#and I also decided to finally get another book I've been thinking about for a while even though it was ''new'' priced

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

my mom owed me like $20 so I just asked her if she'd buy me this nice lounge bra I'd been eyeing so she did and GIRLS. THIS IS SO COMFY

[halfwayhearted]

Will You Cry? — Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Summary: Ever since JJ’s confession, it feels like your relationship with Spencer is crumbling to pieces right before your eyes. You’ve had enough.

Word Count: 920+

Disclaimer/s — ANGST (hiphip!), no fluff/comfort ending, no use of Y/N, I think that’s it! 🎀

A/N: Soooooo, haha… Lmk.

‘I’ve always loved you’.

Those were Jennifer Jareau's exact words to your boyfriend of two years. You weren't angry; it was a spur-of-the-moment decision. She had to give the UnSub what he wanted, to be impressed. And she did exactly that.

You weren’t mad at her at all. Nor him.

Well, you weren't mad at him then. Now, it was a whole different story.

The pieces of your relationship were shattering, bit by bit, right in front of you. The worst part was, you felt completely and utterly helpless. You tried, and you tried, and you tried. But, he just kept on acting the same way.

Distant.

Once it hit exactly two months, you realized you faced one thought and one thought only.

If you decide to let go, how will he feel?

Will he reassure you, claiming it's just a… a rough patch, finally realizing just how deeply his lack of understanding and communication has quite literally affected you? Or, will he keep doing what he's been doing, shrugging and brushing you off like you're nothing but a stranger he happens to pass by almost every single day?

You'd find out one way or another.

Oh. You’ll actually find out right now! How fun.

As soon as you hear the front door unlock and creak open, you rise to your feet, casting a wary glance towards him. You nervously wipe your sweaty palms on your pants.

He had spent yet another few hours at the BAU, even though he didn't have to. That was also one of the reasons you so badly needed to talk to him. He never stayed this late before, but ever since everything went down, he started to. Leaving you to drive home alone, wondering if this was the slow, painful end of something special.

“Hey,” you begin, “You’re home late. Again.”

He merely hummed, a distant sound, as he took off his leather messenger bag, hung it on the hook with a weary sigh, and slipped off his shoes.

How could you even bring this up? Just—you didn’t know, take a deep breath and go for it? “Do you think we could maybe… talk?”

Slowly, Spencer flicked his gaze to meet yours. He mutters your name under his breath before replying, “I’m tired. Can this wait ‘til tomorrow?”

“No,” you blurted, internally face-palming. “It won’t take long, I don’t think.”

Inhaling sharply, your boyfriend nods and begins to take off his tie, his eyes never leaving you as you figure out how to start.

“About JJ’s confession,” you begin, mentally cursing yourself when you see him stiffen almost immediately. It’s already out. So, just stick with it. “Did it mean something to you?”

Silence. Deafening silence. The only sound is the subtle hum of the air conditioning. You vividly remember you and Spencer on the couch, his head on your lap as he read a book you both wanted to read together. He’d pause whenever the air conditioning kicked on, making you let out a small huff of laughter. It feels like it was just yesterday. But, in reality, it was four months ago.

You felt your patience thinning, “Spencer—”

“What do you want me to say?” He quips, lifting his arms in frustration. His words cut through the air, earning a bitter scoff in return.

You kept your composure. “Answer the question.”

“Why does it matter?”

Why does it matter? You could’ve burst out laughing right then and there, but you held it in.

“It matters because I need to know if everything I've been doing these past two months has been for nothing!” You snapped, your eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I tried to make this work, it’s like you’ve given up on us or something.”

All you get in return is silence, so you continue. “You don’t talk to me as much as you used to. Not about your day, what you’ve read, how you’ve been—nothing! It’s always ‘I’m tired, talk later,’ or you vanish into your office for hours and hours on end. We don’t even do the things we used to. Haven’t you realized? I—I don’t even know what to say to you anymore, Spencer. No weekly dates, no quality time spent. I didn’t mind because as long as you were here, I was fine. But now? Now, I’m not so sure. I’ve tried to get at least a little communication from you, but you’ve given me nothing. I’m tired, okay? So, please, talk to me.”

…

He blinks. Once, twice, three times. Nothing.

Of course.

A humorless laugh bubbles up and escapes your lips. The tears you fought so hard to hold back now stream uncontrollably down your cheeks. You brush past him and reach for your sweater. Just then, you feel the desperate brush of his fingers against your elbow, but you pull back and slip the fabric on with a trembling resolve.

You hear him say your name. You don’t answer as you grab your bag. He says it again, this time much louder. Still, you don't respond as you grab your keys. Once you stand in front of the door, you turn to face him. “If you can’t come to terms with your feelings just yet, I understand. But I’m done putting myself through that—the waiting. I won’t put up with that anymore. Not right now.”

He says nothing.

Spencer Reid is silent.

You catch the softening in his expression, but you turn away sharply, refusing to let yourself crumble under the weight of his gaze.

“Goodbye, Spencer.” And with that, you leave.

You were done.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @pedrilcvr ! ౨ৎ

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How plausible sentence generators are changing the bullshit wars

This Friday (September 8) at 10hPT/17hUK, I'm livestreaming "How To Dismantle the Internet" with Intelligence Squared.

On September 12 at 7pm, I'll be at Toronto's Another Story Bookshop with my new book The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation.

In my latest Locus Magazine column, "Plausible Sentence Generators," I describe how I unwittingly came to use – and even be impressed by – an AI chatbot – and what this means for a specialized, highly salient form of writing, namely, "bullshit":

https://locusmag.com/2023/09/commentary-by-cory-doctorow-plausible-sentence-generators/

Here's what happened: I got stranded at JFK due to heavy weather and an air-traffic control tower fire that locked down every westbound flight on the east coast. The American Airlines agent told me to try going standby the next morning, and advised that if I booked a hotel and saved my taxi receipts, I would get reimbursed when I got home to LA.

But when I got home, the airline's reps told me they would absolutely not reimburse me, that this was their policy, and they didn't care that their representative had promised they'd make me whole. This was so frustrating that I decided to take the airline to small claims court: I'm no lawyer, but I know that a contract takes place when an offer is made and accepted, and so I had a contract, and AA was violating it, and stiffing me for over $400.

The problem was that I didn't know anything about filing a small claim. I've been ripped off by lots of large American businesses, but none had pissed me off enough to sue – until American broke its contract with me.

So I googled it. I found a website that gave step-by-step instructions, starting with sending a "final demand" letter to the airline's business office. They offered to help me write the letter, and so I clicked and I typed and I wrote a pretty stern legal letter.

Now, I'm not a lawyer, but I have worked for a campaigning law-firm for over 20 years, and I've spent the same amount of time writing about the sins of the rich and powerful. I've seen a lot of threats, both those received by our clients and sent to me.

I've been threatened by everyone from Gwyneth Paltrow to Ralph Lauren to the Sacklers. I've been threatened by lawyers representing the billionaire who owned NSOG roup, the notoroious cyber arms-dealer. I even got a series of vicious, baseless threats from lawyers representing LAX's private terminal.

So I know a thing or two about writing a legal threat! I gave it a good effort and then submitted the form, and got a message asking me to wait for a minute or two. A couple minutes later, the form returned a new version of my letter, expanded and augmented. Now, my letter was a little scary – but this version was bowel-looseningly terrifying.

I had unwittingly used a chatbot. The website had fed my letter to a Large Language Model, likely ChatGPT, with a prompt like, "Make this into an aggressive, bullying legal threat." The chatbot obliged.

I don't think much of LLMs. After you get past the initial party trick of getting something like, "instructions for removing a grilled-cheese sandwich from a VCR in the style of the King James Bible," the novelty wears thin:

https://www.emergentmind.com/posts/write-a-biblical-verse-in-the-style-of-the-king-james

Yes, science fiction magazines are inundated with LLM-written short stories, but the problem there isn't merely the overwhelming quantity of machine-generated stories – it's also that they suck. They're bad stories:

https://www.npr.org/2023/02/24/1159286436/ai-chatbot-chatgpt-magazine-clarkesworld-artificial-intelligence

LLMs generate naturalistic prose. This is an impressive technical feat, and the details are genuinely fascinating. This series by Ben Levinstein is a must-read peek under the hood:

https://benlevinstein.substack.com/p/how-to-think-about-large-language

But "naturalistic prose" isn't necessarily good prose. A lot of naturalistic language is awful. In particular, legal documents are fucking terrible. Lawyers affect a stilted, stylized language that is both officious and obfuscated.

The LLM I accidentally used to rewrite my legal threat transmuted my own prose into something that reads like it was written by a $600/hour paralegal working for a $1500/hour partner at a white-show law-firm. As such, it sends a signal: "The person who commissioned this letter is so angry at you that they are willing to spend $600 to get you to cough up the $400 you owe them. Moreover, they are so well-resourced that they can afford to pursue this claim beyond any rational economic basis."

Let's be clear here: these kinds of lawyer letters aren't good writing; they're a highly specific form of bad writing. The point of this letter isn't to parse the text, it's to send a signal. If the letter was well-written, it wouldn't send the right signal. For the letter to work, it has to read like it was written by someone whose prose-sense was irreparably damaged by a legal education.

Here's the thing: the fact that an LLM can manufacture this once-expensive signal for free means that the signal's meaning will shortly change, forever. Once companies realize that this kind of letter can be generated on demand, it will cease to mean, "You are dealing with a furious, vindictive rich person." It will come to mean, "You are dealing with someone who knows how to type 'generate legal threat' into a search box."

Legal threat letters are in a class of language formally called "bullshit":

https://press.princeton.edu/books/hardcover/9780691122946/on-bullshit

LLMs may not be good at generating science fiction short stories, but they're excellent at generating bullshit. For example, a university prof friend of mine admits that they and all their colleagues are now writing grad student recommendation letters by feeding a few bullet points to an LLM, which inflates them with bullshit, adding puffery to swell those bullet points into lengthy paragraphs.

Naturally, the next stage is that profs on the receiving end of these recommendation letters will ask another LLM to summarize them by reducing them to a few bullet points. This is next-level bullshit: a few easily-grasped points are turned into a florid sheet of nonsense, which is then reconverted into a few bullet-points again, though these may only be tangentially related to the original.

What comes next? The reference letter becomes a useless signal. It goes from being a thing that a prof has to really believe in you to produce, whose mere existence is thus significant, to a thing that can be produced with the click of a button, and then it signifies nothing.

We've been through this before. It used to be that sending a letter to your legislative representative meant a lot. Then, automated internet forms produced by activists like me made it far easier to send those letters and lawmakers stopped taking them so seriously. So we created automatic dialers to let you phone your lawmakers, this being another once-powerful signal. Lowering the cost of making the phone call inevitably made the phone call mean less.

Today, we are in a war over signals. The actors and writers who've trudged through the heat-dome up and down the sidewalks in front of the studios in my neighborhood are sending a very powerful signal. The fact that they're fighting to prevent their industry from being enshittified by plausible sentence generators that can produce bullshit on demand makes their fight especially important.

Chatbots are the nuclear weapons of the bullshit wars. Want to generate 2,000 words of nonsense about "the first time I ate an egg," to run overtop of an omelet recipe you're hoping to make the number one Google result? ChatGPT has you covered. Want to generate fake complaints or fake positive reviews? The Stochastic Parrot will produce 'em all day long.

As I wrote for Locus: "None of this prose is good, none of it is really socially useful, but there’s demand for it. Ironically, the more bullshit there is, the more bullshit filters there are, and this requires still more bullshit to overcome it."

Meanwhile, AA still hasn't answered my letter, and to be honest, I'm so sick of bullshit I can't be bothered to sue them anymore. I suppose that's what they were counting on.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/07/govern-yourself-accordingly/#robolawyers

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0

https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[venusbby]

characters/pairings: itoshi sae x reader

warnings: fluff. the reader is an avid reader lmao so funny. sort of clingy sae? annoyed sae? just sae. maybe ooc too but idrc.

note: self indulgent because i've been reading this one book nonstop for the past week and can't think of anything else. wondered how sae would act with a reader who likes to read a lot like me lol this is lowkey bad forgive me sorry for typos

🌊 summary: sae starts to get annoyed because you won't stop reading your book. (and also because you won't give him your attention, but that's a secret— that isn't as well kept as he thinks it is.)

"y/n," sae muttered. he watched you with a glare, noticing how you had heard him clearly yet still ignored him, continuing to smile to yourself with your bottom lip between your teeth. he rolled his eyes, trying again, this time resting his hand on your thigh. his fingers impatiently tapping against the soft skin.

"y/n."

no response. you even giggled as you read the lines in that book you had been attached to all day long. that little 600 page romance book that entertained you so much more than he could— what the hell was it even about?

sae knew you loved books. you visited the library nearby almost every week, and he couldn't even decide if it was because the lady there was so nice to you or because you wanted to get away from him. there was no way he was that boring, right?

it was always sae who accepted all your amazon packages for the books that hadn't yet arrived in the library— and although the sight of your excited smile when he told you it was finally here was something, he never understood the hype at all.

why would he, when his sport was his all-time focus? books weren't ever as exciting to him as they were to you. so as long as you got any and every book you wanted (he made sure of that) he was alright.

but right now, sae had this urge to hide all your books from you.

especially this one.

because it stole you from him.

sae was annoyed. and he was even more annoyed that he started to think about hiding your books away from you like a madman, because it's fucking embarrassing that he's going borderline insane just because you haven't talked or even looked at him for the past two hours. and he's been in bed next to you this whole time.

he cursed under his breath and subtly thrashed around under the covers like a child who didn't get the toy he wanted. he shifted closer to you in the midst of his little quiet tantrum. "y/n. look at me."

"yeah?"

when you finally looked at him, it was as if he'd found oxygen.

and he hated it even more. why was he like this for you?

but then you went back to that book.

that stupid fucking book. again.

sae was going to cry.

fuck no, he wasn't. he won't. not ever. that's lame. so lame.

whatever. if you liked your book that much, maybe he should find something else to do too, he decided.

he turned around with his back to you and shut his eyes.

and then he heard another sigh. a dreamy one, at that.

"alright, enough. give me that." he jumped up from his sleeping position, grabbing the book from your hands. he didn't even know how to properly hold a book, but he didn't find it in himself to care as he shut it close, a breath of relief escaping from his mouth just as you started to whine.

"sae, no," you struggled, trying to get the book back, but you knew better than to fight against your boyfriend who was glaring at you like that with his lips pressed in a sad, thin line. his hair was still a little damp from the shower he took while you were just into the first 60 pages of the book. he swept his hair back, setting the book beside him, where you couldn't reach— atleast not without getting through him.

"i was almost done," you said slowly, trying your best to explain now that you were out of that world. "i promise, just gimme it now 'n i'll finish the first part in just 20 minutes."

sae scoffed. "fucking no."

he stared at the book placed near his side, literally judging it by its cover. "what's in this that has you giggling so much? some dude?"

you gasped, dramatically. "okay, he is not some dude. he is my husband."

"oi," sae groaned, things still not getting better for him even after that book had been closed and put away from you. "i'm sleeping next to you shirtless, and you've been giggling with your book husband?"

"you're always shirtless, though."

"that doesn't fucking matter." he retorted, huffing and looking to the side, chin up. you pursed your lips, placing a soft hand on his back, and leaning closer to leave a kiss on his shoulder. he always smelled so nice. he shook you off.

"baby, my sweet sae, if you wanted me to stop reading, you could have just said so." you smiled, watching him run another hand through his hair, his fingers pulling on his roots this time.

"first of all, i don't want your attention." he said blankly, finally looking at you. "and second, you ignored me when i said your name. guess you were too busy with your husband."

you laughed quietly, incredibly amused. about an hour ago, you were actually expecting sae to go back to sleep after showering— but for some reason, you were glad he didn't. this new side of him was so adorable that you never wanted it to end.

you sighed, lying back down, urging him to do the same. he listened as you explained, with you on your side facing him. "you know, i love this book a lot."

"i can see that."

so snarky. you resisted the urge to kiss his slightly puffed out cheek.

"it's really romantic. it's about the relationship of this newly married couple, how it develops day by day, and it's so cute. the main guy— my 'husband', is so good to the main character."

sae raised an eyebrow lazily, still opting to look at the ceiling and didn't respond. you weren't going to gain his attention this easily after that.

you went on. "and this guy reminds me of you. like, you guys are similar to an unhealthy extent. and the reason i was so invested in it was because there was a particular scene where things got a little hot."

"so?" he asked, still not convinced.

your cheeks were reddened from embarrassment. "so, whenever he said or did something, i thought of you. and that is why i was giggling."

sae turned to look at you. his eyes looked much more focused on your lips. he had forgotten how much he missed the feeling of kissing you. again, feeling another annoying pang in his heart because seriously, it had just been two hours. he had to stop acting like you'd been away for days.

"so basically you were having sex with 'book me' in your mind."

"oh god, no!"

"that's exactly it."

"you're so wrong."

"shut up, i'm right."

you groaned, covering your face with your palms and closing your eyes. you felt sae's arm slowly trailing around your stomach, him shifting closer until you could feel his breath fanning against your neck. you giggled out of nervousness and embarrassment, both. "that was not what was happening, okay?"

his lips twitched slightly at your state. "you know i'm way better than him."

"...are you, though?" you peeked one eye open, dragging out your words, guilty. fictional men were just different—

"ah, do you need proof?" he said, a smug look on his face as he began hovering over you. your laugh echoed through the room as you smacked his chest playfully, your arms going around his neck to pull him down on top of you.

"i don't need proof, thank you very much." you said softly with another laugh, letting sae rest his head on your chest. "but i wanna make it up to you for ignoring you. im sorry, my sae. i'll be better. you were just really cute."

"don't do it again," he said, staring up at you from his comfortable position. "or else you might have to go back to your 'husband'."

"i won't really mind— wait, baby, don't go! i was joking!"

taglist: @hyomagiri @yoimyas @beanxiv @hqfeatbetty @shuvvloverrr 🤞🤪

[yesimwriting]

okay but after the whole lucy gray thing we know coryo was done with “love” and everything BUT what if during the following year of thg he ends up falling in love with another tribute also from district 12 and he’s just going through it bad (again) however he somehow ends up actually getting the girl in the end, maybe even buying her way into the capitol

A/n I've been thinking about a very specific part of this since i first read it but i told myself no more fic writing until i finished at least one of my essays for finals seasons 😭

also ik in the book (and it's implied in the movie) that after the events of the book he lives with the plinths, but let's pretend he lives on his own with access to the plinth fortune for privacy

ik that makes it sound like it's smutty, but it's not lol

----

Proximity aggravates distance. The closer you are to something, the more damage any remaining space causes.

The few feet dividing the two of you have no right to jab at something inside of him the way it does. It's bad enough that instead of going to bed after a long night of fulfilling his apprenticeship duties under Volumnia's watchful eye, he stopped by your apartment. Only one floor away from his.

For months, the only thing holding the two of you together had been memories of those few nights before the Games.

Coriolanus's attempt to remain indifferent towards you had quickly failed, and his backup plan of learning to loathe you had proven to be just as useless. So he settled on letting you unabashedly take his hand whenever fear overwhelmed you and committing the way your kind eyes watched him to memory.

You're looking around the room--his room--openly, eyes darting from the mahogany surface of his desk to the details elegantly carved into his bed frame.

His fingertips itch with the uncertain desire to reach for you. You've only been in the Capitol for about a day and a half. Less than 48 hours. But the move, the beginning of a program for certain, qualifying victors and their families, had been planned for months.

You shouldn't feel like a phantom that'll vanish if he lets go for too long. "What are you thinking about?"

The question grounds you the same way it did last time he asked. You do your best to hide it, but you're still adjusting, still surprised that he managed to find a way to bring you together again. Just like he promised. Your doubt isn't personal, a fact he has to remind himself of.

"I'm just..." You tilt your head slightly, gaze retreating from the royal blue wallpaper and silver trim of his bedroom walls, "Analyzing."

The comment is followed by an easygoing smile that pinches at something in his chest. His new apartment, the penthouse of one of the largest buildings in the city, another gift from the ever flowing well that is the Plinth fortune, still reeks of former poverty. The few things that hint at the personal are hidden behind layers of desperate wealth so thick the items might as well be standard.

A lifetime spent in 12 means that there's no way you can read between the lines. He can't decide if your perspective will make this room look worse or better. It's a nice bedroom, definitely grander than any bedroom you've stood in before...but it's understated. Maybe even disappointing to someone like you.

"Analyzing?"

You turn fully, "A bedroom says a lot about a person."

"You might get more out of analyzing my study," an oddly school boy worthy partial truth slips out before he can stop himself, "I think I've been spending more time there than here recently."

You shake your head once, eyes landing on the crimson red vase filed with crisp white roses his grandma'am had gifted him on his last visit. Her pride and joy now more than ever. "I'm seeing all I need."

A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. It's the most genuine expression that's slipped past him in weeks. When he first worked out a way to bring you here, some doubting part of him wondered if the draw he felt towards you would still exist in person.

Less than two weeks after your victorious departure from the Capitol, he had searched through your files and found your address. He had written the letter in a moment of weakness and only sent it after deciding that writing a letter to never be sent is the only thing more pathetic than writing to you in the first place. He had spent the week following that wallowing in self loathing until an age-stained envelope arrived at his door.

"And what are you seeing?" He keeps his tone light. This is ridiculous. He dragged himself and his family out of a gutter clogged by the casualties of war. Coriolanus is stronger than fleeting emotion now. Your opinions on his room can't possibly affect him.

If he were to simplify what brought you here, to the Capitol, to him, he could blame it on his bedroom. The urge to see you, to figure out some way the two of you closer together before your undeserving district could swallow you whole in an attempt to make you like them, would flare up whenever he received one of your letters.

Those urges, however, had never burned him. Not until you wrote about wanting to see him out of the most curious nostalgia you'd ever felt. You wanted to see him in a way that'd let you know what his room looked like, in a way that'd let you guess at his favorite color.

He takes a few steps forward, making the conscious decision to not reach for you. You've never rejected his advances, not even when he instinctually intertwined your fingers after picking you and your family up from the train station. You had scolded him after, telling him that you'd hear no end of it from your mother. It took a lot of focus for Coriolanus to not smile at that. You spoke of it like it would've never occurred to you to just pull your hand away.

Your eyes shift from end of the room to the other. Coriolanus moves carefully, passing you before sitting at the edge of his crisply made bed.

"Before you make your decision..." You turn instinctually, expression so polite and expecting he almost doesn't know how to bear it. His hand briefly pats the space beside him in a silent invitation. "So you can see it from all perspectives."

Your head tilts slightly, and for a moment, Coriolanus can practically feel your rejection. Then you move, sock clad feet treading over smooth white-gray marble. You sit next to him so assuredly, anyone else would have taken the way you neatly fold your hands in your lap as politeness instead of a display of nerves.

Your family's presence makes you less pliable. It's a factor he's willing to work around considering that you would've never left them to come to the Capitol. And even if he had managed to talk you into it, your nostalgia and homesickness would've made you more of a ghost to him than before.

At least the position your family's in is uncertain enough to allow for some leeway in the social norms that you cling to. However, every once in awhile it hits you that at the end of the day, he's still a boy that you're close to, which means that it's your duty to create the distance necessary to keep everything proper. Leaving your bedroom in the middle of the night because said boy knocked at your door and then entering his room in his empty penthouse is something you would've done under normal circumstances.

But your connection isn't that black and white. If it was something so simple, he would have been able to sever it the night before your Games.

"It makes all the difference," you agree warmly, and only somewhat sarcastically. You give yourself another second to take in the space, "I like it."

He can tell that you mean it. "I haven't fully settled in yet."

You shrug, paying him little mind, "There's something about it that just feels like you."

Coriolanus shifts his focus to the ground. You can't possibly mean it in the way that he sees the room, as a reminder that he still doesn't fully fit into who he's become.

"I've been meaning to pick up a few things," he says, "Tomorrow, after my classes, I was thinking about browsing some paintings." Another half truth. He had been meaning to. Mrs. Plinth had instructed him to visit her art dealer whenever he had enough free time to pick out a few pieces to demonstrate his taste. He'd been putting it off as a dismissable task, but it feels like a safe way to give you your first taste of life in the Capitol. "If you'd like to help me pick some out."

You smile, eyebrows pinching together in a way that's just barely noticeable. You're as interested as you are puzzled. "I'd like that." Relaxing enough to let your hand rest between the two of you, you beam, "I don't know if I'd be much help, but I'd like that."

He'd be willing to get anything that caught your eye. Paintings and vases already with such an exclusive art dealer hold more or less the same level of standing, anyway.

Coriolanus moves his hand slowly, careful not to startle you before his fingers can settle against your own. You instinctually turn over your palm, intertwining your fingers. "I trust you."

You stare at him with wide, understanding eyes. Sometimes when you look at him, really look at him, Coriolanus is struck with the feeling that you can see right through him. It's an irrational feeling, that every good action and cruel deed is reflected in his eyes. Moments like this make it hard to be near you. They also, however, make the thought of adding distance between the two of you unbearable.

"I have an early class."

You dip your chin forward in an attempt to accept what you're considering a dismissal. "Right, you must be tired." The words sit between you for a long moment.

Your free hand presses into the silk of your still new pajamas. You shift like you're going to stand. His hold on your hand tightens before you can move away. You still.

He's being ridiculous. There's nothing about this situation that warrants his inability to look at you. "Stay here." His thumb runs across your knuckles. "With me."

The words are soft enough to be a request, but there's not enough space between them for questioning. He cautiously lifts his head enough to take in your reaction.

"What?" It's a display of shock more than an actual question. Coriolanus squeezes your hand even tighter. You don't try to get him to let go, but you do shift away just enough to create the reminder of distance. "You know I can't."

His other hand reaches forward, settling against your wrist. "Why not?" He doesn't mean for his voice to come off as raspy, as desperate as it does.

You swallow, attempting to straighten your spine in an attempt to offset the instinctual urge to hide your face. This isn't a topic you're even comfortable implying. "My mother would kill me if she so much as found out that I came up here so late, let alone..." You trail off, head dropping to your lap. "Stayed here."

He envelops your hand between both of his. "She knows we're friendly."

You look up just long enough to imply a pointed not that friendly. "It's--" You blink, eyes darting from to your joint hands and then finally to the ground. "You know it's..."

Coriolanus leans forward. The shift is small, just enough for his knee to brush against yours. "It's what?" He keeps his voice low, a barely there whisper that comes off as so innocent it nearly circles back to anything but.

You glance up, so wide eyed and flighty he's reminded of a rabbit. The level of precaution you're exuding can't just be about your mother's opinions, can it? He studies your expression openly, taking in the set of your eyebrows and the way you steadily press your lips together to avoid speaking without thinking. At least some part of you believes in your mother's concerns.

The realization strike shim so quickly he has to focus on keeping his expression neutral. Your bond is so much more than just coming together on a random night where exhaustion's already clouding his focus.

It will happen between the two of you. Eventually. But not yet. You've barely entered the Capitol and every aspect of your life has become vastly different than what you're accustomed to. If he were to attempt to cement any relationship between the two of you like that now, you'd be too overwhelmed or you might think that that's the only reason he brought you here.

He learned early on that it's best to introduce adjustments to you slowly, giving you enough time to hold onto ideas before enacting them. Anything of that nature would work that way too.

"I haven't been able to see much of you." He focuses on your hand, still resting safely between both of his. The words came out too quickly, a flash of some genuine sort of emotion that claw at him on the way out. With you, sometimes a glimpse of feeling works wonders.

Your thumb draws gentle patterns against the side of his hand. "You're busy." He relaxes his hand, turning over his palm. You place his hand on your knee, fingers tracing the natural creases etched into his skin. "You're important."

The way that last word comes out makes an uncertain warmth crawl up his neck. "I--I've wanted to see you more." Another thing he means so much it turns his stomach to admit it.

Your nail drags down a line that cuts across the length of his hand. "Me too."

He bends his fingers slowly, moving in until he's trapped your pointer finger against his palm. "Then stay." You twist your finger enough to express some lighthearted irritation, but not enough to count as a real attempt at escaping. "If your mother says anything, I'll explain it to her." You glare at him without any true aggression. "She likes me, doesn't she?"

Coriolanus already knows the answer. She credits your survival to him. You had mentioned that in a letter once, telling him that she insisted you pass along her gratitude after discovering that the two of you had started to correspond regularly.

He also saw the way she reacted to realizing that she had made it to the Capitol. Your mother's family had once been part of the wealthier side of 12. You're part of a recently fallen line of mine owners, a fact that your mother has only pretended to let go of. He saw a hunger behind her eyes that reminded him of a warped version of his own.

Coriolanus gave her back the pride the war had stolen from her family name tenfold. He owes her this much.

"She'd trade me for you in a heartbeat." He hears the grin in your voice more than he sees it. Your family means the world to you, which means he's subjected himself to seeking your mother's validation and winning over your two younger sisters.

It's not the way he'd choose to spend his limited free time, especially with you standing right there, but he's endured worse for less of a pay off. "Then she'd be a fool."

You fight to hold his gaze. "I doubt that."

Your eyes are pools of honest, unfiltered affection. The care that you're watching him with makes it hard to swallow. The instinct to press, to dig and claw and tear anything that could be hiding an ulterior motive into shreds makes it hard to take a full breath. You've always worn your heart on your sleeve. You're not a flighty songbird that uses its charm to distract its prey from its fang-like talons.

"Stay." Again. So breathless he almost doesn't recognize the word as his own.

The deliberation is transparent behind your eyes. You're considering it, but you're still not convinced. The hesitation stings in a way he doesn't understand. "I don't want to give her a reason to not like you."

So softly spoken he's shocked by the way the words manage to feel like a nail being hammered into his chest.

"She's let you stay with other people before." The response is too sharp, too sudden. He should refocus and think through what he's about to say. Coriolanus knows that it's easier to get you to agree to something through the use of honey sweetened words and displays of patience. "You wrote about him."

The confusion that briefly etches its way into your expression threatens to quell the uncomfortable swell of jealousy tightening his chest. "Warren?" The name makes tints the air between you with something acidic. "That was--different."

Your explanation adds an edge to the pressure in his chest. "Why?"

"We weren't--" You cut yourself off, the instinct to placate him and your desire to not start a conversation you can't finish battling each other oddly. "We were never alone." You squeeze his hand as best as you can. "He's a family friend and I only stayed over when my mom had to work late and I was too young to be alone for so long, so I haven't stayed over in years. And--and he shared a room with three of his siblings and his parents checked on us constantly."

He frowns, unconvinced. The lack of approval has you clinging to him, adjusting your hold on his hand as you gently trail your knuckles against the inside of his wrist. "I do miss you." You stare at your hands. "I know it's weird because we're--y'know--closer than before, but I-I do miss you."

The expanding wave of tension in his chest begins to deflate. You're good at that, at redirecting and soothing without even realizing it. A talent that had contributed to his original desire to loathe you. "I understand that." He runs his thumb over your knuckles. "Things aren't going to get less busy. That's why I want to use all the time we have."

You nod slowly, a hint of understanding making its appearance in the set of your brow. "I know."

"What you wrote," he begins, too aware of how much he means the question that follows, "Did you mean it."

"Of course I did." Not an ounce of hesitation, of uncertainty.

He turns your hand over before shifting his fingers up the inside of your wrist. "You wrote about wanting to see me."

"I did..." The pad of his thumb gently makes its way up your forearm. Your even breathing falters. "I do."

Coriolanus lets himself look up just enough to take in your expression. "Then stay." He swallows, too aware of the sudden dryness of his mouth. "Please."

You glance up at him through your lashes. There's a softness there that jabs at him. "Okay."

He lifts the back of your hand, carefully brushing his lips against your skin. "You mentioned wanting to see a library."

You wrote about it once. A brief mention in one of your letters of the small room in your school's office that served as a sort of communal study space with a few books stacked on a small shelf. Your longing had been clear.

Nodding curiously, you agree, "Yeah?"

"I could leave for my classes a little earlier tomorrow, you could come with me." The proposal comes out slowly, his own suggestion taking him by surprise. "My driver could bring you back, that'll give you time to meet the tutor that's being sent over for your sisters, and then when I get back we'll look at the paintings."

You immediately grin, "Really?"

He finds himself smiling back, pulling your arm closer. "Whatever you want."

You beam. "I'd really like that."

"Good," he affirms with a nod of his head that's a touch too forward. He regrets it almost immediately. "If you like it, I might be able to get your own tutor to meet you at a library."

Part of the still uncertain victor program relies on setting up the victor and their family with a new life. Education plays a role in that. Placing any one of you in an actual Capitol run institution is far out of the question. For everyone's sake. Even if the thought of sharing a classroom with someone from 12 didn't horrify the Capitol parents, you and your siblings wouldn't be able to just jump in. It's not that he views you as unintelligent, but District 12's education system isn't exactly on par with the Capitol's.

"That sounds nice," you sit up a little straighter, excited by the prospect, "A part of me kind of misses school."

Another aspect of your personality that he had learned about after your Games. You like school for the sake of it. "I'll check on the arrangements tomorrow."

He clears his throat before you can do more than just nod, "It's getting late."

Coriolanus carefully sets your hand down on the comforter. You awkwardly shift, now more aware of what you agreed to than ever. "Right," you push yourself to stand, "You need your sleep."

He pulls back his sheets before you can think about it even further. You crawl into the provided space without looking at anything in particular. He's quick to join you beneath the safety of plush bedding before leaning over and turning off the bedside lamp.

Darkness floods the space. There's something about the absence of light that makes things feel heavier. The potential intimacy of the situation sneaks up on him with no warning.

This isn't a loss of control. It can't be. It was his idea, he had pushed and convinced you to stay here. He's aware of everything that's led up to this moment, but that's not enough to stop him from wondering if this is something than he should have known better than to embrace. He had accepted the familiar, fickle knotting of his stomach once before.

Steady warmth presses itself against his arm. He blinks, head turning a second too quickly. Your hand has found his. Coriolanus relaxes, allowing himself to fully relax against his pillow. You pick up on his shift, reflecting it by laying down as well.

For someone that had been so hesitant, you seem to know what to do better than he does. You pull his arm towards you, gently trailing your fingers against the exposed skin. Heat crawls up his neck.

"Goodnight," you mumble, voice already drowsy.

Coriolanus lets out a long breath. He grasps your hand, bringing it back to his lips before settling back into the position the two of you were in before. "Goodnight."

[graysnetwork]

i was watching Gilmore girls at the beginning of the year i think and then i suddenly got the urge to watch again, so i'm finally on the last episode of season 2. Im completely in love with Tristan but at the moment i'm loving jess (i also searched up jess edits on tiktok and i've spoiled things for myself so i will be debating on skipping that one scene)

Also Ik this is not the best but I hope u guys like it

Warnings— none

Summary— Jess is turning into a great student and Luke not lorelai can think of a reason he’s become an amazing kid all of a sudden.

The library

Two full weeks, two full weeks had gone by now and no calls from the school had been made to Luke's phone. This was more concerning than actually getting calls from the school. And another notable thing was that Jess started leaving every day at the same time 6:30 and he'd come back home at 9:30 or even earlier.

Luke was getting suspicious but he didn't exactly know how to bring it up since it was very possible he was cheating on his tests, maybe copying off some one else for work. So he decided he'd mention it another day, and every time that decided day came by he'd put it off again, and again.

the two of them were in the diner, it was surprisingly very quiet, there was only one person which was also surprising and then the person walked out. Jess started cleaning up the table before checking his watch.

6:15

He dropped the towel and rushed upstairs, he came back down with a backpack, had he been hiding that thing?

"where are you goin?" Luke asked, finally looking up from the counter “somewhere.” “what do you have in there?” “some things” he shrugged and opened the door, before he could even get one foot out the door he could hear Luke’s heavy steps get closer to him, he turned around again.

“What do you have in there” Luke said again, “why do you wanna know, it’s nothing important” Jess rolled his eyes and checked his watch again.

6:20

“I’ve never even seen you come outside with a backpack, and I need to know if you’re stealing things again” Luke gave him an annoyed stare, Jess unzipped the the bag and showed the books in his backpacks.

“Oh” Luke muttered, and looked over to the side “happy? Cause I need to get going” he zipped the bag up again. “where have you been going?” Luke sighed, it was time he got the truth.

“why do you wanna know?” Jess rolled his eyes again, “because I gotta know these things” another sigh came out of Luke, and Jess mumbled something. It took a good few minutes to get him to admit.

“I’m goin to the library”

He said it quietly but at least it was coherent.

———

“You’re late” you smiled as Jess sat down in front of you, “I know, I’m sorry, Luke wouldn’t let me go until I told him where I was going and what I was bringing” he smiled back at you and took out his books. “well, you’re here now, that’s what matters to me, now what’s today? math?” You smiled again and the two of you started opening your books.

“Today is math day” jess nodded and started reading your math notes.

———

“Jess, in the library? Is he meeting behind it and doing something?” Lorelai drank her coffee, “I didn’t think about that” Luke said as he gave her a doughnut.

The moment very quickly ended when Jess came in and quickly went upstairs without saying a word, Luke and Lorelai could hear the thud from Jess’s backpack hitting the floor.

Jess came back down and grabbed a doughnut; pink icing. Very weird to the two adults in the diner. Unknowing to them the only reason he grabbed it was because you swore that the pink icing on the doughnuts taste different.

———

“So anything new and interesting happening?” You asked as you and Jess walked around after studying, it was the quickest you’ve ever studied but that was because it was English, all jess had to do was read and write some answers.

“no, but, if you call getting a new shipments for the diner interesting, than yes, there something new happening” he smiled at you, “sounds very interesting” you smiled back at him.

“what about you?” Jess turned to you again “what about me? Nothing” you shrugged “cmon there’s gotta be something that’s happened so far this week” Jess said, “there’s nothing, nothings happened, and im 100 percent sure nothings gonna happen” you smiled again at him.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and smiled “how about I give you something to look forward to then since you’re free” Jess’s brows perked up, “really? how?” your hand reached up and grabbed his that was on your shoulder.

“how bout you, me, and chinese food, and we can do it on, Friday? You said your parents are leaving on Friday right?” He smiled as you two got closer to Luke’s diner.

“yeah, my parents are going on Friday.. that sounds like a plan” you smiled “it’s a date” he smiled. “Cmon I’ll walk you home” he walked past the diner “thanks Jess” you wrapped your arm around his waist as the two of you continued you way down the street.

-

“Did I see that right?” Lorelai’s eyes were wide and her brows were furrowed, “wow” Luke said, it was the only thing that could be uttered at the moment as they had just seen; You and Jess walking together.

“That must be why he’s going to the library so much! y/n’s always at the library!” Her mouth hung open in shock, it was silent for a few moments “y’know what, this is good” like said as he nodded while drinking his coffee.

“This is good?” She looked at him confused, “yes, he’s doing good in school, and it seems like he really likes y/n, as long as he isn’t hurting her, or doing bad things than I’m happy about this” Luke smiled “I guess this is good..” Lorelai smiled back at him.

———

[sanctus-ingenium]

another one of these posts lol... sketches vs final. not much changed for these ones, i kind of went into them with a very solid mental image already in my head. all of these were done start to finish in procreate

thoughts below the cut

horse fight .... this is based off a really really beautiful sky i saw while driving home one evening. i'm really proud of getting the colours i saw exactly right, this kind of greenish yellow fading to dark blue and with grey clouds low over it that looked very dark against the yellow by the horizon, but very pale against the dark blue.

i thought it would be a cool backdrop to draw a scene i've been thinking about for a while. The little cartoony horses are there to provide some tonal whiplash but also because these are two immortal shapeshifters who can fight violently without it being a huge deal. the little horses represent the actual gravity of the fight (that is, kind of a slap fight between two drama queens) which contrasts with the visuals of two animals brutally tearing at eachother. also i got the two horses at the bottom mixed up, Pascal is the one with the skinny plumed tail and Macha has a more traditional horse tail and i put them on the wrong sides.

i had a LOT of trouble shading this. i didn't want the horses to be too shiny but that meant a much lower contrast in shading and even with my screen brightness turned up i could barely see what i was doing. but i wanted it to read as realistic. mixed results i think. if i did it again i might try a different shading style because this one didn't really do it for me

--

spooky van!!! the post i deleted by accident (rip. i will repost it soon). this is a picture of the barrow (the field) taking a different shape - in this case a cool van. the van contains every single thing the field does (including the human victims that get lost in there...) but compressed down into a manageable shape. the void is Pascal because the field is inside him. he did this for his human bf to provide novel way to travel through the Otherworld. don't ask how this works like, spatially, because the answer is: i don't do hard magic systems in this setting

i loooove shading things with pencil hatching and i really like contrasting it with smooth colours/shading so that's mainly what i did here. it was simple enough. the van is of course heavily referenced and i wish i had been able to stylise it a little more.. maybe next time. i want to draw a kind of cutaway illustration of the van showing exterior and interior (like an old blueprint schematic), which i might use as a cover for the book/comic/whatever but that will require a very intimidating level of precision so i think i'll work up to that.

--

RUA magazine. this is my third time doing a rua magazine cover (first time posting tho). this is an in-universe magazine distributed throughout the Otherworld to an audience of fairies. in the sketch, the illustation was originally the King of Pentacles tarot card (the pentacle being the disco ball). but i decided to make a different King of Pentacles card for him instead, since I try hard to move away from symmetrical composition for the tarot cards (it's boring). so i repurposed this one into another magazine cover. like i said Pascal is a self-absorbed attention whore and has a habit of giving bullshit interviews just so that he can be on the cover as much as possible. he dresses like this all the time (the year is 2017)

the disco ball took 15 years off my life and it's not even the first disco ball i've drawn! i finished my actual king of pentacles card before i finished the rua cover sketch, so i can show u this

which is much better even if i did reference so heavily that it isn't exactly stylised. but this card needs some serious revision before i even think about posting it. i'm just not happy with his face.

original intent was for it be mysterious with emphasis on the neon lights but it ended up far more suggestive than i expected. that's life!

[sen-ya]

Life After Info Post

[Click here to access the Life After Digital Comic Book]

Summary: Two years ago, a viral outbreak rose the dead. Considering how his life had gone up to this point, surgeon Trafalgar Law figured this might as well happen too. When a supply run into the nearby city gets intercepted by a seemingly reckless and impulsive former patient, the dependable routine Law had settled into in this new life shatters. He finds himself exposed — his body out in the infected landscape, his conscious clawing to define what he believes is right, his heart begrudgingly deciding to find a new home on his sleeve. Maybe there’s more than a virus roaming the new world that can bring a dead man back to life.

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence, zombies/body horror (but lbr I am not good at making scary things look scary)

Relationships: Luffy x Law

Update Schedule: New page every Monday/Wednesday/Friday

Page Count: [37 posted | 55 drawn]

Latest Update: [7/21/24] WOWEE did I get myself carried away this morning. I just spent 5 hours organizing my comics and creating the digital comic book pages. I could have spent that time drawing or idk not doing what I do for my job, but I cannot be stopped. Anyway I blocked out 30 pages of this comic last week and they include the most intense action sequence I've ever done in my gotdang life. Wish me luck because I am nervous about tying down all my drawings lmao.

OLD UPDATES:

[6/29/24] HULLO! I'm doing so bad at keeping my masterposts updated lately I am sorry. All pages of life after are tagged life after if you're ever looking between masterpost updates! Also exciting update, I finally have figured out all the different plot points i'm gonna be hitting (yay!). I got hung up on something for awhile that made me not wanna work on this project, but I'm back at it. I think we'll end up with 6-7 parts! I have probably another 80-100 pages to draw lol. Also i got the app Magic Poser and it's AWESOME and I immediately used it to block out sets cuz MAN I hate backgrounds.

[6/10/24] HELLO. I'm sorry I've been shit at updating my masterposts lately. It's easiest to do from my computer, which I rarely use, and life has been happening. I also can't believe I bungled the queue and posted pg19 before pg18 i am very sorry 🤦 Eventually I'll have to turn this into an airtable base I'm sure, but until that day comes where I have like 100 pages of this comic we're stickin to the regular post lmao

[5/26/23] I got real caught up in doing summer of lawlu comics this week and this is the first week since the first week of April I haven't drawn new Life After pages and it feels weird 🙊

[5/19/24] More Luffy backstory comin' this week! :^)

[5/12/24] Updating now so get myself on schedule to update on Sundays like I had been with my other comic master post!

[5/8/24] Thank you to everyone who's liked/reblogged/comment on the first few pages!! It means the world to me that anyone's reading my silly little comics.

[4/28/24] HULLO. It’s happeninnng. I’ve spent the last few weeks working on this comic, and I gotta make this post so I can start queuing pages & link this in them! This is the most like….legit? Comic endeavor I’ve undertaken perhaps….ever. I’m very nervous about committing to how long it will need to be lol. This story is dear to my heart — zombie content is kind of my very favorite. I’ve always found it to be a great backdrop for exploring themes like grief, coping with change, community, and learning to live again. It’ll be a long haul but I hope you’ll ride it out with me!! Tomorrow I’ll be posting the first two pages. After that a page will post every Monday/Wednesday/Friday. As of this post I’ve completed over 20 pages so that I have a good lead on what’s posting and continuing to write, so I’m hopeful that’s a cadence I’ll be able to maintain. I’ll update this post weekly to include the most recent pages the way I do with my main comics master post. All pages will be tagged 'Life After' and I'll tag any pages with zombies in them with 'zombie' for blacklisting etc.

[greeneyed-thestral]

I MET MICHAEL SHEEN. 16/03/24, National Theatre

So, if you've read my post about booking tickets to see Michael, you know all about my what-ifs. But the day was finally here.

I arrived at the National Theatre, followed all the Nye signs and here's the Olivier Theatre. I made my sister buy me the show's programme, hoping I would be able to get it signed.

I find my seat, I'm not in the centre but the stage still feels very close and you can see everything (amphitheatres are always the best).

Lights out. The audience is in religious silence. Can't believe I'm actually here, this is happening.

[skip this part in smaller font, if you want to avoid spoilers] In the words of Staged, he really loses himself in his roles. First of all, it's great to hear him speak in a Welsh accent.

But then we also see him turning back into a child, and you can totally believe he's young and innocent again. His stutter feels so real, his struggle and sadness too. The entire ensamble is great during the classroom scene, where they all help Nye against their bullying teacher (using those big canes to make him look scary really works). Hearing young Nye confessing that at times he thinks he 'shouldn't exist' because of who he is was a gut punch; Michael's delivery of that whole part is incredible, in that moment he really becomes a little boy that allows himself to feel vulnerable and says something dark to a friend. The way he jumps while saying "I can visualise and enunciate!" made me wanna jump too, he was ready to give up and then he found the solution through books, it's the joy and relief you feel when you realise that there is another way and your life is not over.

Now, I've watched musicals all my life and let me tell you that man is meant to be in one. He opened his mouth and all I could see was someone that had been waiting a long time for the occasion to show his talent, truly showstopping. He was so free and happy and confident, singing and dancing spectacularly. I couldn't stop smiling and giggling, we all clapped.

It's clear he means every word he says, and when he points and shouts his political arguments at the audience, those who feel called out must be shaking; I thought 'This is how people in Ancient Greece must have felt everytime they went to the theatre'. His Nye is inspiring, passionate, someone you'd want to follow, he stands up for what he believes in and lets nothing get in his way.

We get to watch him flirt, on all fours, waggling his 'tail'; everytime we think we've seen all he's capable of, he does something like this and surprises us.

But most of all, we see him being scared, first of having to do something, and then of not being able to do enough for all of us. At one point everyone has requests for Nye and I was expecting him to shout "Heal yourselves!" like Jesus in JCS, it totally conveyed what it must have been like to be in his role at the time, overwhelmed with daunting responsibilities.

In general, I appreciated the fact that it wasn't a linear biography, they chose life moments that have universal situations everyone can relate too, like they do in bio-musicals. I loved the staging. The colour palette is so recognisable; the curtains and the beds are used in many different ways so everything is explored at its full potential.

He is on stage basically all the time for more than two hours (sometimes twice a day, can you imagine?). Also barefoot and in his pajamas from start to finish, he looks like a teddy bear you just want to hug and protect.

He bows, looks at Nye's achievements, then leaves the stage.

Standing ovation, applause. I go back to the theatre lobby, I was supposed to wait for my sister, but she's late. Meanwhile, a fan asks me how to get to the Stage Door. I start too fear that I'm going to miss my chance if I keep waiting inside, so I decide to go on my own. After no more than 5 minutes, he's outside with us. Forget Nye, I am living my fever dream. He has just finished his second show of the day and yet he's smiling and listening to each and every one, signing and taking pictures. I know many have said this, but he really is an angel.

My sister arrives, and as soon as I'm sure she has the camera ready, I make my way to him. The two girls next to me who were speaking to him needed a pen and I lent them my sharpie, so I got my chance to look generous in front of him.

And suddently it was my turn. This is as much as my scrambled mind allows me to remember: I tell him I'm Francesca and I'm from Italy, he asks me how long I am going to stay, I confess that I had arrived that morning and just to see him, that I would be leaving already the following morning. I can't even focus while he's signing my programme, I just want to find the right words. I manage to say how I enjoyed seeing his passion, all these different sides of him and how watching him sing and dance has been the highlight of my evening. We take a picture together, I feel his hand on my shoulder and I realise my arm is around the waist of this person I love. I had to thank him again, telling him that he only deserves good things and that we are so lucky to have him. He wishes me a safe trip home, and I melt. I leave and I can't stop trembling. On my way back to the hotel I hold on tight to my signed programme and the sharpie that was in his hands just moments earlier. Only later I will realise that he's also written 'Ciao!', 'love' and 'X', without me asking for it or anything! Seeing him act live was a big gift already, but what followed outside was beyond my dreams. I can't look at the photos without blushing, the way he looks at me in the video and then also strokes my arm for a moment, I mean pinch me now.

The more I think about it, the more I can't believe it happened.

I want to thank everyone that under my first post pushed me and encouraged me to see the pros of doing this, I share this beautiful moment of my life with all of you. <3

[joonsmagicshop]

Bad Idea....right?

Summary: Sneaking into your enemy Jung Hoseok's party to make Kim Taehyung jealous is a bad idea....right?

Paring: Reader/Hoseok (Taehyung, Jimin Jungkook and Namjoon are characters)

Word Count: 8K

Rating: M 18+

Tags: A/U, smut, making someone jealous, douchebag jimin, douchebag taehyung, Dom hobi, best friend namjoon, enemies to lovers, getting ghosted, confessing feelings, fingering, eating pussy, hickies, spanking, Dom Hobi but also soft sweet hobi, penetrative sex, teasing.

Authors Note: I've been reading a lot enemies to lovers and decided to try it out for myself. Because I write so much Namjoon I wanted to broaden my writing so Hobi it is. This was fun to write.

“Hey, Joon!” You say trying to balance the phone on your shoulder as you lean in to apply another layer of mascara, dropping your phone on your vanity in the process.

You let out a frustrated sigh and put him on speaker as you continue to work on your makeup.

“What happened are you okay?” He asks voice laced with concern.

“Yeah I’m okay Joon just dropped my phone. What are you up to tonight?” You ask as you flutter your eyelashes and begin to work on pulling your hair back into a half updo.

“Not much just got a new book I’ve been dying to read so just ordered some dinner and going to read.'“ He says as you softly smile.

“What about you?” He asks.

“Oh you know….not much.” You say as sweetly as you can.

“Y/N I’ve known you for too long to know when you are telling the truth or lying. That was your lying voice.” He replies as you roll your eyes and finally get your hair in a style you like.

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” You tease as you hear him chuckle on the other line.

He knows you too well.

“Y/N please just tell me what you are up to.” He sighs as you stand from your vanity to run your hands down your outfit.

“Well, I called because I did want to know how your night was going. Honest. I also wanted to know if you wanted to go out with me tonight… somewhere.” You say softly.

“Go out where?” Namjoon’s voice is laced with suspicion and it makes you want to laugh. He was always the rock in your friendship, the stable, logical one. You were more wild and free, doing what you wanted and dragging him along for the ride.

“To a party.” You say apprehensively as you hear Namjoon let out an audible groan on the other end.

“It’s not his party is it?” Namjoon asks and you fiddle with your black sheer top.

“Who’s party are you referring to? You tease.

“Jung Hoseok.” Namjoon spits out and you grimace.

The silence on your end tells Namjoon everything he needs to know.

“Y/N, please. Please tell me you are not thinking of sneaking into Jung Hoseok’s house party tonight. You both are going to tear each other apart and I’m not breaking you out of jail when you break his face.” Namjoon sighs sounding weary.

“Relax Namjoon he won’t even know I’m there. Besides I’m not going for him.” You assure him.

“You both hate each other, loathe each other because you tell me how much you hate him all day every day and you think you can sneak into his party unnoticed? Come on Y/N.” Namjoon says as you start to shove things you need into a beaded bag.

“So if not to break his face then what reason do you need to sneak into a house party and drag me along? And if you say Kim Taehyung I’m hanging up on you.” Namjoon says and you bite your lip.

He knows you too damn well.

“Y/N Please tell me you are not going to this party because of Kim Taehyung. Promise me.” He pleads.

“I can’t promise you that Joonie.” You say in a small voice as Namjoon lets out a frustrated groan.

“He went on a date with you and Ghosted you. Poof. Gone. And now you want to sneak into Hoseok’s to do what exactly?” Namjoon grills you as you begin to pace your room.

“I want to go to this party and find a hot stranger to dance with and make him see what he is missing out on.” You respond trying to fight the hurt in your chest.

“Y/N it’s not worth it. He is not worth it. Kim Taehyung is trash, ghosting you like that. Please don’t go it’s such a bad idea.” He pleads but it’s too late, your phone alerts you that your ride is here.

“Namjoon my ride is here. I’m going to be fine. It’s going to be fine.” You assure him, or maybe yourself as you slip on your heels and head towards the front door.

“Y/N you can come over here and we can hang out. I’ll make you tea and we can talk and watch those romance movies you love. You don’t need to sneak into this party you don’t need to make Taehyung jealous he is so not worth it and if he can’t see your worth he’s trash in my eyes, and Hoseok I mean you hate him. Hate him down to his bones and you want to take a chance running into him. Please this is a bad idea. Taehyung is not worth it.” Namjoon pleads over the phone.

“See ya Joon. I’ll keep you up to date.” You say as you hang up and slip your phone in your beaded bag.

Time to show Kim Taehyung what he is missing out on.

Jung Hoseok lives across town so you lean your head against the car window as it navigates the busy Friday night streets.

You can feel your phone vibrating in your beaded bag but you don’t bother to take it out, you know it’s Namjoon trying to talk you out of going to this party.

He just doesn’t understand.

You met Taehyung at a coffee shop. You had just gotten your laptop out and were setting up to work when he approached your table.

He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen, with dark hair that fell over his eyes and a shy boxy smile.

He apologized for intruding but the seat across from you was the only one left and he really wanted to get some work done.

The table was big enough for two so you introduced yourself and let him share your table. He seemed shy and quiet which you didn’t mind and after only an hour of work, you found your eyes drawn over the top of your computer to his handsome face which was screwed up in concentration.

He caught you and you both blushed, he gave up work to chat with you and give you his number.

He seemed so nice in the beginning, and the first date you had was lovely but after, that radio silence.

He seemed to disappear off the face of the planet and even though it was just one date you felt crushed that it didn’t work out or go further.

No matter how many times Namjoon had told you Taehyung was trash, even asking around to find out that he ghosted people quite often and it was a regular thing, your heart couldn’t let go of the shy cute boy in the cafe.

So when you heard about this party and knew that Taehyung was a close friend of your enemy Jung Hoseok you jumped at the chance to make him see what he was missing out on, to make him jealous and overall make him wish he didn’t ghost you.

As for Jung Hoseok, well he was just a know-it-all stuck-up douchebag. You shared some of the same friends so he always seemed to just…be around. You got along like Fire and Gasolene and both of you were not afraid to have full-blown arguments in front of anyone and everyone. Namjoon had to drag you away a couple of times when the fight got too heated.

Hoesok thought you were too stuck up and prissy, you thought he was a know-it-all with too big of an ego. There was no catalyst, no driving force you both just hated each other from day one.

Namjoon was right though, sneaking into a party, especially Jung Hoseoks's party was a bad idea, you knew it was, but you couldn’t help yourself, knowing that it would be a chance for you to see Taehyung again.

The party was in full swing by the time your cab dropped you off at the curb. You handed him some money and straightened yourself out as he pulled away leaving you standing on the sidewalks in the dark, the only sounds coming from the giant house in front of you.

Another reason you hated Hoseok, he was rich, filthy rich, and liked to flaunt it by throwing grand parties and plastering it all over his social media.

Not that you followed him on social media, you just happened to look a couple of times.

You held your bag close to your body as you walked up to the front door, your heart was hammering in your chest, and you grabbed for the knob to turn it and swing the door open.

You were met with strobe lights and blasting music, the smell of sweat, sex, and weed permeated the air as you stepped over the threshold and clutched your bag.

You hunched over trying to make yourself small as you navigated the packed house trying your best to find Taehyung before Hoseok found you.

The living room was tightly packed with people as you tried to nudge your way in, the kitchen was even worse and as you stood on your tiptoes to search for a mop of dark hair you got nudged and pushed into the wall.

You rubbed your sore arm but the person who nudged you didn’t seem to care, just as soon as they hit you they were swallowed by the crowd.

You had to find Taehyung but navigating this crowd was almost impossible.

You finally pushed and nudged yourself into the kitchen and poured yourself a drink trying to calm your nerves, with all the people you were starting to feel claustrophobic.

You feel a hand on your arm and you flinch when you look up to see Park Jimin staring down at you, his eyes glassy and gaze unfocused.

“Hey Y/N didn’t know you’d be here tonight.” He slurs, breath fanning your face reeking of booze.

You cringe

“Yeah well, it was kind of a last-minute decision.” You reply trying to inch away from him.

Park Jimin was one of Taehyung’s closest friends and was known to be a total fuck boy. Even the way he was looking at you right now made you feel like he was undressing you with his eyes.

You wanted to get away from him as soon as possible and keep searching the party. You’d never tell Jimin that you were looking for Taehyung, he would probably just laugh in your face.

“Mhmm, you should come dance with me.” He slurs as his hands grab for your hips. You try to push him off of you but he has you backed against a wall.

“No, I’m good I’m not much of a dancer” You reply almost yelling at him over the beat of the new song that is playing.

“So yes you will?” He shouts as he leans in, breath fanning over your cheeks as you put your hands on his chest to try to push him away.

“No Jimin. No, thank you!” You shout as the music seems to get louder, or maybe that is the blood pounding in your ears.

You fist your hands into his shirt and try to push him away but he is strong.

“Come dance with me Y/N you look so fucking hot tonight.” He growls in your ear, hands roaming your hips.

You gasp for air trying to make eye contact with someone, anyone in the kitchen to come save you. Your hands grab Jimin’s to keep them from inching further up your naked legs as you try to push him off of you.

Panic sets in when he doesn’t stop and starts to grind his bulge against you. You are trying your best to get him off of you, begging him to leave you alone.

You want to shout out for Taehyung to help you, for Namjoon who is on the other side of town to help you, for someone, anyone, to push Jimin off of you.

Right as you close your eyes and steady yourself to give him a huge shove a hand comes up to his shoulder and peels him off of you.

Your eyes snap open and you stare at Jimin who is unsteady on his feet, grabbing the table he nearly got flung into for support.

You look up to your savor, appreciation dies on your lips when you see it is Jung Hoseok, staring you down as if you are dirt under his newest pair of shoes.

Well fuck.

“Park Jimin go drink some water you drunk fuck and if I catch you doing this to anyone else at this party I will chop your balls off. Understand?” Hoseok barks out as he continues to stare you down.

“Relax Hobi I was just having some fun,” Jimin grumbles as he rubs at his side where it hit the table.

You are still plastered against the wall panic still rising in your throat as Hoseok breaks your gaze to stare at Jimin in disgust.

“As I said I will chop your balls clean off your body if you do that again. If someone says no they mean no Jimin. Now get out of here.” Hoseok demands as Jimin shoots him a dirty look and leaves the kitchen getting swallowed up by the crowd

You swallow hard when Hoseok’s narrowed eyes land on you. You have never felt intimidated by him but something about him staring you down left all the insults you wanted to shout at him dead on your tongue.

“Well, well, well. Sneaking into a party you were most definitely not invited to, trying to hide in the crowd so I don’t spot you then needing me to come save you. Ironic huh? The one person you didn’t want to see saved your ass.'“ He coos at you as you finally peel yourself from the wall and stare him down.

"I think the words you are looking for are Thank You.” He says with a sly smirk which has your blood boiling.

“I was fine. I didn’t need your help.” You spit at him staring him down, heart racing in your chest.

“Believe me love, Park Jimin wouldn’t have stopped unless I peeled his sorry ass off of you. A simple thank you won’t kill you.” His eyes roam your body “Or maybe it will, don’t think I’ve ever heard you say those words.”

You grit your teeth wishing you had a drink in your hand so you could throw it at his beautiful face.

“Whatever Hoseok. I’m not here to fight you anyway. Or here for stupid Park Jimin to grope me.” You say gaze leaving his so you can scan the crowd some more, eyes still not seeing that mess of brown hair that belongs to Taehyung.

“Well seeing as you snuck into this party I can only assume you didn’t want to see me at all. You’re here for Kim Taehyung aren’t you?” He says with a quirk of his eyebrow as your mouth drops.

He throws back his head and laughs and you want to hit him, your cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“So predictable.” He purrs as your hands bawl into fists at your side. You really hope Namjoon was kidding about not breaking you out of jail because you feel very close to punching Hoseok right in the mouth.

“Shut up Hoseok you don’t know anything.” You say shooting him a death glare as you cross your arms over your chest and try to look intimidating, which doesn’t work because you are a whole head shorter than him even in heels.

“Oh, I know plenty of things.” He comments, his eyes sparkling as they lock with yours.

“I know how he went on a date with you. Ghosted you. And how he came to this party with some blonde chick hanging all over him. I saw them maybe twenty minutes ago. Looked like they were headed outside.” He says leaning in, his eyes wander your body again and you shiver.

“And I can only assume Kim Namjoon is around here somewhere, asshole couldn’t even pull Jimin off you so I had to?”

You swallow hard.

“No, he stayed home tonight. Just me here.” You respond

“Good choice. I always thought he was smart.” Hoseok says as someone bumps into him, sending him nearly crashing into you if he didn’t hold onto the wall above your head.

Your eyes flit up to meet his, his breath is warm on your face and every fiber of your being is confused between wanting to kiss him and wanting to run far far away from him.

“How do I know you're not lying to me.” You whisper as you feel his body press into yours further.

“I could be. Or maybe I’m not. How many laps around my house are you going to do before you realize I’m right? Wow, two thank yous in one night. I think you might collapse under the pressure.” He teases as he pushes away from the wall giving you space to breathe.

You aren’t sure what to say. Or how to feel. The only thing you know is you should get out of here. Now. You have embarrassed yourself enough for one night and you knew in your heart that Hoseok would never let you live it down.

Your eyes flit to his heart-shaped mouth and you swallow.

For a brief instant, you wonder what they would feel like pressed against yours and that’s when you know it’s time to leave. You are completely sober wanting Jung Hoseok to kiss you. Times up, games over, time to leave.

You push yourself off the wall and try to move past him but his hand is quick on your hip pulling you back as you growl at him in frustration.

“And where do you think you're going?” He coos, long fingers keeping you in place.

“I’m leaving. You don’t want me here anyway. Goodbye.” You grit out clenching your teeth.

“What and I don’t get my thank yous? Seems kind of harsh. I was a gentleman tonight after all. Your knight in shining armor if you will.” He teases as his one hand runs down the front of his black shirt, puffing out his chest to you.

“You're no better than Park Jimin holding me here against the wall.” You bite back trying once again to push past him only to be blocked.

“Park Jimin doesn’t take no for an answer. I do. Just say the word and I’m gone.” He growls as his lips come down to ghost your neck and you shiver.

What the fuck is going on.

You hate Jung Hoseok with every fiber of your being.

You have hated him since you first lay eyes on him

So why did you feel so turned on, and flustered at him pining you against a wall?

You could say no.

You could walk away.

You could get a cab and go to Namjoon’s and cry into his arms about how Taehyung clearly moved on.

But you didn’t do any of those things

You didn’t want to do any of those things.

Something about fighting with Hoseok set off a fire in you that you weren’t sure how to extinguish but you knew you needed more.

“Do you ever shut up?” You fight back weakly as his lips curl into a devilish smile.

“Ah, so instead of saying thank you we are playing the insult game.” He says voice low as he dips his head down to ghost his lips over the shell of your ear.

Even in the warm kitchen you shiver and you feel him grin.

“Hoseok.” You almost whine out closing your eyes and hating the way you sound, so broken, so desperate for a man you can’t stand.

“Shall we do a lap and see if we can find your precious Taehyung? I know all the best hiding spots. This is my house after all.” He purrs in your ear.

Taehyung

Right

That’s why you were here.

“You said he was gone.” You whisper as people walk by unaware of the turmoil going on in your mind.

You aren’t sure if you want to kiss him or hit him but you need to keep him talking until you figure it out.

“Ah, so you did believe me?” He teases, letting his hand that is resting on your hip play with the hem of your shirt.

You suck in a breath.

“I don’t know what to believe, You are a dick after all. Isn’t this all just a game to you?” You ask trying to keep your voice steady when his long fingers slip under your shirt to play with your heated skin.

“Maybe? Maybe not. That’s for you to decide. This is my house. My party. And I graciously pulled Jimin off of you and made sure you were okay. That doesn’t seem like dick behavior to me.” He teases as his hand traces your skin higher. You arch into his touch and he chuckles low and dark in your ear.

His hands continue to move higher and any insult you want to throw back at him leaves your brain. You can’t think, can’t focus when his fingers touch you like that

His long fingers graze the bottom of your bralette making you gasp and shiver as he chuckles darkly in your ear.

Just as you are about to say something, do something a hand taps his shoulder and Hoseok whips around to see Jungkook standing there blushing wildly and looking like he wants to be anywhere else.

“Sorry, Hyung you said to come get you if something happened. Someone broke a vase upstairs there’s glass all over the floor. I’ll clean it I just want to know where your stuff is?” He asks timidly as his big brown eyes land on you and he shyly smiles.

“It’s fine Kook I’ll clean it myself.” He says pushing away from you as you feel air start to enter your lungs again.

Hoseok turns to you and you can finally take him in, how wild he looks, how his eyes are dark clouded with lust, and how his tongue darts out to lick at his lips.

You feel your legs tremble from his look alone.

“Upstairs, turn right last door on the right. Or leave. Your choice.” He says to you shooting you a wink and looping an arm around Jungkook as he heads off to find cleaning supplies.

Your heart is hammering in your chest, your pussy is throbbing and soaking wet and you can’t seem to catch your breath

What the fuck

What the actual fuck.

You push your way out of the kitchen and head to the backyard where a group of people seem to be milling about and smoking.

You stay far away from them and tuck yourself into a small secluded area as you take several deep breaths and try to calm down.

You don’t like Hoseok

There is no way you do, no way you can.

But there was something about him tonight that was so attractive it made you feel things that you most definitely thought you’d never. Ever. Feel for him

You take your time staring up at the sky and catching your breath when you hear a high-pitched giggle echo over the backyard.

You snap your head up to see Kim Taehyung holding the hand of some blonde girl and pushing her up against the side of the house. You watch as his lips find her neck and he peppers kisses down them, her little squeals and moans echoing throughout the yard though neither of them seem to care they have an audience.

You feel your throat tighten and your chest ache.

Namjoon was right Taehyung wasn’t thinking about you and he totally wasn’t worth it.

And the worst part of it all had nothing to do with Taehyung.

It was the fact that Jung Hoseok was right. Taehyung did come here with someone else.

You push yourself from your hiding place and head across the yard to go find Hoseok. You are not sure why you need to see him, you could leave right now and forget this whole thing but something inside you is telling you to find him. Maybe it’s all the emotion swirling inside you ready to explode, maybe you just want to fight someone to get all this anger, frustration, and sorrow out.

Either way, you make your way across the yard, the blood pounding in your ears deafens the moans the girl is letting out when Taehyung grinds himself into her.

He doesn’t even notice you crossing the yard, not that it matters anymore.

You make your way back into the house pushing past the crowd of people as you make your way up the stairs. You turn right and stare at the last door on the right, heart hammering wildly in your chest as you approach it.

You knock and without warning you let yourself in.

The room is massive with a huge king-sized bed in the middle. You’d take a second to appreciate the decor if your eyes weren’t so focused on the man sprawled out on the bed, face illuminated by the soft overhead lighting, long fingers scrolling his phone.

His eyes snap up to yours and he sends you a devilish grin that has your toes curling as he throws his phone to the side and you step through the doorway to slam the door closed muffling the party below.

He sits up on the bed and parts his legs, spreading them wide as you walk up to him.

You stand proud between his spread legs as he looks up at you, taking his time to push his hair back from his face.

“I’m only going to say this once so you better listen close. Thank you for saving me from Jimin. Thank you for not lying to me about Taehyung. I saw him. He’s here.” You grit out keeping your hands bawled into fists at your side.

“And you're still standing and haven’t been turned to dust by those thank yous. I’m surprised.” He teases as you frown at him.

“I think the words you are looking for are you’re welcome.” You tease back as he grins at you.

There is a strange silence that hangs in the air. You said all you needed to and had every intention of turning around and storming out, but something was holding you in place maybe it was Hoseok’s intense gaze.

“So you saw him then?” He asks softly, all the bite in his voice gone.

You nod your head feeling too exhausted to fight

“Did you…talk to him?” Hoseok asks and you are surprised at his question. All the two of you ever did was argue and fight, this was the first normal conversation you had with him in ages.

“No, I did not.” You say avoiding looking at him, instead finally taking in the decor of the room as a welcome distraction.

“You came all this way, snuck into a party you were not invited to, and tried to avoid me only to find him and not talk to him. Y/N you aren’t a coward I know that for sure.” He teases.

“He was preoccupied with someone else.” You say trying your best to avoid his gaze.

His hands come out to hold your wrists and he runs his thumbs over your palm in soothing circles.

“When he told me about the date I warned him to stay away from you. He’s my friend but I also know what he has a habit of doing. He didn’t believe me. Thought I was saying that because of how…we are. I’m sorry Y/N you must have been excited about him to go through all this trouble.” He says as you stare down at him in shock.

“Why are you acting like you care all of a sudden?” You ask flinching out of his grasp. This is all too much, this isn’t how it is with Hoseok and it’s throwing you off.

“Maybe because I do care? Ever thought of that.” He bites out standing from the bed as you cower under his intense gaze.

“N-No you don’t… don’t lie to me Hoseok.” You spit out feeling off-kilter at the new information.

Hoseok advances towards you until you are flushed up against the door. His hands come to rest above your head and he looks down at you with such anger in his features it makes you shiver.

“Like I lied about Kim Taehyung being here? Like I lied about who he came with? You keep painting me as a villain so I became your villain.” He growls in your ear.

You gasp when he slots his knee in between your legs and grinds it against your aching core, your skirt rides up and your flimsy underwear does nothing to hide your arousal as you grip his shirt for support.

“You know what. I’m going to lay it all out and well… you already hate me so it can’t get worse right?” He mutters as he pushes his knee harder into your core making you let out a high-pitched whine.

“You think I like arguing with you? Fighting with you? Do you think I like that I can’t have a normal conversation with you? I do it because it gets your attention. It’s a shit way to do it but you always have guys surrounding you, talking to you, complimenting you. And I can’t compete with that. So I get you angry, make you feel things so you keep your eyes on me. I’ve liked you for so long and you never wanted to give me a chance but if I get you mad… I get you. It’s shit I know I’m not proud of it. But it works. You came to this party for Taehyung but you're soaking wet right now for me and me only.” He growls as you arch your head back when one of his hands leaves the wall to trace down your side.

“You-hold on… you like me?” You breathe out as your head feels dizzy and you stare at his handsome face.

“God I’ve liked you for ages.” He whispers breath hot on your neck as he leans down and presses a soft sweet kiss to your exposed neck making you shiver and grip his shirt for dear life.

"Hobi.” You whine out as his eyes snap to yours.

You have never called him that before. It was always Hoseok.

“Use your words. Tell me?” He asks voice strained as he continues to apply pressure to your clit.

“Please I can’t- I-.” You say breathlessly as you push him away trying to regain breath.

Hobi backs away and shoots you a dejected look as he stares at the floor, hair falling in front of his beautiful face.

Before you can speak, or explain he points to the door.

“You should go.” He mutters as he turns his back to you and flops back down on the bed.

You watch as he flops down and buries his face in the pillows. He looks so dejected and sad and your head is still spinning trying to process it all. He likes you. He confessed to liking you. No matter how much you thought you didn’t like him you can’t leave him like this.

You silently walk over and sit down on the bed, your hand comes out to rub soothing circles on his back.

He looks over to see you are still there and he slowly sits up.

“You can go. Don’t feel guilty and want to stay. You pushed me away. You don’t like me back. I get it.” He rambles fiddling with the bedspread not looking at you.

“Hobi. I just… I didn’t mean to give you that impression it’s just hard to think when you were pressing your knee into me like that. My body and brain couldn’t function.” You say with a small smile as his eyes finally snap up to yours.

“Let’s go back a bit. You like me?” You ask as he whines and covers his face with his hands.

“You don’t like me back. I get it. Don’t make me admit it again.” He says voice small and vulnerable as you grab his wrists to pull his hands away from his face.

“I never said I didn’t.”

His eyes widen.

“I came here for Taehyung but in the kitchen… I wanted to kiss you. I made you angry, I kept you talking because I wanted to buy myself more time so I could figure my feelings out. I’ve never thought about kissing you before.” You admit as he buries his face behind his hands and groans.

“Well, thanks that’s promising.” He responds as you pull him in for a hug trying to comfort him.

“Hobi you have liked me for a while and had tons of time to process your feelings. I haven’t. Two hours ago I thought I hated you.” You admit as he pulls out of your hug to stare at you.

“And now? How do you feel now?” He asks.

“Like I still really want to know what your lips taste like.” You say shyly

Hobi jumps up from the bed and for a second you wonder if you scared him off but he goes over to lock his bedroom door and races back to the bed.

“Can I kiss you Y/N?” He whispers breath hot against your face as he kneels on the floor before you.

You look down at him, his handsome face, eyes blown wide and you nod.

You place your hands on his shoulders for support and lean in as Hobi wastes no time pressing his lips into yours. His lips are soft and sweet and he takes his time with you, his tenderness surprising you as he keeps his hands respectfully on the bed.

You push your lips into his deepening the kiss and tangle your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck which causes a low groan to fall from his mouth.

You gasp and pull away as he stares up at you through heavy lids.

“Fuck Hobi.” You mutter, eyes flicking down to his lips which are slightly red from kissing, and when you look further down you can see a sizeable bulge tenting the front of his black pants.

“You are so hot when you moan.” You admit as he wastes no time and stands up to push you down on the bed. He crawls on top of you as you giggle and he is once again kissing you. His hands hold him up so he doesn’t crush you and his body flush against yours.

You can feel everything.

His lips which are soft but firm against yours, his hair which is tickling your face, his chest which presses against yours with such a delicious pressure it makes your nipples harden, and his cock, hard and straining against his pants as he pushes it into your thigh.

He grinds slowly against you as he continues to kiss your lips.

You moan and whine as he rolls to his side and drags you with him, tangling his free hand in your hair as he does so.

He continues to rut against your hip and your hands run down the front of his shirt, slipping under the expensive material to feel his bare heated skin on your palms.

“Fuck Y/N Fuck.” He moans out when your hands run over his nipples.

You grin.

You both pull away from the kiss and stare at each other breathing heavily and taking it all in.

“Wow.” You whisper.

“How do you…feel now?” He asks timidly and the blush that covers his cheeks is so cute it makes you grin.

“Like I want to kiss you again and again. And maybe do more.” You say and instantly he is on top of you again, kissing your lips and grinding his hard cock into your core.

You scratch at his back as you arch up to meet his hungry lips, your body rolling against his to relieve the ache between your legs that seems to be growing by the minute.

“You're so hot. Fuck you are so hot. Taehyung fucked up real bad ghosting you. Fuck.” Hobi whines out as he places kisses on your cheeks and moves down your neck to suck a harsh mark that has a broken moan falling from your parted lips.

His hands come down to the hem of your shirt and he pulls it over your head and throws it somewhere in the room. His dark eyes widen when he takes in your dark bralette that is covered with delicate lace and his hands run up and down your stomach as you shamelessly grind into him.

“Please Ho-bi please.” You whine out as he rolls you both over so you are now straddling him. His hands effortlessly unclasp your bra and throw it as you can hear the bass bumping downstairs as the party continues, oblivious to what the host is doing right now.

His large fingers cup your breasts and when he flicks his thumbs over your nipples you grind down harder on his cock. He clenches his teeth as he squeezes your breasts massaging them in his large hands and making you arch your back, pushing yourself harder into his length.

“Fuck you know how long I have dreamed of this. Having you under me, or on top of me. Fuck.”

Hobi’s hands grab your thighs to part them further as you sit up a bit and he drags his knuckles between your wet folds, feeling how you have soaked through your underwear.

You let out a broken moan and he grins wickedly.

“Though you have been bad today. Acting like a fucking brat in the kitchen. I’m not going to let you get away with that so easily. Kneel on the bed ass up face down. Time for your punishment Princess.” He says forcefully pushing you off of him as you stare at him in shock.

“Come on now we don’t have all night.” He says tapping your thigh which has you scrambling to get in position for him.

“Good girl. Knew you could behave.” He growls as his hands lift your skirt and you bury your face in the pillows shivering in anticipation.

“I’m thinking Five Spanks because you have been a fucking brat for the five years I’ve known you.”

You nod as you bury your face further into the pillows and blankets and when the first spank hits you feel the zing all the way down to your curled toes.

Your ass is on fire and Hobi is chuckling darkly behind you as he massages the red flesh of your ass.

“One.”

The next three come one after the other and you are whining and crying on the bed. You try to squeeze your legs together to help with the ache.

“One more baby girl. One more.” He says as he lines up and spanks you hard. Your head falls into the mattress and his name falls like a prayer from your lips.

You can feel your arousal leaking down your pussy and without warning Hobi scoots on the bed and opens your legs harshly as he licks you up.

You cry out his name as he pulls your asscheeks apart to get better access to your dripping pussy and he licks your slit, dancing his tongue along making your stomach clench and your thighs tense up.

“Ho-Hobi fuck fuck!” You cry out as he licks and sucks at your clit. You flutter your eyes closed and let the prettiest whines and moans fall from your mouth. He is too good at that and is bringing you to the edge closer than you would like to be.

“Ho-Hobi gotta stop I’m gonna-please fuck.” You babble out as he lifts his head and softly kisses the red handprints on your ass.

“You got me too close. Fuck Hobi your mouth. Wow.” You say turning over to lay on your back as you stare at him slowly standing up and taking off his shirt.

Your eyes are met with miles of toned beautiful skin and when he undoes his pants with nimble fingers you are gasping. He pulls them down and you can see his hard cock straining against his boxers.

You scoot to the end of the bed and press soft kisses to his bare skin. Your lips start at his sternum and work down his body as his hands tangle in your hair. You take your time savoring his skin as you kiss down until your lips are right at the waistband of his boxers.

You bring your lips to his hipbone sucking the skin there as your hand moves to cup his impressive bulge.

Hobi lets out a whine as you begin to dance your fingers along his shaft and finally pull his boxers down as his length smacks your cheek.

“Fuck that’s so hot holy shit,” Hobi grits out as his fingers grab the base of his cock harshly and you look up at him through your lashes.

“Gonna cum already? Wow Hoseok.” You taunt him as his eyes grow dark and he grabs your arm harshly and forces you to kneel on the bed.

“Such a fucking brat Y/N I thought I’d be gentle with you but I think you prefer being manhandled huh? Is that why you fought me so much, you secretly got off on it?” He asks as he leaves you there to rifle through his room to find a condom.

“I think you get off on it Hoseok. Spanking me and eating my pussy nearly made you cum. I hardly touched you and you're ready to blow your load.” You shoot back as he tears open the condom packet and rolls it down his impressive length.

“You know how many times I’d be done arguing with you and having a raging hard-on after. I’d jerk myself off thinking about putting you in your place. Shutting you up with my cock in your mouth or in your pussy. I think you like the fire, like the danger. I think you like being put in your place as much as I like putting you in your place.” Hoseok says as he kisses you harshly.

This kiss was completely different than the soft slow ones earlier, this was all teeth and tongue and roughness as he forced his tongue into your mouth.

His right-hand wanders down your body and he harshly rubs your clit which has you moaning into his mouth as he works you hard and fast, not giving you a second to recover as he kisses you with such force it nearly throws you back on the bed.

“What do you want Y/N… tell me.” He growls out as his hand continues to speed up on your clit causing broken moans to fall from your mouth as you bury your head into his shoulder.

You can’t think

Can’t breathe

Can’t concentrate

He plunges two fingers into your pussy and begins to scissor them harshly as you cry out against the bare skin of his shoulder.

He is saying things to you but you can hardly hear them over the music downstairs and the blood pumping in your ears.

You are close

So close to cumming all over his fingers.

Your hand reaches out to grab his bicep for support as you feel your whole body spasm, you are so close and the way his skilled fingers are moving you know you are going to cum soon.

Hoseok must feel it because right as you are on the edge he pulls back and you stare up at him in shock and anger as he takes his time licking his fingers clean.

“Hoseok what the fuck I was close you jerk!” You cry out as he smirks at you.

“I said use your words. What. Do. You. Want.” He says popping his fingers out of his mouth and staring you down with a heated gaze.

You go to reach for his cock, to give him the same treatment he gave you but he’s too quick and he swats your hand away.

“Again use your words. You never had any trouble telling me off before. Now tell me what you want.” He goads looking way too smug.

“You know what I want.” You fight back.

“Do I?” He challenges.

“Yes, you do.” You challenge back.

“God I love it when you are feisty. Makes me so fucking hard.” He says circling his hand around his cock and lazily pumping it.

You can’t tear your eyes away from him jerking his cock in front of you as you feel your arousal coat your thighs.

“Still not hearing the words I want. I could just stand here and jerk myself off and watch you suffer.” he teases as you grit your teeth.

“Wasn’t thanking you twice tonight enough.” You snap back as he throws his head back and laughs.

“Nah I want to hear it. Want to hear you beg me for my cock.” He says stepping forward to line his cockhead up with your folds.

He runs it up and down your slit letting your arousal coat him and you throw your head back and whine.

“Hoseok. Please.” You beg him grinding your hips down.

“God I love when you call me Hoseok. So fucking sexy.” He says still running his cockhead through your folds.

“Hoseok, please. Please fuck me.” You finally break as he smirks and grabs your body to push you down on the bed.

Face down ass up.

You bury your face once again in the messed up sheets as he kneels on the bed and spreads you open, taking his time teasing your pussy with his cockhead before slipping inside.

You cry out his name as he takes his time inching inside of you.

Once he bottoms out he rubs soft circles on your hips as you squeeze your eyes shut and try to take slow deep breaths to relax against his girth.

“Fuck you are so tight around me.” He says as he leans forward to press soft kisses along your spine.

You slowly roll your hips to adjust to his size and once the sting subsides you start to fuck yourself back against his cock which causes him to squeeze your hips.

“How are you holding up? Is it okay if I move?” He asks softly tracing patterns on your back.

“Hoseok fuck me. Please.” You cry out.

You can hear him snicker above you and right as his hips are about to move someone knocks on the door.

You freeze, eyes blown wide and heart hammering as Hoseok stills his movements, cock still inside of you.

“Hobi Hyung!” Comes a voice you recognize a little bit too well and you turn your head back to see Hoseok’s shocked face.

Taehyung is at the door knocking, while Hoseok is balls deep inside of you.

“Want to show him what he’s missing.” Hoseok growls and before you can answer he starts to fuck into you roughly.

You can’t help but cry out his name as you grip the sheets and feel his hard cock slide in and out of your pussy.

He delivers a light spank to your ass which has you shamelessly moaning loud enough for Taehyung to hear.

“Fuck Y/N you feel so good!” Hoseok moans out and you try to bite back your grin as you know for a fact Taehyung must have heard.

You can’t focus on Taehyung when Hoseok is ramming into you like his life depends on it so you continue to moan and cry out on the bed not caring if anyone could hear you or not.

Your stomach starts to tense and you can feel yourself getting close again.

Hoseok must realize because he angles his hips and starts to pound into your g-spot repeatedly causing your eyes to flutter closed and your hands to close around the bedsheets aggressively.

“Hoseok. Please. Don’t stop. Please.” You beg as he grabs your hips and forces you to fuck yourself back on his cock.

“Come on beautiful show that asshole what he missed out on. God this pussy is heaven I can’t wait to fuck you over and over and over. The only pussy I want to be buried in. Cum for me beautiful. Cum around my cock” Hoseok demands and you lose it.

You arch your back and cry out his name as you throw your head back. Your orgasm washes over you like waves and your pussy clenches tightly around his cock.

Hoseok hisses behind you as he continues to fuck into you but soon enough you feel him spill into the condom with a cry of your name.

You finally come down from your high as he pulls out of you and you flop down on your stomach and breathe deeply, feeling fuzzy but happy as you breathe in the scent of him all over the sheets.

You feel Hoseok move from the bed and return with a warm towel.

He takes his time spreading your cheeks to clean the mess of your pussy and you sigh happily when he throws the towel in the room and climbs into bed with you, laying on his side so he can look at your face.

“Wow, Hobi. Wow.” You whisper as you push stray hairs away from his face.

“I think this is the first time we agree on something.” He teases as you lightly smack his arm

“I don’t want to fight with you anymore.” You admit. “And I’m sorry for all the times I did.”

He softly smiles at you and kisses both your cheeks.

“Me too.” He agrees lacing his fingers with yours.

“Can I take you on a date sometime this week? Maybe get to know you without all the arguing?” He says softly kissing your knuckles which makes you giggle.

“Of course Hobi.”

You lay there taking each other in for a while before you both remember there is a party going on downstairs and you should probably rejoin it.

You take your time redressing, stealing glances at each other as you adjust your clothes.

A knock at the door makes you both look up.

“Hobi hyung! It’s important!” You hear Taehyung call and you smirk as Hobi laces his fingers through yours and throws the door open.

You both are clearly still disheveled and Tae’s mouth drops when he takes in the sight of you both, you purposely throw your hair back to show off the mark he sucked into your skin.

“Um.” He says eyes flicking between the both of you, jaw dropped.

“My-my date threw up and I want to know how to clean it?” He asks eyes narrowing in on the mark on your neck and shoulder.

You giggle.

“Hey Tae long time no see!” You say to him as he blushes under your gaze.

“The laundry room in the basement has everything you need. You can clean it I’m not your babysitter you know.” Hobi says as he pushes past Taehyung dragging you with him as you hide your giddy giggles behind your hands.

“Also please don’t ghost this one. It’s super embarrassing for you to keep doing that. You keep missing out on all of these amazing women because you're scared to commit.” Hobi throws over his shoulder as you bury your giggles in his arm and head back down to the party

[wonderlandwalker]

One Day at a Time | Finnick Odair x Reader

Previous Part / THG Masterlist / Inbox

Summary: a short collection of sweet moments shared between you and Finnick as you recover, reminding the both of you of the love you share

(part 4 of the remember series but could also be read on its own I think, you can find the other parts in my masterlist)

Content Warnings / Tags: Fluff, no use of y/n, mentions of punching, I really think that's it.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: It's finally here! Sorry it took so long my only excuse is that I am an absolute mess of a human being which is a terrible one but oh well. This will be the final part of the series, hope the fluff makes up for all the heartbreak I've put you through <3

It's been a week now, one week of blissful moments spend with Finnick while recovering from the attack within district 13. After all that had happened you were in need of some peace, and the universe granted it.

On the first day you were still in the hospital wing, an IV dripping steady fluids into your system. You woke up to Finnick sitting next to you, one of his hands holding onto yours while the other was holding up a book. It was one of your favourites, and you had been pestering him about reading it so you could talk about it with him, but he had always brushed you off, saying he'd get around to it eventually. It seems eventually finally came around. You coaxed him into getting in the bed with you, he was hesitant at first, not wanting to hurt you, but he wasn't above your charms either, your eyes pleading with him in a way he couldn't resist. He had settled in behind you, letting you lean against him, ignoring the dirty look the nurse gave you. You had asked him to read to you, and even though you already knew it by heart, his sweet voice added a whole new element to the story so beloved.

The second day was spent trying to convince the nurse to let you leave the hospital room, if only for a few hours, she didn't initially want to agree, but Finnick simply wouldn't drop the subject. So you walked together towards the dinner hall, feeling like little children sneaking out past the curfew.

Supper had already finished, but Finnick was friends with one of the cooks who let him into the kitchens. He told you to sit down on the table in the middle of the room and gave you a quick peck on the lips before moving over to the fridge. It was simple, it wasn't much, but it was perfect. He would let you taste the dish in-between steps, always forgetting one ingredient or another, but you didn't mind reminding him. At some point you could have sworn he was doing it on purpose, but maybe he was just too caught up in having you there with him again. You offered to help with meting the butter, dicing the vegetables, stirring the sauce, but each and every time he would insist you stayed right where you were, accentuated with a quick kiss, his hands on your face smearing flour all over your jaw, not that you minded. He claimed he was the better cook anyway, that you'd only hold him back, now that one you both knew was a lie, but it was a precious one, one that didn't need to be disturbed.

Day three consisted of a slow day back in your room, having been cleared by the doctor and finally being in your own space again. You and Finnick hadn't shared a room in a while now with everything that had gone down, but you had immediately decided to spend your nights together again, not wanting to spend more time apart than necessary. You hadn't fully recovered yet, still needing your rest, but Finnick had set his mind on moving your things back into his room today.

So there you were, sitting crossed legged on his bed absentmindedly sipping on some coffee he had brought you as you watched him bustle about. He was only gone a few minutes at a time, but you never failed to produce a smile when you saw him approaching again, hands full with some of your books, the collection of flowers he had given you over the years that you had dried and pressed in-between the pages were sticking out slightly, but he handled them with care. Even while you weren't together you couldn't find it ins yourself to get rid of them, and you're glad of it now. He goes back and forth for a while, collecting your pillow, your skin care products, your small radio that barely managed to get a reception down here, but you couldn't bare to part with. Each time he'd ask you where you wanted him to put it down, carefully creating a space that consisted of the both of you.

On day four you had finally woken up in his arms again, wondering how you could have ever forgotten this feeling. When he noticed you were awake he had moved to place a delicate kiss on your lips, basking in the simplicity of the fact that he could. He had told you he had a surprise for you today, and you couldn't help how giddy you already got from the mere thought of what it could be. But it was oh so much better than you could have imagined, because today Finnick took you to the surface. How he managed to get you past all the checkpoints was beyond you, and when you asked he had simply said he had friends in all the right places.

It was a bit of a walk to the spot he wanted to take you, but you revelled in the sunlight against your face, needing to squint your eyes to see properly with how bright the sun was but too blissed to care. The high grass rustled against your bare legs as you continued to walk, and the tickling sensation brought back so many fond memories. When you finally made it to the clearing it was a sight from a dream. The tree next to the lake provided a shadow you could both comfortably lay in as the smell of the fresh water blessed your senses once more. The wildflowers adorning the space around you were once you could recall from back home, with a few others you couldn't identify. Finnick had picked a few, placing them behind your ear as he talked about what the flower meant. A myosotis, he had called it, representing true love and dedication. He told you about the myth behind the forget-me-nots, how they had been afraid of being forgotten by the gods, and you had vowed in return to never spend a day without thinking of him again.

During the fifth day you didn't do much of anything special, but you supposed that depends on your definition of the word. Finnick had made dandelion tea from flowers he had collected yesterday, the familiar taste bringing back a sense of nostalgia for a time that you wouldn't be able to return to. You had once told him your mother used to make it when you were sick, and ever since he would go collect them by the cliffs for you. You had insisted it was too much work that he didn't need to worry himself with, he had countered that he enjoyed the view where they grew anyway, and really, he was going for himself as much as for you. Maybe he had simply been trying to get you to stop fussing over the subject, maybe it had really been true.

You spend the day talking to your friends, reminiscing in regained memories and filling in gaps that you couldn't on your own. As you sat next to Johanna she talked on about the days Finnick spent longing after you, claiming he was alright wirh being just friends, but she was convinced that if any of her friends looked at her the way he looked at you she would have suckerpunched them.

On the sixth day you had begged Finnick train with you, saying how you wanted to get your strength back, how you missed the exercise and the content feeling of aching muscles. He had been reluctant, of course he had been, but once you had managed to drag him onto the training mat he revelled in it. He couldn't deny he had missed sparring with you, the action so effortless with you. He had made fun of how you threw your punches, saying you had to extent your arms further to complete the motion, but he was the one not protection his core properly while fixating on you. It had been good to feel your body in motion again, he was still stronger than you, knocking the breath out of your lungs once be stopped holding back, but you were still faster, getting the drop on him in the split seconds he was distracted. The manner in which your muscle memory still held up, the way in which you still used the same techniques without meaning to, it was good to know there are some things people can't take from you.

The seventh day you picked your routine back up. Waking up to an empty bed but not lonely, his side was still warm as you rolled over. Once you opened your eyes you saw the cup of coffee and the note on the bedside table. Finnick knew you never slept for long after he left, somehow he still knew. He had been given some time off during your recovery, but district 13 didn't stand still and they had needed his help. You weren't expected back yet, but the sense of purpose was one that you were always glad to have. You drank the coffee he left you as you got dressed, smiling as he had made it exactly to your liking, even if he used to complain you couldn't even call it coffee anymore with that much sugar in it. And so you went back to work, moving to scribble a quick message on the back of the note if he came back looking for you, not that he needed it, somehow he would always know where you were.

In the past week you had learned that a love as great as the one you shared with Finnick could never be forgotten, not really, because no matter how many memories faded, there would always come new ones. And soon, even though you didn't know it yet, Finnick would give you his mother's ring once more, and this time you would remember everything that led you here, and you would remember saying yes.

[remlionheart]

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦ ˚ *

Marinade

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ when i first decided that i wanted to write some yuuji angst, i had a v vague idea in my head of what it might look like, but when i tell you that this fic took me for a ride, i mean it. angel boy yuuji itadori finds himself mourning his 22nd birthday rather than celebrating it. sitting alone at a bar, overwhelmed by grief when he's suddenly greeted by the one part of his past that doesn't hurt to look at. 4.9k words. hurt/comfort, angst, smut, fluff, slice of life, shonen, literally everything and anything going on here. i was crying and smiling and rooting for these characters and i'm not sure that i'll ever emotionally recover from writing this, but i'm really happy w the outcome so lemme know whatcha think, luv you ♡ (also shoutout to my girl @bratbby333 for always being my biggest hype-woman and proofreading for me when i've looked at a fic for too long and start to hate it) *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

now playing: marinade by dope lemon

Yuuji hadn't seen you since middle school.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He remembered you as the girl who had pretty handwriting and a serious affinity for the color blue. The girl who would leave pastel origami hearts on his desk without ever saying why. The girl who'd hide away in the library during lunch instead of eating with the rest of the class. The girl who he'd watch on the bus ride home with a sinking feeling in his stomach, catching the way your eyes glossed over each time the driver stopped in front of your house.

He learned how much you loved to read and write that year. Glancing at you from across the study hall room, secretly jotting down what number was printed along the spine of your book so that he could get you the next one in the series. He'd leave it on your desk before class started, the same way you did with his origami hearts. Never saying a word about it.

He watched you fill countless journals, your face always so concentrated as you poured your thoughts into them. He’d stop by the shopping plaza near his house after school every time he noticed that you’d reached the last page, spending his allowance to make sure there was a new one waiting for you the next morning. Each one he gave you, a different shade of blue.

But it wasn’t until the last day of eighth grade that he finally mustered up the courage to break the not-so-silent-silence the two of you had been sharing for the last 6 months. He sat down next to you, introducing himself even though it went without saying. His eyebrows furrowed a bit when you wordlessly slipped out an earbud and handed it to him. A rare, but visible smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. He held it in his palm for a moment, his eyes drifting along your face as he brought it to his ear, letting the tangled white cord tether the two of you together.

He’d never heard the song before, but he still remembered thinking how fitting it was. Dreamy and melodic - just like you. The singer's voice was full of raw sincerity, adding another layer of atmospheric haze to the already heady beat while the chorus gradually filled the space between you.

He didn't have the right words to explain it at the time, but he felt lucky as he watched you stare out the window that day. Lucky to know how pretty you looked when the sunlight caught the side of your face. Lucky to know which fantasy novels you liked to spend hours losing yourself in. Lucky to know what type of music you listened to when you were deep in thought. Lucky, just to be sitting next to you.

His heart jumped around in his chest when your eyes met his again. Both of you exchanging the same somber smile as you realized what road you were on.

He handed his half of the headphones back to you, secretly relieved at how calm you still seemed despite the fact that your stop was next.

“That song,” he hesitated, the lyrics still swirling through his mind. “what was it –”

But his question came to an abrupt end as the bus began to brake, a new and overwhelming warmth dancing through his veins when he noticed how close you suddenly were to him.

His pupils doubled in size, his breath catching in his throat while you leaned in carefully, pressing the softest kiss against his boyish cheek.

"Have a good summer, Yuuji." you whispered, grabbing your backpack off the floor.

His hand rested where your lips had been, his gaze following you off of the bus. You made it about halfway up your driveway before pausing to look back at him over your shoulder, two lingering smiles blurring past one another as the driver hurried on with her route.

The next two months were filled with sunshine and soccer practice for him. Bike rides and camping trips and basketball courts. His days were usually full, but no matter what he was doing or where he was going, there was one song that was always on the tip of his tongue:

♫⋆｡ ♪ ₊ ﾟ“Do you want me? Just how I am? Do you need me and where I stand?”

One song that would forever remind him of you:

"Let's go steady, let's make a plan. Marinade on that for a little while." ⋆｡ ♪ ₊♬ ﾟ。

And he did.

He marinaded on the infatuation he felt for you the rest of that entire summer.

When August arrived that year and brought everyone back for high school, he was ready.

There were stories he wanted to tell you, questions he wanted to ask you. Playlists he wanted to make with you. Books he'd found while thrifting that he wanted to give to you. Daydreams he had of roaming the halls and laughing with you. Visions of bringing his lunch into the library so he could eat with you. He couldn't wait to hear about your summer. Couldn't wait to catch up with you. Couldn't wait to see you.

Unfortunately for you both though, life had other, much darker plans in store for the pink-haired boy who just wanted to carry around your books for you and hold your hand during passing period.

He was called out of class early on the first day. Forced to leave the building before he even had the chance to see you as he frantically tracked down the nearest shuttle and rushed across town to get to the hospital. His grandpa’s health had been on a slow decline, but after his most recent fall, it had suddenly started to plummet.

Yuuji missed the majority of that week, dedicating all of his time to the man who had essentially raised him. He would bring him food and sit with him for hours even though he was mostly incoherent. He’d tell him about his day and leave flowers by his bedside. He'd watch reruns of old game shows with him that they used to watch when Yuuji was little, completely ignoring the nurses who would say things like, "You need to give yourself a break.”

The hospital staff tried their best to get him to take a day off. To go back to school and live his own life, but Yuuji just couldn’t. His grandpa was the only family he'd ever really had. There was no way he was going to leave him. He ditched the comfort of his bedroom and began sleeping on the cramped hospital futon next to the grey-haired man, teaching himself what each machine hooked up to him was responsible for and what vitals they monitored. He’d sometimes leave throughout the day, but it was only for a couple of hours at most. He'd return with more flowers and books to read to him. By the third week of school, he'd missed almost every single one of his classes, but he didn’t care. His priorities were firm.

Yuuji stayed by his side - day in and day out, until the very end.

When he woke up to the sound of erratic beeping and codes that he didn't understand being called out by nurses, he knew. He knew in his heart that this was it. Amongst the chaos were two sets of shaking hands reaching for each other, his grandpa's last words hanging heavily in the space between them,

“Yuuji... You're a strong kid, try your best to help others, okay?”

He remembered thinking at that moment that there couldn’t be a worse feeling. That he couldn’t possibly have anything else left to lose. He was only 15 and he was now officially all on his own as he watched the only parental figure he had let out his last breath of air.

He had no family, no future, no chance.

Fate was a cruel and calculating thing though. A few days after the funeral, Yuuji discovered that he did have a future. One that was irreversibly sealed the minute he stepped foot into Jujutsu High. He had to let go of everything he'd known in exchange for the damning task of becoming a vessel for Ryomen Sukuna. He had to trade in his mundane role of being a high school freshman for the daunting responsibility of becoming a first-year sorcerer. And arguably the hardest thing of all, he had to give up the simple pleasure of sharing a set of tangled headphones with you to try and save a world that didn't truly care about him.

There was no room for normalcy anymore. This was his new life and it was ending, one day at a time.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He sat at a nearly vacant bar by himself, staring down the empty glass in front of him, watching the ice melt as he ran a shaky hand along the back of his neck.

It was 4 o'clock and he was only one of two people here this early. The lights and music were still being adjusted by the workers. Cups being stocked and coolers being filled for the inevitable Saturday-night rush that would come in the next few hours. His goal was to be absolutely obliterated by then - to already be on his way back home before the swarm of college students took over.

He paused, noticing the calendar hanging by the craft beer list in front of him. His heart stuttered a bit as he blinked back at the date. No wonder he'd been feeling so reminiscent lately.

He leaned over the counter hoping to find the bartender who'd poured his first drink, but to no avail.

He grabbed his glass, sucking down the very last drop of whiskey it had to offer, trying desperately to drown out the realization that today was his 22nd birthday and the people who should be here with him weren't.

Almost every friend he'd made over the last ten years had been ripped away from him. They were scattered memories. Familiar voices that he did his best to hold onto. Faces, names, deaths that followed him everywhere he went.

Middle school and the innocence of just wanting to hold a pretty girl's hand while she walked down the hallway were long gone. He was an adult now. A very tired and traumatized adult.

He peered around the corner again, half-tempted to jump over the bar and pour himself another drink when the stereo kicked on, an overwhelming wave of pure, deep blue nostalgia flooding over him without warning.

His back straightened, his eyes suddenly darting towards the speaker as the lyrics drifted across his skin, causing every hair on his body to stand up at once.

"She wanted to die by a river. She wanted the tide to come up and drag her away, so that when she's dreamin', she can watch the tree line fall away." ⋆｡ ♪

It was the same hazy melody that he'd spent an entire summer listening to on repeat. He still knew every word, every beat. It was muscle memory the way his fingertips began to drum along the counter when a bartender finally emerged from the back.

"Sorry, do you need a –"

Time stilled, the glass nearly slipping from his hand as your gaze caught his.

"Yuuji?"

Despite how much you'd changed since the last time he saw you, your voice was somehow just as soft as he remembered it being.

He stared back at you in quiet disbelief, guilt quickly settling in the pit of his stomach as he thought about how fucking strange and unexpected this all must feel for you too.

From your perspective, he'd spent all of 8th grade trying to befriend you only to up and leave without even saying goodbye. And now, 7 years later - he was at your work, looking back at you like you were an actual angel, and forgetting every word he knew.

Your eyes stayed locked on his for another moment, both of you studying the person in front of you before you finally let out a shaky breath and smiled at him.

"Here," You offered, suddenly feeling the need to soothe your own nerves too. "On the house."

He tried to tell you that he could pay for it, but it was too late. You were already pouring two shots and motioning for him to put his wallet away.

"Okay, fine. But..." There was a glimmer in his eye as he pulled his glass away from yours. "What are we toasting to?"

The smile he gave you felt like a warm hug. One that you didn't realize you needed until you had it again. "Oh," You stammered, trying to ignore the blood that was rushing to your cheeks. "What about... To old friends?"

He nodded, still wearing the same expression as your drinks lightly knocked together. "To old friends."

He couldn't help but grin again at the little shiver that swept across your body as you finished yours.

Your hair was longer, your features a bit more mature, but your mannerisms were all the same. You were still the girl that was made up of mid-day sunlight, handbound books, and shades of blue that were too pretty to exist in this world.

You grabbed a beer out of the cooler and slid it to him, once again ignoring the credit card he tried to hand you. "Yuuji, relax." you leaned against the counter, resting your head in your hands so that you were eye-level with him. "They're not gonna go bankrupt over a $2 IPA, I promise."

"If you say so."  

You both exchanged the same small smile, his finger lightly running along the counter. "So," he cleared his throat, completely unsure of where to start. "How've you been?"

It was a loaded question, maybe even a dumb question considering how much time had passed, but he didn't care. He really did want to know how you'd been. What you'd been up to. What type of things you'd been writing about. What your Spotifty playlists looked like. What you did on your days off. He wanted to know everything. All of it.

"Well," you exhaled, trying to find an easy way to condense the last seven years of your life. "My parents..." your eyebrows furrowed, realizing that you'd never gotten the chance to tell him why you used to dread your old bus route so much. "My parents finally got divorced..."

“Oh shit, I’m sorry -"

“No,” You said swiftly, not wanting him to feel bad for asking. "It was more of a relief than anything. They used to fight, a lot. My mom wasn't always the nicest when she drank... It probably should've happened way sooner to be honest."

His breathing slowed as memories of you with tears in your eyes walking up your driveway smashed through his mind. He'd promised himself that he would ask you about it one day, but he had no idea it'd be this much later on. He'd wanted to talk to you about it as kids. Wanted to know what scared you so much about going home, but he didn't know how. It was the reason why he left journals on your desk. The reason why he never let you go without the next book in your series.

For everything he couldn't say, he tried to show. But he'd failed you on both accounts the day he disappeared.

"My parents separated my -" you paused, eyes dragging to his as you corrected yourself. "our graduation year."

He nodded, doing his best to digest the thought of you walking down the aisle in a cap and gown with the weight of your parents' downfall on your shoulders.

"But, after that," you smiled slightly. “I applied to college and got accepted. Started working here. Got my own apartment. And I don't know...” you shrugged, "I think in a weird way, things happened the way they were supposed to. It was like everything needed to fall apart before it got better, you know?"

He smiled back at you, your last sentence lingering in the space between you as he reached for your hand. He probably wouldn't have understood that sentiment a year ago, but watching your eyes widen while your fingers slowly tangled into his, he knew exactly what you meant now.

"I'm really sorry I wasn't there..." His thumb brushed against the side of your hand, steadying himself as he let 15-year-old him and 22-year-old him come together to say what they had both been holding onto for so long. "I didn't want to leave. I just -"

Your heart swelled in your chest, watching him blink back tears he wasn't prepared to shed. "Life got really hard for a really long time for me too. But, whenever I felt myself drifting... I thought of you. Thought of the way you'd glance at me from over your book during class. Thought of the way you smiled when you thought no one was watching. I thought of you... all the time. And it was like, no matter how dark things got, it reminded me that life could be good, because it was at one point. So..."

Your hand tightened around his, two sets of glossy eyes now staring back at each other as he forced himself to say what he should've years ago. "I'm sorry that I wasn't there, but... I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere."

You were dizzy with emotion. Swimming through feelings that you'd kept buried for nearly the last decade. The thoughts you'd only been brave enough to write down. The overwhelming urge to kiss him again and again and again until neither one of you had any air left in your lungs.

Your mouth opened and then closed, your body saying more than you were capable of with how desperately you were holding onto him.

You weren't sure what you were doing. Didn't have time to think or care about the repercussions of your impulsiveness.

"Hey Mai," You called out, "I'm really not feeling well. Think I'm gonna go home."

Yuuji's head was shaking no, but the surprised smile tugging at the corner of his mouth was saying otherwise. "What're you doing?" he whisper-shouted, watching you run around the bar to grab his hand again.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Mai yelled from the back, but it was too late.

You and Yuuji were already gone, practically sprinting alongside each other, laughing as you booked it across the parking lot.

"First the free beer and now this?"

"They won't go bankrupt over me missing one day." You winked. "C'mon, I wanna show you something."

You may have been leading the way, but he was still the athlete between the two of you, purposefully slowing himself down to not be right on your heels. But when he noticed you starting to pant as the road curved into an upward slope, he reached out for you, gently spinning you around to face him.

"Come here." he knelt down, positioning himself so that you could easily wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

He carried you piggy-back style up the hill, the sun fading into an array of pink and orange as you pointed out every bookstore around campus, explaining which ones were your favorites and why. Promising to get matcha with him tomorrow at a local coffee shop you passed. Asking him about his time at Jujutsu High and trying to wrap your mind around what little he was able to tell you as he swore that he'd fill you in on the full story when the time was right. You caught him up on what he'd missed the last three years of high school and how your college classes had been going. You talked about libraries and ghosts and laughed about how in 7th grade he'd joined the occult club just because he thought it'd be an easy after-school credit.

By the time you'd finally reached the spot you'd wanted to show him, the moon had almost completely replaced the sun. Your cheeks hurt from smiling and your hands were full of a mixture of different flowers that he'd picked for you along the way.

"This is..." he trailed off, watching the sky shift into a deep blend of blue and silver. "Beautiful. How'd you even find this place?"

It was an abandoned park surrounded by overgrown trees that overlooked the city, only one rusted swing set left to its name. The hike you had to endure just to find it had more than likely been the cause of its demise, trekking up here with a backpack was hard enough, let alone a stroller.

"I kinda found it by accident." You shrugged. "I was working on an art project and needed a good view of the skyline. I looked up a bunch of different places online, but then I saw this spot and just knew."

Yuuji pulled off his hoodie, sweat trickling down his neck from the late-summer heat as the two of you sat in the grass, his arm gently wrapping around your waist.

There had been so many times you'd sat in this exact same spot by yourself, wondering what the odds were that you were both somehow looking up at the same star.

Your head rested on his shoulder, a warm gust of air swirling around you as you both looked out into the distance, watching the way the stars faded into the Tokyo lights.

"Hey, Yuuji?" You twirled a blade of grass between your fingers, not wanting to ruin the moment, but still needing to be sure.

"Yeah?"

"You promise, right?"

"Hm?" He could hear the concern in your voice, his grip tightening as he pulled you closer.

"You promise that... you're not leaving again?"

"I swear, I'm not going anywhere. And if I do," His eyes returned to yours, his free hand attentively resting under your chin. "I'm taking you with me."

You nodded, warmth washing over you as he traced along your jawline, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

Your fears were lost to his touch. Your worries dissolving into the sincerity of his voice. Your need for reassurance wholeheartedly met when his hand cupped your cheek and his lips finally caught yours. Seven years' worth of pent-up feelings pouring out between the two of you, hands roaming and little moans slipping out between breaths while you tugged on the collar of his shirt to bring him closer. He was gentle but eager. Soft but secure. Perfect, in every way.

He hovered over you, easing you onto the grass as he made a makeshift pillow out of his hoodie for you to rest your head on.

You smiled as his lips drifted from your mouth to your neck, his palm delicately traveling up your shirt, pulling your bra to the side while he helped slide your tank-top up over your head. He kissed your collarbones, whispering sweet little praises into your skin. "You're gorgeous, you know that?"

He rested a hand under your back, steadying you as his tongue flickered across your chest. He took his time, making sure to give each nipple the same amount of attention, still humming things like, "the prettiest girl I've ever seen" while his hand traced over your hip.

He tugged at the waistline of your shorts, looking up at you through his lashes as he began to leave featherlight kisses along the inside of your thigh, his blood racing at the sounds you were suddenly making.

"Does that feel good, baby?"

You whimpered out a broken "yes", practically dripping when his fingers spread you apart. He watched you writhe beneath him, drawing slow but firm circles around you. Trying not to lose himself to the way your legs were already shaking for him.

"Yuuji," you whined. "I -" his mouth was ghosting your center, his fingers still playing with your clit while he held you in place. "I n - need you." your voice was heady, lost somewhere in the clouds the faster he went. "I wanna f - feel you, so bad."

"Yeah?" He smiled, his breath still fanning across your core as his digits prodded carefully at your entrance. He groaned at how beautifully your walls swallowed him. "I wanna feel you too."

Your head lulled back, eyes pointed at the sky while your hand tangled into his pink hair. His mouth was warm and heavenly, his tongue running uppp and dowwnnn your center, saliva mixing with slick while his fingers plunged into you.

"Oh, fuck."

He only went deeper the louder you got, flattening his tongue against you with just the right pressure to keep you saying his name. His ring and middle finger hitting spots you'd never been able to reach yourself. You were clenching around him, your thighs locking around his head as you rocked against his tongue.

"Yuuji - you're gonna make me -" he thought it was adorable the way you struggled to get more than two words out at a time. "Fuck, I -"

"Mhmm, just like that."

He was in the same daze you were, sliding in and out of you feverishly until he finally felt the blissful release of your walls spasming around him. Your body suddenly unable to hold it in any longer as you gave him the privilege of really tasing you.

"Oh my god," he moaned, faithfully lapping up every bit of you he could get, only pulling away when you started begging for him.

"Yuuji -" It was needy and light-headed. "Come here, come here. Please."

The way he lifted his head up, smiling at you with your cum dripping down his chin made something inside you ache.

You pulled him towards you, desperately wrapping your legs around his waist as he began undoing the buttons on his pants. He kissed you, again and again and again, using it as a pleasant distraction while he wriggled himself free.

He took a breath, both of you watching in blitzed out awe as he lined himself up with you. "I love you." he whispered, your eyes widening from the blend of his words and the feeling of his tip slowly entering you. "Always have."

His hair brushed against your forehead as he parted your lips with his tongue, your nails digging into his neck with his first full thrust. You were so tight and warm around him.

He tried to ease into you, encouraging you while also making sure you were comfortable. His voice sweet as honey as he asked you things like, "Is that okay, baby?" and "Aw, you like when I go deep like that, huh?"

Your gaze locked with his, your eyebrows knitting together the faster his rhythm became.

You'd thought about this moment before. Thought about what it might feel like, but nothing could've prepared you for the way your heart would race at the sound of him moaning, "You're doing so good for me." The way he'd hold you, looking back at you with stars in his eyes as he filled every inch of you.

"Yuuji -"

"Let it out, baby. S'okay." He whispered, his hand reaching for yours. "I've got you."

Your vision was blurred by the feeling of his tip meeting your cervix, warm summer air brushing against your skin as you reached your breaking point.

"I love you." The words left your mouth so fast you barely had time to register them, but then... they wouldn't stop. It was the only phrase you remembered how to say. The only emotion you remembered how to feel. "I love you." you whimpered again, feeling yourself tighten around him as your confession became more frantic. "Oh - mygod, Yuuji. I love you. I love you. I love - you."

His movements were suddenly beyond his control, his body completely succumbing to the grip of yours. "Fuck, baby - I -" He didn't know if he should pull out. Didn't know if he could pull out. His head was everywhere, his mouth dropping open the longer he watched you.

Your legs locked around him in heady reassurance. "Mm'mm, d - don't stop." You panted. "Cum with me."

It was a sentence he'd only ever thought he'd be lucky enough to hear you say in his dreams.

His hips stilled after one more thrust, your walls holding him tight as he began to twitch inside you. His forehead pressed against yours, his arms struggling to keep him propped up.

You exchanged the same exhausted smirk, leaning up to kiss him while he carefully pulled out of you. A blend of fluids spilling out onto the grass beneath you as he laid by your side with his forearm over his face, trying to regain his composure.

There was a calm silence that settled between you, the both of you looking up at the stars before you rolled over to reach for your shorts, letting him catch his breath while you dug something out of the back pocket.

"Here." You said, unraveling a tangled pair of headphones and handing him one.

His eyes widened with the same curiosity they had 7 years ago as he held it to his ear, your head resting on his chest while a song he knew all too well flowed through the small speakers connecting you. A smile splitting across his face as he held you closer.

"You know, I think you were right." he exhaled, running light fingertips along your arm. "Everything did have to fall apart before it got better."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[throneofsapphics]

I've been thinking about poly!nessian & I have so many things stuck in my brain so here we go! just a few headcannons/scenarios

warnings: implied sexual content - nothing explicit, nightmares

Nesta having a nightmare

You brush the hair from her face, fingers running carefully through the sweat-soaked strands, Cassian quietly slips out to get a glass of water, careful to close the door quietly. "It's alright," you murmur, focusing on gentle, soothing, and steady motions "you're not alone nes." Shuddering breaths, before she sits up, taking the glass from him. Shuffling, you slide behind her, peppering kisses on her shoulders, Cassian's arm stretches over both of you, tugging his two girls in close.

"Running" the stairs with nesta

You get to the bottom, and convince her to carry you on her back the way up. For training, of course. Deciding to add an extra challenge, one to test her concentration, can reach around tease her, hand brushing around the curve of her breast, until she snaps, "keep it up and you'll be carrying me." You behave after that

Cassian does something to piss nesta off, except he can't figure out what it is. After 24 hours, he finally comes to you.

"Put me out of my misery," he groans, collapsing next to you on the couch. "I don't know what you're talking about," you press your lips into a tight line, fighting back a smile. He give you a 'cut the bullshit' look, and you sigh, "have you asked her?" "Three times. She told me I should know by now." He gives you what could only be described as puppy dog eyes, and you stifle a laugh "If I tell you, she'll know. Then she'll be mad at both of us." Cassian asks the house - an icy wind whipping both of you in the face, a remprimand. "It always takes her side," he grumbled. Glancing at the clock, Nesta would still be out for several hours, training with the Valkyries. "Come on," you grab his hand, tugging him to his feet, heading towards the balcony. "I have an idea for an apology."

Nesta coming home to her apology

Cassian's nearly brimming with anxious but hopeful energy, glancing at her with pleading eyes. Next to him, you're hiding a smile, she cocks her head, narrowing her eyes at you. Wordlessly, you grab her hand and tug her towards the dining room, Cassian following behind. There, a basket on the table - with an early copy of Sellyn Drake's novel, not set to be released for another week, various chocolates and pastries, and a few pretty flowers from the areas surrounding Velaris. She knows whose idea it was, but also saw each of your touches. You must've pulled several strings to get that book, she recognized the flowers - ones Cassian had taken one time, fiddled with her braid until they were woven inside. She takes the basket, "don't interrupt me this time," she warns Cassian. His mouth lips part, half in surprise, half in disbelief. You 'shush' him. Nesta's teeth dig into her bottom lip, and she tucks the basket under one arm, striding up towards him. Cupping his face with her spare hand, she presses a quick kiss to his lips, darting out of his way before he can deepen it.

You working a late night

Alone in the shop, you try to focus on your work, but the prospect of getting home to Nesta and Cassian proves distracting, as always. "Almost done," you mutter under your breath, filling out the dreaded paperwork. Three more sheets, and you'll be free. "With what?" You squeal, pen clattering across the counter. Cassian catches it before it hits the floor, but ink's already splattered on the marble counter. "Damn it," you huff. Maybe the ink will add character. Before you can grab the cloth to wipe it, Cassian's already there, pressing a kiss to your cheek, sliding around you, hand brushing along your lower back. "Thought we'd keep you company." Nesta's leaning across from you, one elbow propped on the counter. "Please tell me you brought snacks," you plead - an edge of desperation in your tone. Your stomach has been growling for the last hour. Her hand rises, a bar of chocolate balances between two fingers. She slides it across to you, fingers brushing against yours. "Here, love." "Fuck, you're perfect," you moan, teeth snapping a large piece, letting it melt on your tongue. The scent Cassian and Nesta's arousal fills the room. "I have work to do," you remind them. "Don't stink up the place." With Cassian hugging you from behind, it takes a bit longer than usual to finish up.

[ddgraywrites]

WIP: Fictional Flame

You've Got Mail meets Beauty Shop when Paige Dela Cruz, a hairstylist aspiring to open the first Filipino-owned hair salon in the heart of little Winnipeg, falls head over heels for Christian Sato, or so she thought.

Paige Dela Cruz is a hairstylist who falls head over heels for the charming and sexy Christian Sato, or so she thought. She's actually talking to Eddy Silva, Christian's cousin.

While Paige and Eddy's messages become more intimate with each passing text, Eddy finds himself wanting to let go of his facade and show Paige the person he truly is.

As if her love life wasn't complicated enough, Paige faces another threat to her well-being. Her boss, Michael Coward. He takes everything from her - her clients, her tips, and her time. As Paige endures the constant nonsensical wrath of her boss, she begins to doubt if she'll ever be able to open the salon of her dreams.

_______________

I've contemplated whether or not I should post this because the more I think about my WIP, the more embarrassed I get which is so bizarre cause I'm over here trying to make it as a romance author. The self-sabotage and imposter syndrome are really sinking in right now which is exactly why I decided to finally share the details of my WIP.

Why did I write this book?

I was a hairstylist for 5 years and met the most amazing (and awful) people in the industry and I wanted to tell a more dramatized version of what happens in this cut-throat world that is hairstyling.

As a Filipino-Canadian living in little Winnipeg, I also wanted to share glimpses of what it's like being raised by immigrants, the food, and the covert racism I've encountered throughout the years.

Lastly, I just wanted to write my own romance because I love love. I love reading and watching love stories. I've always been a hopeless romantic. After my dad died in 2021, I needed some sort of outlet. I started writing a fantasy about a young girl who also lost her dad but then I reached a point where I couldn’t move on cause fantasy was too big for my brain to fathom lol. So I decided to stick to a genre I knew I could do well, and that was romance.

_______________

I feel incredibly vulnerable right now while I type this because I'm BRACING for the criticism and the eye rolls. Not that anyone has ever done that, it's just the aNxIeTy talking. But again, thank you for following me on this journey to become a traditionally published author (crossing my fingers SO hard) and if you're also a romance author and need a critique partner/beta reader, please DM me so we can do a little swap-aroo (I just lost you there, didn't I?)

Here's the sign-up form if you're interested in beta-reading Fictional Flame: https://docs.google.com/

I'm not sure how to end this so in true Canadian fashion, thank you again and sorry for saying thank you so many times. ❤️

[aziraphales-library]

Hello!! I really appreciate your blog. I've been looking for fics told through, or just including, letters as a main theme. Thank you, have a lovely day.

Hi! You will want to check our #epistolary tag for more fics like this. Here are more to add...

A Selection of Unsent Letters from a Demon by Heretic1103 (T)

At the urging of his human friends and his grief therapy group, Crowley begins writing letters to Aziraphale that he never intends to send.

the wallpaper (slowly, slowly peeling off) by rainbowumbrella (M)

Aziraphale should put the letters away, he knew. He should just scoop them all up and slip them back into the box. No point dilly-dallying. Muriel was waiting, and so was Heaven. And yet - And yet he found himself scanning the contents of the first one in his hand, his back finding a rest on the shelf behind him, his legs crossing neatly beneath him, all without a single thought to his perfectly clean trousers. What did they matter? He hated them, anyway. *** A falling book leads Aziraphale to find a box containing all the letters he and Crowley have exchanged through the years.

Letters Unsent by Beet_Feet (T)

"You took my letter?!" Crowley sat up and twisted to look at Aziraphale with his mouth agape. "I did nothing of the sort! I found it in my notebook—the notebook in which I had written you a letter that mysteriously disappeared." "This letter?" Crowley reached down to the floorboard and held the letter up in front of Aziraphale's very flabbergasted face. He had dropped it when the angel appeared in the Bentley. "Where did you get that?!" "I found it on my car. I think someone has been playing us, Angel. Did Muriel pay you a visit today, by any chance?" (Crowley and Aziraphale vent their frustrations by writing letters they will never send to each other, but Muriel decides to meddle.)

A Letter for Later by ngk_is_cool (G)

"Anyway," his eyes returned to the newspaper, and he continued reading, “another exhibition is A Letter for Later. It will include clay tablets from Mesopotamia, vellum from Wessex, and even a modern Palm Pilot that was found at Battersea Park full of unsent love letters. It will explore the theme of unrequited love over the development of humanity…." His eyes scanned quickly the rest of the article, and he hummed in satisfaction. "It will open two weeks from now, and apparently in high demand, so much that the article recommended buying tickets in advance. Would you like to go, my dear?" Or - Crowley wrote and destroyed (or, at least, he thought did) love letters. Now they are about to be published, and he has a great plan to make sure it won't happen.

Postcards From Paris by ghostrat (G)

Crowley has just moved into his Mayfair apartment and finds a postcard addressed to the previous tenant. With no return address, he's left to collect and read the mysterious A.Z.F.'s adventures across Europe, where he hunts for bizarre bibles and rates ridiculously expensive wine in his free time. The question is: How will A.Z.F. react when Crowley finally gets his return address and writes back? --- It was different, he knew, to accidentally read someone else’s postcard versus intentionally perusing one in place of good newspaper over coffee. Crowley decided he was allowed that indecency, to balance out the good deed of safeguarding the mail in the first place. He kicked his feet up onto his desk, scooped up the takeaway coffee that was brought around by their newest intern, and settled in to read some of the most densely crowded handwriting he’d ever laid eyes on.

You’ve Got Mail by SouthDrarryReturned (T)

Aziraphale and Crowley are hereditary enemies, rival book shop owners engaged in corporate warfare. They are also pen pals that are perfect for one another. They don’t know about that bit though. A.K.A the Good Omen’s remake of the classic romcom You’ve Got Mail that no one asked for.

- Mod D

[ploppythespaceship]

Uglies - Movie Thoughts

On a whim, I decided to start re-reading the Uglies series a couple months ago -- so imagine my surprise when I found out it was getting a movie! Said movie is now out, and it was interesting to watch with the book being so fresh in my head.

Overall, it's... eh. It's not a complete train wreck, the way most critics seem to want you to think, but it is fairly bland and uninspired. It's a very watered down version of the book. It also has the misfortune of feeling like yet another a Hunger Games wannabe, despite the original book pre-dating that series by several years.

Spoilers for everything under the cut.

What I Liked

Based on reviews, I seem to be in the minority here, but I thought the cast was pretty good. People seem to hate Joey King as Tally, but I thought she was fine. Brianne Tju is easily the best in the cast, stealing the whole damn movie as Shay. Laverne Cox also gives an excellent performance as Cable, though I do think she should not have been given that role for other reasons (which I'll get into later).

I've also seen complaints that the characters aren't ugly enough. They talk about how ugly they are and point out their specific ugly features, when they don't actually appear that ugly. And I think everyone complaining about that is completely missing the point. The "Uglies" aren't actually ugly -- they're just normal people, who've been conditioned to think their imperfect features are hideous.

I was honestly unsure how the Pretties would be visualized -- in fact, I wondered if the book would just be fundamentally unadaptable because of it -- but they did a fairly good job. I think leaning on CGI and unnatural affectations was the right way to go. All the Pretties have this uncanny quality to them that suits the story perfectly.

The overall production design was solid as well. I like how Uglyville is all gray concrete and muted tones, while New Pretty Town is shimmering golds. Then upon reaching the Smoke, all the colors of nature finally come through. I do think that could have pushed that last one a little bit more, but it still works well.

Apart from that, I don't really have much to shout out. It's competently written, well-performed, well put together. I know it doesn't sound like I have much praise, but it is a competent movie.

What I'm Mixed On

By far the biggest change from the book is Peris becoming a Special. And I'm torn on it. On the one hand, it does make him a bigger part of the story -- he's honestly not much more than an inciting incident in the book. It gives him and Tally a unique arc that's probably the strongest through-line in the story. On the other hand, the Specials as a concept are so under-cooked (more on that later) and the actor is so bland that it still doesn't quite land the way it's supposed to.

What I Didn't Like

The pacing of this movie is by far its worst issue. We are flying through this plot. There is no time for anything to breathe, for characters to develop meaningful connections, for the bigger moments to feel earned. Some things do make sense to condense -- Tally's journey to the Smoke would have been incredibly boring without her internal monologue, so condensing most of that into a montage makes sense. But I do feel we lost too much. That's where a lot of Tally's characterization comes out, where we can see her bravery and ingenuity -- none of that comes across in the movie.

A lot of important beats are rushed. Tally agreeing to help Dr. Cable is over in a flash. It feels like Tally's in the Smoke for all of fifteen minutes. Tally and David barely interact, so their relationship has no real stake. Everyone is kidnapped by Special Circumstances, and then rescued immediately after. I almost think a 5-6 episode mini-series would have worked better -- but that might have introduced the opposite problem, where everything takes too long.

The movie also has frequent montages that don't really work. It seems like they were trying to show the passage of time, but it just makes everything feel even shorter.

The beginning of the movie has an exposition problem, as well. It opens with a montage explaining the entire setting... before leading into several scenes that also explain the setting through dialogue. We get fed the same details about the surgery and the Rusties and the flowers at least three times at the start, and it gets grating.

As already mentioned, Tally is pretty severely underwritten. In the book, she has a distinct personality and a unique presence. In the movie, she's just the main character because she happens to be the main character. Her intelligence and resourcefulness are pretty much gone.

I also think changing her motivation for going to the Smoke did her a disservice. In the book, Tally goes to the Smoke so she can have her surgery, and because she's convinced herself that Shay needs her help. In the movie, Dr. Cable tells her that the Smokies have a weapon, and she will be saving lives by helping to find them. I think giving her a more selfless motivation robs her of her character arc. She always comes across as someone trying to help, who wants to best for other people, rather than someone who had to consciously learn that.

The Specials are barely even a presence. I'm not sure they were even directly called Specials. People who hadn't read the book would never realize that there was an entire separate status of person here. You never see their disturbingly beautiful faces or their terrifying strength. Considering how pivotal the Specials are to the overall story, especially in the later books, it's really odd not to see them properly established here.

Like I said, Laverne Cox gives an excellent performance as Dr. Cable... but I think they should have thought twice before casting a trans woman. It's not necessarily that there's a trans woman in the villainous role, but that there's a trans woman in the villainous role who specifically wants to force people to have surgeries to brainwash them. Like... did the optics of that really not occur to anyone? At all? I think Cox could have played David's mother, instead.