many schedule differences, Katrina could never really find the time to join in their fun - Nor did she feel too welcomed anyway. Regardless, the flat was so... Dark and quiet, in spite of the many fairy lights or the constantly playing music. No matter how homely she made her home, it still felt cold and empty... Lonesome. That was the right word - It was lonesome. She felt lonely.

It didn't matter that Sherlock and John were just below her, or that she met James every morning, and interracted at work with Molly and Greg; At the end of the day, there was no one waiting her home, except for her old baby girl, Fifi. She was old, growing tired, startled, almost blind and deaf. Bless her heart.

The only bit of excitement she's had was in the unfortunate case of the block being bombed, as Lestrade informed - Thankfully, not hard enough that it destroyed her own flat, but bad enough that Sherlock's windows shattered to hell. Poor Mrs. Hudson!

Regardless - A lovely morning like many others, a sweet coffee in her hand, and great company by her side, strolling through a gorgeous park - A lovely day indeed. 

"I'm curious, Jim... How has your life shifted since you started working in this place. Since you got caught up with the whole mess with Molly, myself, Sherlock... Poor hacker boy must have no free time of peace and quiet." the bluenette chuckled at him, taking a sip from the hot drink.  "It's certainly entertaining, that's true. I'm glad I got to meet you, though. I don't really have friends... I guess I'm too much of an introvert. This feels like a breath of fresh air." he gave a timid smile, making her nod in understanding, an ever-lasting smile on her face. "It's fun hearing such exciting stories told from different people. It's like making a puzzle, putting together evidence and painting the whole picture yourself. It only made me want to meet your friend, Sherlock, even more. He sounds like a brilliant detective, like you read in Agatha Christie's novels!"

"Oh, you like them too, don't you! Why, I thought the exact same thing - Yes, handling cases together feels like a more dangerous Christie novel indeed!" the lady sparkled with glee hearing that. "Although - I can't say meeting Sherlock would be a... Spectacular experience. You see - He can be... Quirky." she tried to speak politely; He was never rude to her like he was with Anderson or others, but with how unpredictable he could be, she was quite afraid of introducing them together. She didn't want Sherlock's insensitive nature to hurt her friend. "And I wouldn't call him very emotionally intelligent... He can be... A little rude; He doesn't have a filter when he speaks, and he's very blunt."

"How scary!" Jim's eyes widened. "I wouldn't want to make a bad first impression - You and Molly both are friends with him, I wouldn't want to..." he cleared his throat. "Anyway, that doesn't matter; Molly said he comes by the office very rarely anyway. With how cooped up I am in the IT department cubicle, I don't think I'll have the pleasure anyway. Maybe for the better."

"Well, don't worry - If the opportunity arises, I'll try to keep the ocean smooth! Hopefully, Molly would be there too - It would help a lot, I think." she smiled brightly, patting his back reassuringly. "How's the game going?"

"I managed to get around with the game beta testing prototype. I have the stick with me... If you want to try it out and give me your feedback. It's supposed to be kind of like... A domino effect. You have to solve a puzzle that will get you to another, and so on. It's like a chain reaction." he explained, making the lady grin at him brightly, quickly snatching the USB stick and putting it in her purse. "As soon as I get home, I'll try it out without a doubt! I'm so excited to see what you've created. Thanks for trusting me enough with your game, Jim. You're the best." she winked at him playfully, as he feigned bashfulness. She hasn't had such a fun friendship for ages.

"Now, now - We wouldn't want to make Sherlock jealous, would we?" he winked back before they both started laughing.

"Sherlock, jealous? Ha! I have heard them all! The only thing Sherlock would ever be jealous about would be someone potentially smarter than him - And his brother. Though, he's very childish about his sibling rivalry petty feud." they giggled like two school kids. "The moment Sherlock Holmes shows jealousy is the moment the world implodes!" she threw her hands in the air with a theatrical exclaim, as if she was a incurring Divine Retribution.

"You are so dramatic!" he laughed back at her. "So I've been called, dear friend!" she displayed mock pride, like a super model winning Miss Universe. Her moment of glory quickly vanished once her phone started beeping, and she received a most confusing picture. "Forgive me, I have to call the very man." he gestured for her to go ahead and do her thing. "Hello? Sherlock? Can you please tell me why, exactly, did you send me a picture of the basement of Mrs. Hudson's spare apartment? It looks rather ominous, you know?" she found herself saying. "Hold on - Are you on a case? Is this from Moriarty?"   "I knew it - I KNEW IT! It just HAD to be that place!" Sherlock exclaimed as if he'd just discovered God himself. "You're a life saver as always, bless your soul!" even through the phone, it seemed as though he was gleaming with excitement.

"Sherlock, please, tell me what's this all about - If it is Moriarty, you know it concerns me and my safety - Especially after what happened with that bomb." Katrina whined, pleading him to speak to her already. "Is there going to be another bomb? Is this picture some kind of clue? A treasure hunt kind of game?"

"I suspect someone started a most amusing game, and I am more than eager to play it." the detective seemed more than enthusiast; Katrina didn't know, however, that the IT specialist next to her was sporting a shady look on his face; He was elated to see her intuition at work, before his very eyes. "I'll go there now and call you once I've found something. We'll see from there." "Alright, fine... I'll be at the lab. I'll be waiting..." she muttered, not happy with the vague response. "Oh, and, Sherlock? Please - Please, be safe. I don't want anything happening to you."

She heard a small exhale from the other end of the line; Amused, yet somewhat grateful. "See you soon." it sounded like a promise of reunion - A promise that he'll return safe and sound, just like a husband at war, returning home after many hard years. "James - Forgive me, my mind's in a million places. Do you mind if we return to the office? I think I want to start up on today's work." she stopped in her tracks, looking visibly worried, with her head in the clouds.

"Are you alright? Did anything happen to Sherlock?" she shook her head, reassuring her friend that everything was just fine.

"Yes, don't worry - If Sherlock says he will be fine, he will be." she nodded her head, as if to convince herself. "Are we still up for Karaoke tonight? It's 80s-90s rock ballads night - Our favourite."

"Certainly! I wouldn't miss it for anything!" Jim's smile made her heart feel a little lighter ; Together, they bought another coffee and returned to the office. Molly was there when they returned - Seeing them together, smiling at each other and vibing seemed to make her smile tremble a little. Her mind was too cloudy, and tainted by doubt.

During the time Katrina was doing her work, Sherlock discovered a most peculiar pair of old shoes - And more, he received a call from the pink phone they received in a lovely Bohemian envelope - A pink phone resembling perfectly that of Jennifer from the Study of Pink case. The phone was read by a victim having a bomb strapped to her body, reading the words written by Moriarty for Sherlock - A puzzle he had to solve in twelve hours, if he wanted to save the poor woman.

Thus, Sherlock and John rushed to the hospital where Katrina and Molly were working, and he burst into the lab, startling them both. "I'm bust. Let's keep unnecessary pleasantries to a minimum - Help me out or keep quiet." the detective started investigating every little inch of that old pair of trainers. "John, brief Katrina on the case. The basics. Make it quick."

"Well, uh... Sherlock got this picture that led us to Mrs. Hudson's basement, as you know, and we found this shoes. There's a woman strapped with a bomb and we have to save her by solving the puzzle in less than twelve hours." John briefed her quickly. "And, uh... I guess that's as far as I know."

"Alright. How can I help?" the bluenette asked with sharp keen.

"Help me find the origins of the mud and pollen on the trainers." at once, without another word spoken between the two, both Sherlock and Katrina sat down in front of their microscopes and computers, searching for information on the mud sample.

"I-, uh... I'll go get some coffee!" Molly chuckled awkwardly, rushing out of there; She didn't quite like not getting any kind of attention - She felt completely invisible. Her heart sank, seeing Sherlock confide in her friend, after only meeting her a few days or weeks prior, whilst he'd known her for years now, and all he does is take her for granted... It was so unfair! Still, she couldn't... She couldn't think ill of either of them. She cared dearly for them both... And she was dating Jim! He was a lovely man... Although he was nothing like Sherlock, to whom both her mind and heart were lingering on.

It was quiet for a few good minutes, with only the technology making soft noises that went deaf on their ears - John - Poor John was feeling uncomfortable and on edge. "So, who d’you suppose it was?" John asked, receiving no answer. "The woman on the phone – The crying woman. The hostage."

"Does it have any relevance to the case?" Katrina found herself asking, her mellow voice not bothering Sherlock's thinking in the least. 

"For God’s sake, I wasn’t thinking about leads or anything like that!" John seemed almost surprised at the lack of sympathy expressed even by the lady herself. "Don't you care what happens to her? Who she is, why she was picked and all that?"

"We are here to solve the case - Solving the case is equal to saving her, from what I've understood." the blue haired lady replied impassively. "Wait, so, you don't care what happens to her? Who she is, why she was picked and all that?" the doctor almost freaked out at her passiveness.

"If her identity didn't play a part into her being taken hostage, then knowing who she is won't help us save her." the lady replied - In a way, the detective was rather grateful for her bothering to answer of all John's stupid and mundane questions - After all, it was saving him precious time and thinking resources. She had Godly patience - He could never. "Are- Are they trying to trace it, trace the call?" John continued to worry after a few brief seconds of silence.

"I don't they they are bothering with that." the lady replied again. "It's Moriarty we're talking about - He's far too meticulous to leave any unwanted trace behind him. The only way to save our hostage is to solve his puzzle within the time limit." Thankfully, the veteran's flurry of questions was stopped by Sherlock's phone ringing; He was receiving text messages, based on the notification ring.Sherlock ordered his friend, who may or may not have looked around the room, confused as to the whereabouts of the phone. "His jacket." Katrina replied instantly, not even shifting her sight from the microscope. "His... His what...?" John blinked in confusion is disbelief at the ridiculous request. Sighing, knowing it would take far too long for John to budge and actually aimlessly dig into the inside pocket of his flatmate's jacket, Katrina stepped behind the very man, her hand carefully reaching around him, pickpocketing the phone with her nimble fingers, before handing it to John. She had to admit, the short action almost felt like a hug - She quite liked it. Unbeknownst to her, Sherlock's muscles stiffened a little at the close contact - He wasn't used to being touched by other people, he was the one to initiate the touching, and only if necessary. He had his boundaries, like any other person -- He had to admit, though, this one he didn't mind at all.

"Who's it?" Sherlock finally spoke.

"May I...?" was she asking for his permission to access his phone? What a darling!

"Yes, yes -- Just tell me if it's relevant." not bothering to shift his attention from his search, he waited impatiently for an answer.

"Oh! It's a text from your brother! Can I say hi?" Sherlock rolled his eyes - That was so childish. Still, he just waved his hand dismissively - Do what you want, basically. "It's about some missile plans, and a man called Andrew West. How should I reply?"

"Just whatever - I'm not bothering with him and his stupid case. If he wants the case solved, he should get a better diet plan and do some legwork for once." the petty rivalry was being unearthed once again - It made the girl giggle, he was adorable when he behaved like a brat. "He can say he's losing weight all he wants - I know the truth. Those muffins have sugar, not stevia. He's put a pound and a half since the last time I saw him - No, a pound and three quarters actually." she lived for this sibling drama.

"Alright, I'll tell him you're busier with better cases!" he didn't reply. 'Hello, Mycroft! I am sorry to say, Sherlock asked me to inform you he is not interested in the case you presented him with. Currently, he is busy with given by Moriarty - A puzzle he has to solve within the time limit, to save a hostage from exploding. Have a lovely day, and good luck with the case! ~ Katrina.' it was the first time she's signed herself by her real name - Her official name. It was weird, making the jump from her nickname, to her original one, but sooner or later, she'd have to. She loved her name, and she loved being called Kat. She missed it, from the people back home... Alas, she had no one else left.

"You wrote too much. Delete the sent text. I don't want to see a polite message addressed to him, sent from my phone. You are far too civil for your own good. Nice people get killed first." Sherlock sneered under his breath, kicking her chair to the side and grabbing her by the white coat sleeve, pulling her down. "Back to important matters - We are busy saving a woman. The problems of the Government don't concern us."

He was disturbed once again, hardly 2 minutes later; This time, Molly returned. It seemed, even in a lab, he had no freedom to think! Where is this world going to?! "Any luck?" Molly's overly sweet smile seemed to go unnoticed by Sherlock, or at least that's what he wanted her to think. The computer beeped, announcing the end of the search. "Oh, yes!" Sherlock smirked in victory, looking more into the microscope. As Molly approached the trio, another door was opened, and unexpectedly, the very man, the Notorious Hacker James the IT Guy, entered the room. "Oh, sorry, I didn't..." Jim awkwardly gave them a half-smile, raising his hand as a sort of introverted greeting, making his way towards them.

"The Notorious James the IT guy joined the party! A round of applause!" Sherlock turned his head to look at the blue haired woman; His eyes narrowed as he frowned. Why was she so excited that this slob of a man was entering the room - In fact, why did she even know this guy? There was no way a coquettish lady like herself would spend time around a guy who doesn't take care of his appearance at all - Except for the overwhelming amount of product he puts into his hair, and the awfully plucked eyebrows... And what is with that hunched posture?  "Jim! Hi!" Molly grinned, urging him to come closer to her, so she could introduce him to the group. Holmes had already made his impression of this guy - He disliked him greatly. Molly? Yes, she was desperate. But Raven? No. No way. She can do far better. "Jim, this is Sherlock Holmes. This is my forensics colleague and friend, Raven... And, uh... Sorry." Molly pointed towards each of them in turn, only to forget John's name. Actually, Kat doubts Molly ever personally met John anyway. "The esteemed John Watson, the doctor of the group. Everyone needs a healer in their group." the gamer girl joked around, trying to ease him up a little. "True, not everyone can be a Necromancer these days." he pointed out, making the bluenette look away and snort in amusement. "Spot on, correct. Wonder what your class would be, Hackerman. A rogue, perhaps?" the girl jabbed at him, which made Sherlock quickly scan her, Molly and Jim from head to toe, before turning back to his research. He didn't like this one bit. Unconsciously, his foot hooked under the wheel of her chair, pulling her a little closer to his side. "So you’re Sherlock Holmes. Molly and Raven talk about you all the time - Only praise, of course." Sherlock wasn't impressed by all this buttering up. "You on one of your cases?" he walks closer to Sherlock, forcing John to step out of his way. "Jim works in I.T. upstairs. That’s how we met. Office romance." the two of them shared a look, giggling like two highschool sweethearts.

"You two are so cute! James talks so sweetly about you every time we meet up!" Katrina started playfully spinning on her chair; Sherlock couldn't help but frown - What was so special about this socially inapt simpleton? "Gay." Sherlock muttered, not taking his eyes from the microscope. What a hoax. "Sorry, what?" Molly's smile faltered just as easily, which only made Sherlock realise that he might have made things a little more awkward than he'd like. "Nothing... Um, hey." the detective smiled fakely at the IT man, before turning back to his work. "Hey." Jim almost seemed like an awkward fangirl as he knocked over one of the metal dishes, then scrambled to pick it up and put it back on the table, apologising profusely, as all people present tried to hide their second-hand embarrassment. "Well, I’d better be off. Raven, karaoke tonight, 8 o'clock?"

"Just as we planned!" she chirped cutely, showing a peace sign. "Call me when you're done with the beta-testing, please." James asked her, only to smile as she nodded in agreement. "Mind if I make a few tweaks, if I find bugs and stuff?" she lean back on her chair, looking at him with a playful expression. "Oh, yeah, of course, go ahead. It'd be nice to see someone better than me and how I can improve." he smiled softly, as she winked at him. "Not everyone can hack into the Swiss Bank and go on holidays." Sherlock's interest was piqued - This innocent little princess who couldn't even hurt a fly... She did what?! "Molly - You comin'?"

"Yeah -- Uh, go ahead, I'll come back in a minute!" Jim smiled awkwardly, nodding at the group. "It was nice to meet you." he told them all - Only John replied, after a long and uncomfortable silence.

"Have a lovely date, you two!" Kat waved him goodbye. As soon as the door closed, Molly's face dropped immediately.   "What d’you mean, gay? We’re together." Molly's voice quivered, frowning at Sherlock, not understanding his reasoning. She was already on the edge with how friendly her boyfriend and her only friend were with each other - And now, this? The man who is never wrong, her ultimate crush of all things - He claims her boyfriend is interested in men and their relationship is just a facade?! "And domestic bliss must suit you, Molly. You’ve put on three pounds since I last saw you." Sherlock pointed out, which made Kat turn her head, giving him a shocked look. "Sherlock! Don't be so rude!" she cried, like a mother scolding her child. "Two and a half." Molly tried to defend herself, which only fed into his need to always be right. "Nuh, three." the detective shot back, which made John sigh at his lack of sympathy or... Social etiquette. "He’s not gay. Why d’you have to spoil...? He’s not....!" Molly tried to defend her boyfriend, but it seemed mostly like she was trying to defend herself. "With that level of personal grooming?" Sherlock snorted in mock amusement. "Because he puts a bit of product in his hair? I put product in my hair." John seemed to be in disbelief at his reasoning. "You wash your hair. There’s a difference. No-no – tinted eyelashes; clear signs of taurine cream around the frown lines; those tired clubber’s eyes. Then there’s his underwear, visible above the waistline – Very visible; very particular brand. That, plus the extremely suggestive fact that he just left his number under this dish here... And I’d say you’d better break it off now and save yourself the pain." Sherlock reached out to take the card with James's number from under the metal dish, showing it to Molly, who stared at it, crestfallen and in tears, turning around and running from the room. "Sherlock.... That was mean!" he turned to look at the girl next to him - The disappointment in her eyes startled him; Was it not an act of caring, telling someone to be careful?    "Just saving her time. Isn’t that kinder?" Sherlock frowned at his two comrades, not understanding what he did wrong. "Kinder? No, no, Sherlock. That wasn’t kind." John rolled his eyes, clearly frustrated.

"You... You have a very... Particularly blunt honesty about you. Yes, your message was helpful, but the delivery... It was the delivery that hurt. That, and the fact that, if your claim comes true - Which, Molly knows, will definitely come true - It means that she's once again single and very much alone." the two shared a few seconds of eye contact, as if they were speaking telepathically. "Nobody likes being alone, Sherlock. Sometimes ignorance is bliss."

"I like being alone." he defended himself.

"No... You don't." he frowned, confused at her implication - What would she know anyway? "You like being alone when you want to be left alone. Otherwise, without any bit of social interaction and mental stimulation... You go crazy. You can't live without it - Without attention, without challenges, without cases - And incidentally - Without people." the look on his face was almost defiant, as if he didn't want to hear the truth coming from someone else; As if he didn't want his mystery and secrets to be discovered. "Rent isn't the only reason you were looking for a flatmate, Sherlock."

"... You would know, wouldn't you?" his tone was low, as if to provoke her back, to rebound that awful implication, a simple fact that he saw as close to a personal attack as it could get. Surprisingly, however, she nodded, a genuine response. She wasn't hiding, she wasn't changing the subject, or lying, or bouncing the conversation his way. No, she was perfectly truthful. That was a scary trait in a human - Sometimes, this honesty scared Sherlock to the core, seeing someone being so helplessly vulnerable with him, without having anything to lose; Vulnerable and genuine, without it being a weakness to exploit - It was her strength, her shield. Her smarts, intuition and wit weren't her only assets - Her personality, also, was special in this world. "Good to know." he cleared his throat, looking away from her and leaning back on his chair - Instead, he focused on John, pushing the trainers his way. "Now, John, go on. You know what I do, off you go." Sherlock gave John one of the trainers on the table, but he refused to touch it. "No. I'm not gonna stand here so you can humiliate me while I try and disseminate..." John tried to say, only for the other one to shake his head. "It's very useful to me. An outside eye, a second opinion." he tried to urge him, but John frowned. "Why don't you have Raven analyse it? Why do you always have to humiliate me?" John put his hands on his hips, glaring at Sherlock. "Will that make you feel any better? Fine!" he glared at his flatmate - The last thing he wanted to do was to look at the bluenette again, when he just turned away from her. Damn it, John. "Fine. Raven, give it a try. Doesn't matter that you know close to nothing about this case." Sherlock rolled his eyes, turning around with one the trainers, putting it in her hands.

"Uhm...? They're... Very worn out sports shoes. There's a smudged name written here, so they belonged to a child with... Remarkably big feet." she frowned a little, placing a shoe next to her foot - This child's shoe was significantly bigger than her own. "Anyway, it looks like a boy's favourite pair of shoes. They seem worn but repaired to some degree." she continued, looking at them from different angles. "Our sample matched Sussex and London... But if the kid liked these shoes so much, why would they be left behind like that? He wouldn't let them get this muddy, right?"

The detective peered his piercing blue eyes deep into her own; There was little to reproach her for. How annoying. "Very well. You missed about... Half of the information." he extended his hand towards her, so he could show off. "Yes, the owner loved these; Scrubbed them clean, whitened where they got discoloured; Changed the laces three... No, four times - Even so, there are traces of his flaky skin where his fingers  have come into contact with them so he suffered from eczema." he turned the shoe with the soles up. "The shoes are well-worn more so on the inner side, which means the owner had weak arches. British-made, 20 years old."

"How did you know?" the girl asked, seeing the man access his phone.

"They're original." he showed her the screen. "Limited edition, two blue stripes, 1989."

"I wasn't even in the country 20 years ago. I was celebrating the fall of communism." the girl chuckled lightly.

"Wait, but there's still mud on them. They look new." John's correct observation came to light.

"Someone's kept them that way." the detective stated mysteriously. "Quite a bit of mud caked on the soles... Based on the analysis, the kid wore these trainers, came to London from Sussex 20 years ago, and left them behind."

"If Moriarty gave us these shoes - Does that mean the kid died here, in London? 20 years ago?" Sherlock remained silent for a few seconds, before he's had his eureka.

"Yes, he loved these shoes, he'd never leave them filthy, or throw them away... Which means he had to. A child with big feet gets... Oh..." Sherlock's eyes widened in realisation, saying out a name that was completely foreign to both Katrina and John. "Carl Powers."

"Who is Carl Powers...?" Katrina leaned forward a bit, intrigued by his reaction, just like a child eager for the story-telling to continue. "Did you know this kid? Was he one of your cases?" At once, Sherlock picked both John and Katrina up, hurrying them outside of the hospital, to catch a cabbie back home. "It's where I began. 1989, a young kid – champion swimmer – came up from Brighton for a school sports tournament; drowned in the pool. Tragic accident. You wouldn’t remember it. Why should you? And Raven was in her country." Sherlock explained briefly. "But you remember." John pointed out the obvious. "So what was odd about it? What caught your attention?" "Yes, I was only a kid back then, I read it in the papers - I tried to tell the police something was wrong, but nobody listened." he still seemed frustrated by the case. "The boy, Carl Powers, had some kind of fit in the water, but by the time they got him out it was too late. But there was something wrong; something I couldn’t get out of my head." the detective continued, absorbed in his own thoughts. "What?" John asked, intrigued by the story of Sherlock's first case. "His shoes. They weren’t there. I made a fuss; I tried to get the police interested, but nobody seemed to think it was important. He’d left all the rest of his clothes in his locker, but there was no sign of his shoes... Until now." Sherlock smirked, happy to finally be able to solve his first ever case.

"I have a thought - Though I don't know the details of the original case so I might be wrong." Katrina found herself speculating. "You said the boy was a champion swimmer, yet he drowned. That means something happened while he was in the water, right? He couldn't move. If he had a cramp, he could still get himself up enough to hang onto the corridor divider in the swimming pool, right?" Sherlock nodded his head as an encouragement to continue. "That meant something more happened - A cramp not to his leg or arm, but to his whole body." his eyes were beginning to widen little by little. "I am sure you've got a million theories and possible answers in your head right now, and all of them could fit - So let me narrow it down for you, with my limited knowledge and coincidental guess." she continued softly. "Clostridium botulinum - The neurotoxin. A single nanogram per kilogram can kill a person. If it was on his shoes, it touched his skin, and thanks to the eczema, got inside his capillaries, then bloodstream, reached the brain - By the time he entered the pool, his neuromuscular joints had been afflicted - His body was completely paralysed so he couldn't flail around or shout for help fast enough; That, and the fact that his thorax and diaphragm couldn't spread for the lungs to get enough air to last a little longer..." the cabbie became graveyard quiet. "Sorry, maybe that was too far-fetched."

"No, that - That was brilliant, it- It actually makes a lot of sense!" John's praise made the girl's cheeks flush a little with joy.

"I love you." in a split second, Sherlock forgot all about his previous pettiness and grabbed the girl to kiss her temple. "Can't you drive any faster? We've got a case to solve!"   As soon as they arrived home, Sherlock dragged the girl to the microscope to search for the Gram positive anaerobic bacteria. What a naughty bacillus! In the meantime, Mycroft started texting John instead - And the detective sent his sidekick away to gather information from his brother; He was all alone with his lady friend now, to search for answers in peace and quiet.

Sure enough, he did just that - Found his eureka faster than ever, now that he knew what to look for - In his shoelaces! Of course nobody would be looking for Clostridium! Quickly, he posted the answer on his blog, the Science of Deduction - It was the only way to communicate his puzzle solving with the killer, and save the hostage.

Clearly, our bomber was Moriarty, without a shadow of doubt; He was as bored as Sherlock always is. Regardless - The night ended, and once morning came, Sherlock and John rushed to Lestrade to speak about the case and the rescued hostage. They received a new message - This time, unlike previously, the phone pinged 4 times instead of 5. So they had to solve 5 puzzles in total. Only 8 hours to solve the hostage. 

Involved she might have been in the whole Moriarty ordeal, Sherlock didn't think twice about involving the girl in this case - His mind was focused, this was an easy job - Moriarty must be slipping if he thought he couldn't single-handedly solve such a laughably easy case! He was on FIRE! Oh, he was giddy, SO giddy and excited! Three more puzzles - They better be fascinating, otherwise this would be a simple walk in the park for him; A joke, if anything!

The third day came by, and thus, the third case also - The hostage was a blind old woman inside her own apartment; Sherlock had twelve hours to solve this case, once again - A funny case. Moriarty loves his new plaything - He loves to watch him dance to his own tune.

Katrina, however, was doing her job - And because of that, Sherlock himself came to consult with her. His next subject of interest - Connie Prince, a middle-aged TV show host, had died two days prior, and she had been in charge of the autopsy. To think that her death would be related to a Moriarty case - Fascinating!

"Please be quick - We don't have much time to stall. Tell me you got something." Sherlock started investigating the dead body with his own eyes, listening to the girl's autopsy report. "She died two days ago - Some guy said she cut her hand on a rusty nail --"

"Yes, so, if Tetanus bacteria enters the bloodstream, goodnight Vienna." Sherlock concluded for himself. "How long would the bacteria have been incubating inside her?"

"8 - 10 days." John found himself answering before anyone else - He was intrigued just like the others.

"I don't know if it helps, but she's got some puncture points on her forehead - I'm assuming Botox or some kind of hyaluronic acid; There's scratch marks on her arm, definitely indicative of cat claw marks." she pointed towards those aspects. "Also... I didn't find any Tetanus symptoms on her, nor did I see anything at the microscope around that area - In fact, that hand wound is clean - I think it was done post-mortem, to confuse you." Katrina stalled for a few seconds. "But if you're sure Tetanus killed her, it needed another entry point, at least a week prior." she stopped for a few seconds, looking at the body. "I think either the Botox shots or the cat's claws. Those were the only obvious entry points." though it seemed Sherlock's mind gears  were working intensely, he didn't speak a single word on the case.

"I think I've got it." the man nodded his head - Yes. Botox. He's got more important things to check on. "Thanks for the help. Job well done. Gotta go--"

"Hey!" the girl cried out after him as soon as he tried to rush out. "Are you not going to tell me anything at all? Why are you leaving me out of all these cases?" the man looked down at her - She looked upset and a sparkle of betrayal mixed with disappointment gleamed her gorgeous eyes. "Do you not trust me anymore? Or am I not useful to you? What's going on -- Sherlock, this concerns me well enough, I--"

"Stay low and don't leave the house more often than it's necessary - Not that it would save you from him - But at least a faux sense of security, I suppose." he sounded like a robot, rather than a human; Even the inflexions in his voice disappeared. "He is playing this game with me - Not with you. For now, at least. Fan of ours or not, he's getting bored faster than I am - It's only a matter of time before he's schemed up a new game for you." it was then that she realised, in spite of his cold voice and harsh tonality, Sherlock Holmes was worried about her.

"... Alright, Sherlock. If you need me, I'm just a ring away." John looked at the defeated woman - She still smiled, and her voice was mellow and sweet; He couldn't understand why Sherlock was dismissing her so quickly - She'd been such brilliant help!

"Sherlock --" John asked, trying to keep up with the detective's long strides. "Raven's right - Why are you excluding her from all this?"

"Moriarty's thrown her in front of death twice now - Let's not make it a third. Until we've ended this bomberman game, I'd rather not have to worry about playing hero." harsh, very harsh, but still, the intentions were there.

"Why don't you have your brother's people keep surveillance on her? You said he's the British Government - Surely, he could keep her safe... Right?" based on the troubled look on the detective's face, the medic realised he had already thought of that. "...Right?!" the answer was uncertain - And Sherlock would rather not risk it. Rivalry aside - Even Mycroft wasn't safe from Moriarty and his influence.

That evening, Katrine met up with James again, at the internet cafe nearby; She brought over the USB stick so they could test out the game; She told him all about the bugs and what she tweaked around - He seemed thrilled of it all; And then, he showed Sherlock's blog, and the three peculiar posts. "I've heard all about the bombings - But I can't figure out; Sherlock's posts are... I can't understand them - And John hadn't updated his own either. I was hoping... Maybe... You'd fill me up on this?"

"Oh, yes, sure!" the girl smiled chipper - At least that way to be involved. "I don't know the whole thing very well - Sherlock hardly let's me into the cases. I think he's afraid I'll become a collateral victim of out bomber." she sighed, yet her smile didn't disappear.

"That dangerous?" he gasped. "Well - It's a bombing, I guess that's nothing to joke about. It's quite scary -- And then those twelve people dead in the gas leak... I heard people talking - They said it was the bomber." he continued lightly. "Do you think... Sherlock failed the last game?"

Katrina frowned, looking at the blog - The latest post explained the killing toxin was, once again, Clostridium botulinum. "No. He got it right. And he got it just in time." she muttered to herself. "The hostage... I heard it was an old, blind woman. She must have broke Moriarty's rules. Since they only communicate by phoning on that phone... Maybe she said something." she stroked her chin, her eyes fixated on the monitor. "Why would Moriarty have the same killing method twice... Was it to confuse the investigation...? How silly." she hummed to herself. 

"Sorry?" realised how confused she was making him, she shook her head and smiled at him.

"Forgive me, I got caught up in my thoughts!" she became chipper again. "The first case about Sherlock's first case, 20 years ago. There was a swimming champion kid who drowned, and our only clue was the pair of shoes left behind. We found Clostridium botulinum on the shoelaces. It's a powerful neurotoxin, it got into his bloodstream through his eczema, and by the time he was in the pool, his muscles paralysed." Jim was looking at her in complete awe. "Second one... I know nothing about it. Sherlock didn't involve me at all in that one. As for the third one... That TV show host got regular botox injections, I suppose done at home by this guy, whoever he was - And he must have upped the dose, and she died or something."

"He must really be afraid for your safety, if he's keeping you in the dark so much." he turned his head to look at her. "Reckon he's investigating another one now?" 

Katrina sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "I think so, yes. The phone peeped 5 times during the first case, 4 times next, and then 3 times. I'd wager there's two more puzzles left - One he's working on right now, and the other... Well, what do I know. I suppose I'll never know."

 "Well - Maybe it's for the best." the girl's seraphic visage featured a most confused expression. "For you, I mean - As long as you're alive, you can continue hunting cases, right? You said it yourself - You've had enough near-death experiences. Maybe let the hero act for those who don't fear death?"

"... Not like I have much to live for anyway." the girl found herself muttering quite miserably, before flipping the subject back to the game.

Two days passed, and Katrina was preparing for a pool party. James invited her, saying some work colleagues invited him and Molly over. Might as well indulge a little - She loved swimming, yet she hadn't done it in quite a while. The location was a little off - Not quite the resort she expected - But perhaps they got free access to this inside pool, so why not profit off of it?

Hair done nicely, make up on fleek, and a lovely pink summer dress on, Katrina slowly entered the building, searching for the pool - However, the discovery froze the blood in her veins once she opened the doors, and Jim the IT guy was waiting for her most gallantly - Like a super villain, wearing an expensive suit - And threatening the hero and his sidekick. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were there.

"H-Hello..." her voice was meek, despite how much she tried to keep herself in check; Her smile was trembling a little as she patted her dress and carefully stepped towards them. "You look good in a suit - But, uh... Not an appropriate outfit for a pool party, is it?"

"Might have missed the memo - Sorry!" the man giggled dryly. "Just kidding. We were waiting for you - And what better flower to pluck from the garden, then the gardener's favourite blue beauty? Little Disney Princess with the blue hair - Couldn't possibly find a better weakness for our hero, could we? To think he'd fall for you so quickly - Ha! Hilarious!" the villain pranced forwards, grabbing the girl's arm roughly, pulling her towards the center - In front of the two men; He embraced her tightly from behind.

"What the hell are you doing here -- Didn't I tell you to stay the hell at home?!" unexpectedly, Sherlock yelled at her - No one, not even himself, would have expected such a harsh reaction out of him, addressing her. "Who the hell goes to a school pool at midnight, for goodness' sake - Are you out of your mind?!" his loud, echoing voice made the girl's body jump in fear - Right, she was very sensitive to noises. Slipped his mind. "Raven - That... That is Moriarty." he tried again, minding his voice this time.

"W-Well, I, uh-- I... I fixed your game, James. And... I finished it. I... I thought you'd be happy to hear that." Sherlock could see the soft tremble of her body as she dug her hand in her purse, pulling out a USB stick. "72 GB stick - You can keep it. Pretty expensive."

"Right...! How lovely of you! Truly, a work of wonder!" he laughed, snatching away the stick from her hand and putting it in his pants pocket. "Sherlock, Sherlock, Sherlock." Moriarty grinned, pressing his cheek against her own; One hand was gripping her jaw, while the other was tightly around her wrist - He looked like a puppeteer holding a pretty marionette doll. "You don't get it, do you? Dear Miss Raven - Who, in fact, is Dear Miss Kitty-Kat, in case you weren't aware - You might be smart, Sherlock, but you'll never match her intuition!" Moriarty could see the way his jaw muscles twitched, the more the grip on the girl tightened, making her whimper in pain. "She knew who I was the moment she met me!" his laugh in her ear made her twitch again.

"Did you have your fun, James?" her soft voice stood out. "Did you enjoy tormenting me? Humiliating me? Playing me - Knowingly?" she continued onwards. "I let you exploit my loneliness, my weakness." Sherlock's speculation was unfortunately true - Her only weakness was, after all, her loneliness. "I won't apologise for it - I had fun with you. I enjoyed myself. I didn't care whether you were faking it or not - You never seemed to me like the 'Jim from IT' that you showed to Molly... You always seemed like 'James' to me. Witty, clever, interesting, passionate, and a bit of a geek. Very charming." she went on, unapologetic, yet somewhat resigned to her fate. "So tell me - I believe I'm entitled to know by now - What is it that you want with me?"

Moriarty wolf-whistled, continuing with a dramatical cackle. "I had so much fun hearing you tell me all about those cases - Truly, it was fascinating - And so madly in love!" he hummed, swaying a little back and forth, as if to dance. "I just wanted to play match-maker, you see? Just like Barbie and Ken - And it worked! Am I not just the Cupid himself?" he grinned wickedly, looking straight into Sherlock's blue eyes. "No matter how much I liked to play with you, Barbie - You would always gravitate towards Ken - And the reverse was true also! Oh, the face Sherlock made when he heard you and I are close friends - That we see each other every morning!" the hand from her jaw went into her hair, twirling around a strand of her beautiful blue hair... Mimicking what she'd do unconsciously when she was speaking of the very detective. "Do you know she always does this cutesy thing when she's talking about you? A woman in love is soooo radiant, isn't she?" she pulled on that very strand of hair. "If I'd known the two of you would fall over each other like that, I'd have just courted you instead of poor, desperate Molly Hooper. Not that it would have worked, I know that much - But it would have been absolutely hilarious!" 

Sherlock couldn't stand seeing Moriarty torment Katrina like that - He just couldn't. It took so much power to keep his self-restraint up and not slip. First, John had a bomb vest, and now this. Through her whimpering and trembling, the fear and anxiety, she still continued speaking in the same serene voice, albeit a little shaky. "You still didn't answer me. What is your motive?" "Why does everything need to have a reason?" he taunted her, moving around her joints, only for her to snatch her arm back from his grasp and stumble backwards a few feet - The way she was holding herself defensive, and that look on her face resembling a terrified, wounded cat - This wasn't her first time being roughed up like that. "EVERYTHING has a reason! Why are Days and Nights alternative, and there's never two days or two nights consecutively? The rotation of the Earth! Why do streams flow the way they do? Because gravity makes them go downhill. Why do people always wake up, and then feel the need to go back to sleep, in the same 24 hour interval? Because of the circadian rhythm! Why does the heart pump? Because of the sino-atrial node! There is ALWAYS a reason for everything!" the girl refuted without backing down, which seemed to make him grin.

"Everything has a reason, yes, just like your reactions - You don't like being touched, do you? Men scare you. Loud, burly, gruff and terrifying. One hand can engulf your neck and snap it like a dove. You're so small and frail, a delicate little flower, there is no way you could fight off a man, am I right~?" he knew her fears, her past - And he knew just how to mock her.

"Since you simply confirmed what I said - Will you tell me now why you are messing with me?" with some self-control, she forced herself to straighten her spine, and try to hide how terrified she was - At least on a surface level. "Because I was BORED!" the last word was roared, and it resounded painfully through the pool; Katrina slapped her hands over her ears and half-crouched in pain. Moriarty continued in his normal, soothing voice. "Life is boring without competition or some puppets to fool around with! You know better, what is Batman without the Joker, and vice-versa? And how is being bored a relevant, rational reason?" he asked, throwing his hands into the air.

"Humans are emotional beings, thus, irrational at best, unpredictable at worst. You can come up with statistics and probabilities to figure out, yet, but you can never know for sure -- Even you are not always solely driven by ration, are you? -- Not to mention, I don't know any comics in which the Joker kills Batman; In fact, it is Batman's sidekick who ends up killing Joker. So how will killing any of us benefit you - You'll just get bored all over again, and we both know there is no one out there would could play into your nefarious fascinations like Sherlock could... Isn't that right... The Notorious James the Hackerman." the exchange between those two was putting Sherlock on edge - They were far too friendly with each other, in the worst ways - They knew too much about each other, understood too well. This was only bound to end up horribly wrong.

"And what would you have me do, exactly?" he raised his eyebrow, provoking.  "Let them go, that's what I would have you do! Sherlock AND John! Both of them. Let them live." came her bold answer, hissed through gritted teeth. "Raven, don't-" Sherlock tried to speak, only to get shushed by both herself and James. For once, he would be a liability, not aid. "But that would be BORING! I can't have that, can I? Instead, I can mess around with you, and in turn, that messes with Sherlock! I've already used John as bait, put bombs on him, and boy, that was FUN! But you? Oh ho ho ho, you could be top-star entertaining for me!" he grinned, stepping forward and pulling her back towards him, his grip on her arms painfully tight, just like an abusive ex-boyfriend trying to control you.

"Let go of me, James! You know I hate being touched - It's not gentlemanly!" she tried to wiggle away from his grasp.

"Oh, how quaint, hiding your fears and trauma behind the facade of the stereotype of a gallant and chivalrous British gentleman!" his grinned was poisonous, and his warm doe eyes were dark like an abysmal void, an infinite purgatory. "Sherlock Holmes, the charming hero saving the Damsel in Distress - You love those kind of romantic stories, don't you? It's been your fairytale dream since you were a little girl - To live a mundane life, fall in love, and whatever it is that little girls do. I made the scenario perfectly, didn't I - Little Magnolia Flower." maybe it was the nerves, or her fear, or maybe even the simple fact that she was touched and the grip was hurting her; The stress, the situation, the betrayal... Everything made her snap.

"I SAID - DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!" 

Time stopped for the four players - The loud echo of a strike was followed by the red handprint displayed on Jim Moriarty's left cheek, along with the murderous look on his face - But that was not all, for a fire was discharged, and suddenly, Katrina's gorgeous pink dress was actively being dyed a deep, crimson red.  She couldn't hear her two friends calling out her name, the shock was overwhelming. The strength of the bullet made her stumble backwards, and her wide, wet eyes weren't kind or joyful anymore - They were terrified and in agony, staring into his black eyes. Empty she thought - At first, at least... In spite of her petrified state of mind, and excruciating pain, she could spot one thing in that nothingness - Shock. He didn't plan for this. He didn't want this. He didn't want her dead.

"J-James... Wh-... Why...?" she coughed up violently, blood smearing down her chin, splurting everywhere; Her lady-like facade was destroyed " I will skin alive the idiot who sniped without my approval!" Moriarty voice mimicked a feral growl as he lunged forward, catching her in his arms, keeping her up like a rag doll;  "What did you do to her, you, monster?!" John shouted at the psychopath, who only chuckled, looking down and feeling the woman's strength, as he was gripping into his clothes to stand up, get more and more lax. "Me? Nothing! You saw very well, I didn't do anything to her!. But oh, the look of horror on your faces... It was SO worth it! If only I had known that's all that it took to shake the great Sherlock Holmes, I'd-" he kept on rambling, but the girl's weak voice interrupted him. "Let them go." albeit it was whispery and lacking strength, it had a certain sternness to it - She repeated it, staring into his eyes, fixed, almost like a broken record, which seemed to annoy him a great deal, as he turned twirled her around, so gracefully, as if they were dancing, until the tips of her heeled shoes reached the edge of the pool; She was halfway falling into the pool, were it not for him holding her up, hovering over the clear water. "What do you REALLY want? You love Sherlock, you'd rather have him live, don't you? You couldn't care less if John lives or dies, he isn't that important to you. You saw very well how the person most important to you started ghosting you. Lea, was it? You don't believe in the kindness of people anymore, so don't be hypocritical!" he smirked as he started fiddling with his phone. "Your sweet act is failing, Kitty-Kat. Your kindness is fake." "...I win." she chuckled mirthfully, despite the burning pain that was electrifying through her whole body. "...You... What?" Moriarty frowned, confusion painted on his face.

"I win. I made you worry. You care about me. You just called an ambulance, to make sure I live. You could have harmed, tortured, killed or you could have even used Molly as bait, but you didn't. Likewise, you could have done the same to me, but guess what? You didn't! In that psychopathic mind of yours, you actually enjoyed my presence. It may or may not have been kinda fun, in your own... Twisted... Nefarious logic." she laughed serenely, almost like a lunatic. "Admit it, James, you don't want me dead. You could have, but you didn't, so therefore, you wo-... AHHH!" she must have really angered Moriarty by calling him out, for he started pressing on her stomach, where her wound was; Her legs were giving up, as tears of agony were streaming down her face. Still, she forced a grin on her face. "No. You didn't win. You will never win, not the way you are now. Good girls NEVER win. You think you really read me? You think you know me? How ridiculously arrogant of you! You don't know nearly as much as you think you do." he hissed through his teeth, his grip on her making his knuckles go white. "I'll have to admit, it was pretty fun while it lasted. Any last words?" he asked, smiling mockingly. "Let. THEM. Live." she grasped his tie, and with her last powers, she dragged herself up close to his eyes level, which seemed to piss him off. "Playing off the martyr for these two won't impress me, Kitty-Kat. You were just a declawed cat who would have benefitted from some rabies. Alas, you became a scarf for the wicked." he smirked down at her, any hint of emotion vanishing from his eyes. "I truly hope you know how to swim, otherwise... Yellow submarine, Yellow submarine." he finished in a singing voice, and knowing this was it, she merely snorted in amusement, smirking weakly. "Sherlock does." and with that, a look of rage flashed his face as he pushed her into the pool.

Her eyes were stinging from the chlorine, her vision blurry and the lights were quickly dimming; She was engulfed in velvety ribbons of scarlet, swirling around her body; She was falling down, to the bottom of the pool, with only her mermaid blue hair embracing her. No oxygen could reach her brain, and her nerves were screeching in agony - Not even the cold of the water could properly numb away her torture.

Her last thoughts were on Sherlock playing the hero and saving her, John giving her first aid, and the ambulance arriving just in time to stabilise her condition before getting her to the hospital for surgery - But she couldn't hope. She wasn't afraid, nor was she panicking; She was growing numb, as if she was falling asleep. Darkness was taking over her vision and confusion was afflicting her consciousness. This was the beautiful death she wished for, just like Ophelia drowning in the Thames, her face gorgeous, her outfit beautiful, a smile on her face, and her tragic fate.

Perhaps Sherlock was right - The more beautiful a lady, the more tragic her life.

Before she passed out, she saw a blurry figure, and felt two strong arms embracing her; Her body didn't scream, as it did with Moriarty - She knew who this was - The one man who didn't frighten her. The one man whose embrace felt like the safest haven. The one man who valued her entirely for who she was.

Sherlock Holmes saved his Damsel in Distress from the clutches of death three times, and each time, he delivered her to safety by holding her in his arms.

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[onwriting-hrarby]

some updates

hello everyone! i hope you're fine and enjoying the last month of spring. as for us, this may-june reminds me of the pandemic, in which it rained until mid-june. it's nice, though, since we're in a very dry season with water restrictions. i had missed rain, somehow.

twitter/fandom

some of you have noticed that i'm not on twitter anymore. i tried it again, but i don't think it was worth it. although i'm convinced my harasser(s) is subscribed to me on ao3 and checks my tumblr regularly (for i hadn't announced "for you" on twitter when i received hate comments) twitter was, again, giving me anxiety. also, when i decided not to be on fandom, i had begun finding twitter boring, because i didn't want to interact there a lot. it's strange to craft a tl anew, again, and overall, i reiterate, i think i'm happier just writing my own headcanons with no influence of fandom. i should have told 2021 hera this, as she was convinced that being in twitter was "the move" to do.

anyways, i'm fine. i love experiencing fandom as a little guilty pleasure, something more private and fun. it makes me less afraid, too: i had been wanting to write "for you" since i first began liking aot, but i was always afraid of what the fandom would say. such a lot of time lost, and now i'm writing it knowing that the aot haze is somehow passing by.

liquid confidence

i am feeling a little bit discouraged with this story. i didn't like some of the comments i received, and it made me doubt whereas i was doing a good job. somehow, since i was very stressed and didn't have time to write, all the scenes and dialogue and sentences i had in my head dissipated before i could even write them. on monday, i decided to come back at it again, but as for now, i'm slowly, slowly making progress (that means, i haven't written since monday). not being in twitter/having lots of fandom experiences doesn't make me rush, either. i'm not particularly worried that it's been a month since i updated. i want to do a good job, and i'm just not in the mood, right now. maybe i need to watch a romantic movie, or listen to taylor swift non-stop.

i thank all of you who had commented and liked the story (i will always be surprised, though, at the ratio kudos-hits) and i hope i can upload soon.

for you

damn, this was a bittersweet feeling. the most comments i received were from anon haters (and they kept on pushing that the fic was a failure). i'm not writing rivamika for numbers, so i don't really care, and i also think this fandom is very committed to their ship in ways that i'm not committed to ships anymore, so i trust that when people read the first chapter (which is fully levi/mikasa) they will like the story more. i have also resigned myself to receive anon hate whatever i do, so i don't particularly care about it anymore: that's why i have opened the comments to guests, too (always moderated). i'm sorry that people might see the hate comments, but i have to accept them in order to report them to ao3 for abuse.

i think i found two of the harassers in twitter, though. i'm not sure. they can rot in hell, and i know they will follow and comment everything i do. if that's the way they want to pass on time... they are sad people.

that being said, for you is progressing slowly, too. i'm sorry, because i really like writing it.

own writing

i've owned that if i want to be a published author i need to get rid of insecurity. i've slowly been doing this since the year started ("not giving a fuck"), yet sometimes the self-pressure takes over me.

i am turning "instead they said" in an original story, so this is taking quite a lot of time. i am also writing my new novel. i also revised the other novel i had in my drawer, and i think i want it to send it somewhere.

i hope we can read each other soon.

hera signing off.

[thatalmostopsorceress]

[Review] I Hope This Doesn't Find You by Ann Liang [240308]

I just finished binging I Hope This Doesn't Find You by Ann Liang in a day. It was absolutely amazing. I loved every second of it.

The way the author captures every emotion Sadie feels is so captivating, so realistic, so... perfect. I found myself tensing up with when she was worried; I found myself staring intently at the screen of my tablet, my brows furrowed; I found myself smiling along with her.

It was so satisfying reading this novel: the misunderstanding trope wasn't dragged out or annoying, every scene played in my mind exactly like a movie would, and the imagery used was nothing short of spectacular, flowing with the scenes and written in the perfect tone.

The character development was absolutely lovely – something very refreshing and satisfying – they were the opposite of cardboard-plank characters, they all had a purpose to serve and they acted as real humans did, they weren't too childish, too mature, too plain or too flashy.

As I kept reading, I found myself falling in love with the characters more and more – the vanity of Julius, the relatable-ness of Sadie, everything about Abigail... One thing I found especially delightful was how, even though Julius and Sadie were enemies, they were quite the same. [Spoiler Starts] They both loathe the thought of someone pitying them, they both try so hard to be so perfect, they both are equally as obsessed with each other, they make each other feel alive – they just live their lives in different ways. [Spoiler Ends]

Being of Chinese descent, I Hope This Doesn't Find You was even more fun due to the 汉语拼音 embedded within the text – I could hear every word spoken out so smoothly, it was truly an enjoyable experience that evoked immense joy within my heart.

Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed reading this novel! 10/10! I feel the constant need to gush about it.

Some of my favorite annotations that I made reading it (I'll add my fav quotes another day):

Chapter 1: slay Julius | young and rich, tall and han- | ah girl u ok ah

Chapter 2: girlie what | um girl you're a bit tad bit teeny bit uh obsessed | sus

Chapter 3: I love this guy he's so silly | RIP Sadie, rest in peace our soldier | #relatable I have hot hands

Chapter 7: #slay | HSHAHAHA

Chapter 8: he can scrub !

Chapter 9: oh no! hee hee

Chapter 10: i like how we finally have a normal ml w/o tragic backstory

Chapter 11: liar you're obsessed too <3 | he's so silly how jelly | CS student aye #relatable | we like em cats

Chapter 12: ew

Chapter 13: yoi

Chapter 14: YOI!

Chapter 16: jelly season 2. | haHA | I love this woman :)

Chapter 17: I LOVE ABIGAIL T-T!!!! | ♡ chill gal

Chapter 18: aw not salty? | yeah. salty. | GIRL WAKE UP. U. P. UP | oh my god can't you SEE | oh Abigail how I love you lol

Chapter 19: awie | slay Rosie | SHE'S REFORMED!!! | Julius is just like Sadie aeaeaergh

Chapter 20: OH MY GOD IT'S HAPPENING YALL!!!!!!! | hee hee

Chapter 21: SLAY MAX!!!!!! | ♡ character development | !!!!AEAEAE | bro prolly took 9 min & 40s crying and squealing & blushing | ♡[scribble]♡♡♡♡♡ | Stan julius for clear skin ♡

One question kept popping through my mind as I read this novel.... Where is my Julius Gong? I'm a top student (sadly, I'm not any kind of athlete or leader, though I do work out). I get good grades. Relatively. So, uh, God, where can I order a Julius Gong? dfjkdshjfksdf (I'm an agnostic, by the way)

[clairelsonao3]

Happy STS!

I haven't gotten a chance to read what you've written so far, but I'm curious as to your process. What was the source of inspiration for your current WIP? Did you start with characters who wouldn't stop talking in your head? Flashes of moments? Images inspired by music? What do you fall back on when you need to be re-inspired?

Happy STS and thanks for the ask!

No worries, my ongoing WIP on Ao3 is over 100K posted words, so I by no means expect you to. 😂

Good Slaves Never Break the Rules is the long-time-coming perfect storm of three main influences.

First, I started writing it almost eight years ago to entertain myself on a transatlantic sea voyage (that's worth another whole post altogether), and some of the characters and early situations (I won't say specifically which ones!) were inspired by the unusual dynamics that pop up when strangers from vastly different origins and roles onboard are pressed together in a small space with no choice but to work and spend time together (very soon, my imagination wildly diverged from what actually happened however 😂).

Second, for a long time, I've been an avid reader of pretty much any and all slavefic (there's a lot on Ao3, both fanfic and original) and much of it is good. I always especially liked the alternate universe ones that had slavery transposed to a modern setting. But for all of that time, I could never find THE story I was looking for, the one that uses many of the common whumpy slavefic tropes (although this was long before I was in the whump community, that was just a happy accident) but is also a preferably M/F romance, using a very different type of male MC who, despite being a slave and the target of pretty much constant abuse of all kinds, has much more in common with conventional romance heroes than the perpetual helpless victims that slaves tend to be in fiction. And the female MC, rather than being some powerful dominatrix type who can do whatever she wants, is an ordinary girl who is also oppressed in a way by the society she lives in, is blind to its wrongs, and has to have her eyes opened to be brave enough to stand up for what's right. And though power dynamics are always at the forefront, the MCs come to see each other as equals. So this was also one of those "I guess I'll write it myself" moments.

Third (and I don't think I've ever had a chance to discuss this on this blog before, so thank you!), having studied the classics, for many years I've been enamored with the ancient Roman comedies of Plautus and Terence, who tended to use slaves as main characters -- and I do mean main characters. They're active, clever, funny, charming, often manipulative (but always for the right reasons), perpetually involved in zany plans and schemes, and they're anything but victims. I'd written a few things inspired by these plays previously (including a quasi-historical short story and my very first novel, also historical and of a writing quality typical for an 18-year-old, many years ago), but now that my writing skills are far more advanced, I thought it was time to try again, using a modern alt-history setting this time. Plus the plays themselves are just really fucking funny, and my story incorporates a lot of humor (and a lot of really dark stuff, too, but that's usually how it works with me).

As for getting re-inspired? I also had to do that quite recently after writing and posting a monster chapter and needing a break. What helped was rereading some of those earlier scenes that I was really excited about, and doing some tag games on Tumblr (including the Q&A I tagged you in) that allowed me to just have fun writing in my characters' voices and kind of re-re-discover them.

Thanks for a great ask!

[carica-ficus]

Day 30

Date: 30/11/2023 Final word count: 50,088

Even though I have managed to complete this years NaNoWriMo with a day to spare, I've decided to write this small post at the very end to commemorate this huge achievement.

If somebody told me at the beginning of November that I would be able to write out 50k words for a story I had only been mulling over for a few months, that has just been a simple idea with one minor scene in mind, I wouldn't have believed them. I had little to no worldbuilding, little to no plot, and little to no characters, but I still managed to create something this extensive in such a short period.

Granted, this means I'll have a lot of work to do in order to prepare a working novel, but as far as a first draft goes, I'm relatively happy! There's no where else to go, but up.

It's also been helpful to remember the words from Bridget Collins at the end of "The Betrayals" where she mentions she wrote 60k words before scrapping it and starting all over. So, if my favorite author managed to write a whole novel and do it all over in order to better it, so can I!

There's quite a few important creative decisions in front of me, the biggest one probably revolving around choosing the language for the story. I love writing in Croatian and this is a very Croatian/Balkan/Slavic story, so I want it to truly represent my country, but the simple truth is that English is more accessible, and seeing as one of my writer friends just got a deal to have his novel in English translated to Checz, it might just be worth it...

I might formally start rewriting after New Years, but we'll see. I'll be working on another really exciting writing project at the beginning of the year which will be my priority.

So yeah... Successful NaNo, all in all! I'm happy and excited, but also a little worried about other life stuff. I'm really hoping that 2024 turns out to be as good as 2023, if not even better. There's a lot of work ahead of me, but I'm ready to rise up to it.

If you've participated in NaNoWriMo this year, regardless of whether you won or not, I hope you had fun, I hope you learned something and I hope you're proud of yourself! And I hope your future writing endeavors are successful, and that you keep enjoying the creative process of it all! <3