#and it was also supposed to be done oh I don't know like five hours ago

[bonedo-enthusiast]

santa's little helper 𐂐◯𓇋 (klh)

desc: mall santa!leehan x mall elf!reader

warnings: smut, mdni!, perv!leehan (ofc), p in v, no protection used (no glove, no love 🫵), reader is mean but it's okay bc leehan is into it, degradation, praise, cute petnames, sexual acts in a public space (restroom), oral (reader receiving), sub!leehan, dom!reader, afab!reader, + lmk if there's anything i missed :)

wc: 2,842

you pulled the elf hat down again, annoyed that it kept drifting up on your head. you certainly didn’t feel very festive, the bright green clothing scratchy against your body anytime you moved an inch. in fact, you looked like you had come straight out of a christmas comedy, with your bored expression and your green pointed shoe tapping against the tiled floor.

your university had collaborated with the local mall for the annual santa pop-up, allowing college students to put work toward any necessary volunteer hours. you didn't have many other opportunities since your classes filled up a lot of time, so here you were, dressed in a tacky, too-tight costume waiting for the onslaught of kids to show up.

"perk up. elves aren't supposed to look cranky."

oh yeah, and there was that. or him, rather.

you turned around to fix the boy with a scowl. "the event hasn’t even started yet."

his response was that wide, irritating grin of his. "tsk, tsk… talking back to santa? do you want to be on the naughty list this year?"

kim leehan. of course he got the role of santa, being one of the most proactive students at the university. he was on the dean's list, president of the aquatic club, was apart of at least five other clubs, and was present at most volunteering events. he also happened to be incredibly annoying, always so egotistical. even if he was objectively one of the more attractive boys on campus, his personality irked you to no end.

you rolled your eyes and turned around, ignoring the chuckle he let out.

"lighten up. i'm just trying to look out for you–we’re going to start soon."

right. sure he was.

as if on cue, a gaggle of children ran toward the gated-off area like a swarm of hyperactive puppies. you quickly plastered on a smile and started by greeting the first one, instructing her to sit on santa's lap and tell him what she wanted for christmas. you stood in front of the line so no rogue child could enter, and watched as another elf wrote down the girl's wish. then you allowed the next child to enter.

your shift went by like that, rather monotonously, until the last child had gone through. 

"alright, folks! that's the end of today. thank you so much for your work. if you need me to sign a slip saying you were present, just let me know," the person in charge of the event said. "for those of you that don't mind, can you help us clean up the area for tomorrow's volunteers?"

you watched as the only other elf left, leaving you, leehan, and the event coordinator. you frowned but decided it wouldn't hurt to have some extra minutes of volunteer time, bending down and straightening the tinsel and fairy lights along the base of santa's chair.

"wasn't that fun?" leehan's voice came from behind you, startling you a little. "seeing all those happy children... it just made my heart melt."

"i guess. it wasn't fun having to keep the little ones out. they looked at me like i was their number one opp."

leehan let out a laugh. "well, that's okay. at least you look cute in your uniform."

you raised an eyebrow. "um... thanks?"

"it really suits you." leehan added, smiling down at you. "really accentuates your features."

you became more aware of how tight your costume was. they didn't have your size when you got to the event, them stating that they didn't order enough costumes. apparently they let all of their volunteers keep the costume when they were done as a token of appreciation. you now wished that was not the case.

"leehan, aren't you supposed to be helping me straighten things up?" you asked in an attempt to change the subject.

"fine." leehan said to your surprise. he bent down and helped you with straightening up the christmas decorations, then stood back up. "there. done."

"we should let the event coordinator know."

"they left." leehan said, gesturing at the gate. "probably going to do paperwork or something. we better head out."

you grabbed your backpack and followed him out of the gated area leading to the rest of the mall.

"i wonder why they stop the santa visits so early. the mall doesn't close for another three hours." leehan mused.

"the kids probably have an early bedtime." you said absentmindedly, looking around for the nearest bathroom so you could change back into your clothes.

your eyes landed on a large restroom sign and you immediately started walking toward it. you heard footsteps behind you and turned your head, seeing that leehan was following you. right, he probably wanted to change back into his clothes too.

you stopped at the restroom door, realizing that it was unisex, one stall. you turned around to tell leehan this so he could find another restroom, but he just brushed past you, opening the restroom door with a smirk. the door closed behind him, and you noticed that the door still indicated that it was vacant, meaning he didn't yet lock it. you scoffed.

was this a challenge?

you felt the familiar feeling of irritation and you let out a sigh. you had seen the restroom first, and you knew that the next restroom would probably be quite a few feet away. the itchy green fabric rubbed against your skin, as though making the decision for you. you pushed open the restroom door.

"okay, you freak. i found this restroom fair and square." you said with your hands on your hips.

leehan was leaned against the sink counter still in his santa getup as though expecting you. "oh?"

"yeah. so get out."

"or what?" leehan scoffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "what will you do if i don't?"

you let out another sigh, feeling disheartened and prepared to give up the damn restroom when your eyes trailed down and noticed the tent straining against leehan's pants.

"oh... my god. you sick freak." you said, scrunching your nose in disgust. "do you seriously have a boner right now?"

leehan pushed off of the counter, taking a few steps closer to you. "maybe. maybe not. why? wanna help me with it?"

"help you with it?" you sneered. "tell me, why do you have one in the first place? is it because of me?"

"yes." leehan said immediately, not an ounce of shame in his voice. his eyes softened even as he stood tall over you. "please... i want you."

"you sound pathetic." you said, although your tone had less bite than it previously did. in truth, his words sent a warmth straight to your cunt. the prospect of fucking him didn't sound entirely awful. in fact, the idea seemed almost enticing, and his pleading eyes didn't help.

you locked the door, sliding it from "vacant" to "occupied."

"you want me?" you chided, taking a step toward leehan, closing the distance.

leehan nodded eagerly. "yes. god, please, yes."

"unbutton your coat." you said while crossing your arms, unimpressed.

leehan brought his hands up to the fleece material, his fingers clumsily unbuttoning the coat one by one, leaving his chest bare. he didn’t even have a shirt on under it? you scoffed, wondering if he had somehow planned this.

leehan started to slide the coat off, but you stopped him. "did i tell you to take it off?"

"n-no..." leehan said with raised eyebrows, stopping his actions. "sorry."

“make it up to me. wanna touch me?” you gently pushed him so he was against the wall. 

leehan let out an involuntary moan, making your pussy throb. “yes, please… wanna touch you so bad.”

"mm well, since you asked so nicely..." you leaned forward so that your face was inches away from his. then you grabbed his hands and placed them on your boobs.

leehan began kneading them gently, his thumb running over your nipple through the fabric. you let out a sharp gasp at the contact and felt his dick get harder against your leg.

"you're so fucking hot..." he murmured, leaning forward to kiss you.

you kissed him back as you slowly rubbed your thigh against his dick. he pulled away with a moan, his head falling back. you took the opportunity to pepper kisses along his neck, sucking and leaving marks as you went.

"please..." leehan's voice cracked.

"hmm? please what?" you asked, reaching up to pinch his nipple.

"ah! f-fuck... please t-touch me!"

"i am touching you, leehan." you said matter-of-factly, squeezing his nipple again for emphasis.

leehan bit his lip. "w-want you to touch my dick, p-please!"

"i think i need some convincing first." you leaned back, leehan whimpering at the loss of contact. "make me feel good, then i'll consider it."

"i'll make you feel good... make you feel so, so fucking good."

"then do it." you said with a scoff. "or are you just all talk?"

leehan smashed his lips against yours, pulling you into him. the kiss was messy, with saliva mixing and short breaths of air. he tugged on the hem of your shirt and you took the hint, breaking away from the kiss to tug the shirt up and over your head. your bra followed soon after, the cool air hitting your already perky nipples.

"fuck..." leehan breathed, staring at your chest. "so fucking pretty."

before you had the chance to feel shy, leehan resumed kneading your tits, paying special attention to your nipples. you threw your head back with a moan as leehan swirled his tongue around your nipple, using his other hand to rub against your clothed clit.

"oh fuck, leehan..." you groaned, biting your lip.

"feel good? do i make you feel good?" leehan asked, looking at you intently.

"so good, leehan. so good, just as you promised." you didn't miss the way that leehan's dick twitched at your praise.

you felt your orgasm building fairly quickly just from his hand and fingers alone, your body betraying you. "l-leehan, i'm gonna cum."

"wait."

you froze, eyes wide as you looked at leehan. oh god, was he uncomfortable? did he realize how crazy this--

"i want to taste you." leehan said, a dopey smile on his face. "please, y/n. please let me eat you out."

and how could you deny that?

you quickly slid out of your green leggings, tossing the damned elf hat off while you were at it. leehan sunk down to the floor, face-to-face with your pelvis. before you could take off your panties, leehan reached forward and pushed your panties to the side before grabbing your waist and pulling you toward him. you gasped as he dove face-first into your cunt. as he nibbled on your clit, you swore you could see stars. leehan's tongue lapped inside you as though his life depended on it.

"nngh... l-leehan, fuck! s-slow down, i'm not gonna last!"

"don't want you to." leehan managed to get out between sucking on your folds and panting. "want you to cum."

his words pushed you over the edge, your vision going blurry as you came in his mouth, just as he wanted. as your vision came back, you panted and leehan peeled himself from you, a sheen of your cum on his chin. he licked his lips and wiped his chin with his sleeve, grinning up at you. "that was so hot. you taste so good, baby."

you ignored the way the pet name made your heart flutter. "now then... i believe it's your turn."

leehan's eyes grew wide as though he had forgotten about himself. he hastily stood up and shucked off his pants along with his boxers, his dick springing up proudly.

you let out a chuckle. "looks like someone's excited to see me..."

leehan nodded, sucking in a breath, "i need you, y/n."

"need me, huh? tell me, do you do this often?" you spit in your hand before reaching forward, grabbing his dick and sliding your hand down it.

he let out a choked moan. "n-no, just you..."

"oh? just me? so what, you've been thinking about me?"

"mmh... yes, y-yes..."

"and what have you been thinking about?" you ran your thumb over his slit, causing him to throw his head back in pleasure. "nasty things, i'm sure."

leehan didn't respond, instead letting out more lewd moans. but his flushed face told you everything you needed to know.

"i'm right, aren't i? you're such a fucking pervert." you said, speeding up your pace.

"n-n-no!" leehan managed to choke out.

"don't you lie to me. i could stop, you know." you said, doing just that. leehan's cock stood in your hand, the tip weeping and red.

"no! p-please!" leehan begged, almost manically. "please don't stop, please please--"

"then don't lie. you've been thinking nasty thoughts about me, haven't you?"

leehan's lip quivered. "y-yes... i have..." he looked like a hurt puppy, shame spread across his cheeks in a pink dust.

you felt a pang in your heart at the poor, pathetic boy in front of you. "tell me what you've been thinking about."

"w-what?" leehan bit his lip nervously.

"tell me or you won't get to cum." you said firmly.

leehan let out a soft sigh. "i just... thought about you fucking me. you... finding out about my feelings toward you and..." he trailed off, his blush deepening. his feelings toward you? you felt your lips tug into a smile, finding the sentiment endearing. but you’d have to revisit this later.

you resumed jerking him off at the same rapid pace you were previously, causing him to moan loudly. "so you wanted this to happen? i wonder how many nights you spent jerking off to the thought of me fucking you. how pathetic..."

"w-wait... w-wanna be inside y-you... please! please..." leehan whined out between moans.

you stopped your ministrations on his cock, feeling the growing wetness in your cunt. "oh, you want to be inside me, huh?”

leehan nodded insistently, eyes wide and pleading. “please, y/n, please…” 

“aww…” you cooed, raking your free, unsoiled hand through his hair. “let’s switch spots.”

the two of you shifted so that you were against the wall and you finally pulled off his coat, admiring his arms. “alright, pretty… do you think you could help me keep one of my legs up?”

leehan visibly melted a bit at the nickname. “yes, i think so.” he lifted your right leg up with one hand, using the other to steady himself against the wall.

you placed your hands on his shoulders, placing a kiss against his jawline. "alright, whenever you’re ready."

leehan nodded and licked his lips, moving your underwear to the side once again before slowly pushing his girth into you.

"oh, f-fuck!" you moaned, wrapping your arms around leehan's neck.

once leehan's dick was buried inside you, he promptly pulled out and slammed back in, eliciting moans from both of you.

"you're doing so good." you cooed in his ear, sucking more marks into his skin.

his pace quickened, the sound of flesh against flesh filling the room. his movements were so needy, so impatient. if you weren’t equally as needy, you would have teased him about it. 

"nngh... f-fuck, y/n... so wet..." leehan's voice came out breathy. "i think i'm g-gonna cum..."

"already? we just started." you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "you really can't last any longer? too excited to get your dick wet?"

"c-can't... help it!" leehan's eyes squeezed shut, his thrusting getting inconsistent and sloppy.

"that's okay... you're just my cumslut, aren't you?" you said, raking your nails against his back.

"fuck... y-yes, i'm your-- cum-- i'm cumming!" leehan choked out before you felt a warmth gushing inside of you, filling you up. you followed soon after, his orgasm fueling your own.

leehan gently pulled you off of him and helped you lean back against the wall, your legs a bit wobbly. "fuck, y/n... that was so..." he trailed off, grinning at you from ear to ear.

you felt your face grow warm, becoming aware of your nakedness. "um... yeah."

"so... i don't want things to be awkward between us." leehan said softly. "so um... would you maybe like to go out with me? i was kinda hoping for something more beyond the physical."

"oh, so there some innocent thoughts scattered among the dirty ones?"

leehan's blush returned. "uh... yeah. i would say there were quite a few. innocent ones, i mean!"

you laughed. "yeah, sure. i'll go on a date with you."

"really?" leehan beamed at you, his eyes nearly disappearing with how big his smile was.

"yeah... but first let's put on some clothes, hmm? and by clothes, i mean our regular clothes."

"what's wrong with the santa costume? it seemed to get you going." leehan said, wiggling his eyebrows.

you wrinkled your nose. "um, no. incorrect."

"liar. i bet you loved being santa's little helper."

"gross." you groaned. "you're such a freak."

leehan grinned. "so i've been told."

a/n: i was at the mall w @blueberrybeomgyu & @escapistgarden when berry was like omg mall santa fic as a joke and then ofc i couldn't stop thinking abt it 😭 im SICK but it's okay bc i made this :p i cant believe how long this turned out... im used to writing drabbles but slay ig. anyway, if ur reading this, tysm for ur support! <3 hope u enjoyed :) also, merry christmas! (if you celebrate <3)

[thirdsaltyhunter]

Hotel Pool

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warning: SMUT, fluff, oral (fmr), squirting, teasing, unprotected sex, breaking and entering? Dean's bad ideas

Summary: You and Dean enjoy the luxuries of a real hotel, which includes having some fun in the pool and the comfortable beds

You, Sam, and Dean were working a werewolf case the British Men of Letters had put you on. One of the BMoL, Mick Davies had decided to join you, much to you and Dean's disdain. After a few hours in the car of having to listen to his podcasts and you actively fighting rolling your eyes, Mick told you to turn into a parking lot.

Dean pulled into the lot of 'The Wild Elk Lodge', an actual hotel. You and the boys were so used to staying in run down motels, that a place like this was like a five star resort.

"This place seems a little-"

"Shabby? Yeah. 3 stars was the best I could do. Least our bean counters will be happy. Booked us all suits," Mick said.

"Wait, we're all in separate rooms?" Sam said in disbelief.

When you stayed at motels, the three of you usually shared one room. You and Dean would crammed yourself onto what was typically a twin-size bed, and Sam would get the other bed or the couch.

"Yeah of course. Except for the two lovebirds, obviously." Mick motioned between you and Dean and again, you fought not to roll your eyes.

"Did you say 3 stars? So we're talking fresh towels, little baby shampoos?" Dean interjected.

"Uh-huh... And I believe theres a pool," Mick said walking through the doors of the nice hotel.

You and Dean shared a look of excitement and disbelief. You were definitely going to be checking out the pool later.

You stepped into your room and Dean let out a low whistle of approval. It was nice. Everything was clean and white with a queen-size bed, it even had a fireplace.

Dean set you bags down and started looking around the room. You flopped down on the bed and almost moaned at how comfortable it was.

"Oh my God," you said in satisfaction as you felt the ache in your back subside.

"What?" Dean poked his head out from where he had been looking around in the bathroom.

"This bed is so soft."

"Well, we'll have to test it out later." Wiggling his eyebrows, he smiled and then flopped down next to you. "Damn, yeah."

"Mh, told you."

"Do they make their beds out of clouds and unicorn feathers, what the hell?"

You laughed, "I don't know, but I think we need to get a new mattress for the bunker, cause this is amazing."

Dean groaned. "This is going to ruin us," He got up and moved to pull out his laptop. "We stay here 5 minutes and we're already spoiled."

He sat at the small table by the window and began going over a few things for the case. You stayed layed out on the bed and eventually, you unintentionally drifted off to sleep.

A couple hours later you woke to Dean gently shaking your shoulder. You groaned and sat up to look at the clock, it was late at night now.

"Why'd you let me fall asleep?" you said, smoothing down your hair.

"You needed it, plus you looked so comfortable, how could I disturb you?"

"I could've helped with the research though."

"Nah there wasn't much too it. The Brits actually did their job for once, buuuut now that that's done, I was thinking we could go check out that pool."

"Baby, it's late, the hotel closes it at night."

"I know," he said, with a mischief that shone in his eyes when he was up to no good.

"So you have a plan?" you inquired, raising a brow and trying to hide your smile.

"Sweetheart, I always have a plan," he gave a proud smile and pulled his lockpicking kit from his pocket.

You felt like teenagers sneaking out of the house, except this time you we sneaking in and you were supposed to be adults. This also was far from the riskiest thing you and Dean had done, but what were you if not his partner in crime.

He had picked the lock on the door in seconds, defiant of the 'hours of operation' sign directly above it. Your eyes slowly adjusted to the dark room, the only light was the faint moonlight shining through the windows, but it was enough to make out Dean's silhouette as he stripped down to his boxers.

As you removed your outer clothing, he jumped into the water, the sound echoing off the walls.

"At least try to be quiet," you chastised as you lowered yourelf into the pool, adjusting to the temperature.

You had to admit, this was a pretty good idea on Dean's part. I mean, it wasn't really a good idea, you could get caught at any moment, but you still were going to take your time to enjoy the nice pool. You loved to swim and it had been a long time since you had been to a motel that had a pool that didn't look like you would catch a disease from it.

After a while of swimming, you went to sit on the side of the pool with your feet dangling in the water and watched your boyfriend glide underwater from one end of the pool to the other.

He emerged in front of you and shook the water from his hair, spraying you with droplets and moved to stand between your knees.

"This is nice," he said, running a hand up the side of your bare thigh.

You hummed in agreement , the tips of your fingers toying with a strand of his wet hair.

"Nice being able to get you all wet."

You couldn't help but rool your eyes at his signature smirk that followed that comment. "Too bad I'm not wet and naked," you teased.

"We can fix that."

He slid his hand up higher and hooked his fingers into the sides of your underwear. He looked at you to gage if you we ok with this, to which you responded by raising your hips, allowing him to pull your panties off.

"So beautiful," he whispered, kissing from your knee up your inner thighs.

You leaned back on your hands and spread your legs wider for him. You were rewarded by him hooking your knees over his shoulders and licking up your entrance.

Your head fell back as he began to devour you like a man starved, alternating between long licks and sucking on your clit. It never failed to amaze you how quickly he could pull you to the edge with just his mouth. You were already close when he focused all his attention on your clit and buried two fingers deep inside you, curling them upwards. Within seconds you were falling apart, trying in vain to still keep somewhat quiet.

As you were coming down from your orgasm, he lifted you from the side of the pool and eased you back into the water so he could hold you. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist and moaned as you felt his bulge pressing through his boxers. He held you for a moment,stroking a hand down your back and letting you recover.

You reached down between your bodies with the intention of providing him a fraction of the pleasure he had given you, when he stopped you. You looked up at him in confusion.

"Let's go back to our room and finish this, ok?" he responded softly.

You nodded eagerly and he helped you out of the water to dry off and re-dress, before quietly making it back to the hotel room.

Once inside the door, you were all over each other until the backs of your knees hit the mattress and you let yourself fall back onto the bed. He pulled your clothes off, covering each uncovered part of your body in kisses. When you were both undressed he paused holding up a finger. He slid off the bed and moved to light the fire, casting a romantic glow over the room. After he layed down towels over the bed so you didn't soak it with your still-damp hair and -um other things...

He returned to hover over you, setting his palms on either side of your head. He dipped down to kiss the water droplets off your neck and collar bone. Your body ached for him, your fingers dug into his shoulders as he left a soft bite on your sweet spot. You lifted your hips to grind against him, letting out a soft moan as you felt his cock slide against your clit.

He pulled back from you, it took restraint to not sink into you, but he knew the more he teased you and worked you up, the better it would feel. Instead he reached down to run his finger over your swollen bud to your entrance.

"So wet," he praised.

"Well I mean we were in the-". He cut you off with a kiss and you smiled against his lips.

He dipped two fingers into you, curling them upwards making you let out a soft moan. "I know the difference, I know that this is all because of what I do to you."

He kissed you again as he eased his finger in and out of you. Slow and teasing, not enough to bring you to release, but still causing you to moan into his mouth and he was drinking up every sweet sound. He finally stopped when your fingers were digging into his bicep, signaling your desperation.

He sat back between your legs, admiring how you looked, flushed skin that was still freckled with droplets of water that reflected the light from the fire. You admired him the same. Every muscle and scar accentuated by the lighting. He was perfect to you.

"Please Dean," you breathed, reaching out a hand, desperate to touch him again.

He gave a smile that seemed almost peaceful, grateful, full of affection for you. He slid his plams up and down your legs, massaging gently before moving them to wrap around his hips. Positioning himself at your entrance, it only took him shifting to hover over you and he was fully inside you.

Your back arched, chest rising to touch his. His head fell into the crook of your neck, taking a moment to feel you around him. After you adjusted, you started to roll your hips into him, silently begging for him to move. Understanding your desire, he started to thrust into you. Still slow and gentle, but perfect. You could feel every inch of him, every ridge and curve, reaching parts inside you that no one else was able to find.

His hand moved to cradle your head while his other arm wrapped around your arched back, pulling you too him. Times like these it felt like the air between you was too much distance. He would hold you close until it became hard to tell where you ended and he began.

His pace started to increase, his movements gaining a desperate edge. The feel of him inside you made you numb to everything else. Your fingers dug into his back as you felt that familiar pressure building. Every movement heightened your pleasure until you were crying his name. He tried to shush you given that you were in a hotel. The pressure continued to build, more intense than usual. His hand came up to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle your sounds.

"That's it, that's my girl. Cum for me."

His voice was all it took for one of the most intense orgasms you've ever had to come crashing over you. His pace faltered as you tightened around him, triggering his own release. Your climax continued and as he came and suddenly you gushed around his cock.

He relaxed on top of you, trying to recover from his orgasm, but you were rigid with shock.

"Did I just...?" you started to ask in confusion.

"Yes, yes you did," he smiled, clearly pleased with you and himself.

You felt confused and shocked and a little shy. He moved down the bed to inspect the damage.

"God baby you soaked the bed, glad we layed down a towel huh." He pulled the towel from under you and tossed it into the bathroom.

Your hands came up to cover your face.

"Hey, do not be embarrassed about that. That was awesome." He pulled your hands down and you could see his proud smile.

"I've never done that," you said quietly. Honestly you didn't even think you could.

"Want to see if I can make you do it again?" he asked playfully.

"God no, I could hardly handle the first time!" you laughed.

Dean never made you feel insecure about anything. It was nice to be able to explore new things with him. Sometimes he was even more adventurous than you. Like suggesting you break into a hotel pool in the middle of the night, but were glad to be his partner in crime. His partner in everything.

He kissed you sweetly and maneuvered your bodies so you were now laying under the covers.

"We definitely need to do this hotel thing again," he sighed, settling into the soft bed. He pull you close so your back was pressed to his chest and tucked his face into your neck.

"Now who's getting spoiled?"

"Hey! Maybe we do need new beds in the bunker that don't make my back hurt."

"Old man."

"Shut up and go to sleep." You could feel his laugh rumble in his chest as he squeezed you tight.

"I love you."

"I love you too sweetheart."

[traincat]

Your Spideytorch fics are handsdown my favourite in the fandom and I re-read them more than I'm brave enough to admit but the one where Johnny was a virgin made me absolutely OBSESSED! And anything with Peter being protective/possessive is S-Tier and I started wondering if you have any thoughts on how Peter could've been protective of him after the Lyja nonsense since comics never really handled that the way they should've [and still don't]

Thank you so much! I'm so glad you like my fic enough to reread it at all, let alone multiple times.

I also love Peter being protective/possessive (two sides of the same coin with him?) and just like, slowly cluing into all the terrible things that have happened to Johnny beyond just superhero stuff as they begin a relationship. And then being absolutely ready to snap something or someone in half.

An interesting thing is that Peter is more aware than most about what went down with Lyja. He's witness to some of it, even.

(Fantastic Four #299) "You're getting married? You?!?" Okay big talk from the man who would also be married within like five months. (Their weddings happen extremely close to each other.) So Johnny and "Alicia's" wedding was supposed to be a small, private affair which is, you know -- it's interesting. On the one hand, I can see Johnny wanting a small, intimate wedding because he is, at heart, a romantic. On the other hand, looking at the big picture, it does feel a little suspicious that he just didn't want to hype up his marriage at all or announce it anywhere or talk about it. Peter, Wyatt, and Jen are basically the only people in his life who know, and while that is basically the grand total of his personal social circle, it's easy to single Peter out here because Jen was on the FF at the time and Wyatt was dating her.

Anyway, to fast forward through Johnny's incredibly boring marriage and get to the point where it stops being boring but starts being actively terrible, Peter also reaches out to Johnny when he finds out he's "getting divorced." (He and the real Alicia are filing papers to dissolve the marriage Johnny had with Lyja, who at this point of time was thought to be dead.)

(FF #362)

And by "reaches out" I mean "annoys into a chase through New York City." But it's fine because he did it to make Johnny feel better, actually.

(FF #362) They're normal.

It should be noted at this time that Johnny was trying to attend college for the third time. (The first time being State U, where he dropped out because he was clearly trying to get his M.R.S. degree instead, and the second time being the Evil Supervillain College Peter rescued him.) He's attending ESU, which is Peter's alma mater.

Anyway, uh, Johnny's College Try Number Three isn't going to work out either, for different reasons than him kicking his feet and twirling his hair and thinking he's going to get married at nineteen or because he's actually being kidnapped by an evil hypnotist.

Because Lyja's not dead!

(FF #370) There she is. In her Revenge Assless Chaps.

Anyway, she tries to kill him and essentially forces him to go nova to save his own life, and in the process he burns down ESU. (No one dies in the fire, which is comic book logic, considering when he goes nova he explodes, but whatever.)

Johnny is arrested for the fire but, while being led through an angry crowd, he sees Lyja in the crowd, understandably freaks out, and flies away. Peter, who had been photographing Johnny's arrest for the Bugle, reacts.

(FF #372) "Oh, Johnny... what have you done to yourself? Can anyone save you now?" To be fair, Peter does protest coming down hard on Johnny in the Bugle, but it's also, you know, his job.

To Peter's credit, he does try. He spends hours swinging around in the rain, looking for Johnny, who is currently huddled among a bunch of garbage bags because he could not possibly be a sadder or wetter sad wet kitten.

(FF #372) "Even he's turned against me!" Johnny, though, traumatized and terrified, thinks everyone is out to get him.

Once Johnny is actually booked, Peter is there to take the picture, too. Rough.

(FF #376)

And then in the Spider-Man 1995 Christmas Special, Johnny and Peter discuss The Fake Egg Baby Drama, although not in great detail.

So Peter is about as aware of the situation as anyone who wasn't along for the ride the entire time. I'd say Wyatt probably knows more, but Peter's more in the know than most.

Peter's got a lot of his own stuff going on during this time period. (When doesn't he.) Very notably, at the same time Johnny was getting arrested, the Android Parents plot was happening over in Amazing Spider-Man and The Death of Vermin was happening in Spectacular Spider-Man, so Peter kind of had other things on his mind, and while it hadn't quite arrived yet, the Clone Saga was looming on the horizon. So yeah, a lot going on.

One thing that always interests me as a little experiment is to imagine what canon looks like if you get Johnny and Peter together at like -- any point in it. So what does it look like if, after Lyja's initial death, Peter and Johnny start a relationship? (You do have to discount the Spider-Marriage for this, but hey! Marvel already did that so there are no rules. She and Gwen are living in a luxury condo in Los Angeles.) Peter is very protective, and I can see him taking the Lyja situation very, very badly. He would definitely be suspicious about the egg baby and I can see it causing drama, because he'd want to support Johnny but he'd want to be rational about things, which is not Johnny's strong suit.

I do also like the idea of Peter finding Johnny while he's looking for him while Johnny's on the run and hiding him from the authorities while Peter tries to unravel exactly what happened and exonerate Johnny. Like a less fun roommates issue! Although Johnny could still cook in his underwear.

I think, no matter what, in a Spideytorch post-Lyja setting, once Peter and Johnny do get together, Peter will start slowly putting together the pieces that the Lyja situation was much, much worse than he initially believed, and that's going to cause drama, especially since Johnny tends to downplay his drama. I could see Peter getting into a fight with Sue over the fact that she invited Lyja to stay after Johnny told her he never wanted to see her again and just generally being very angry, and I think Johnny would have complicated feelings about that. On the one hand, Peter being protective over him is nice, and it's not something he's really had before, but on the other hand, he does downplay that trauma, and he's convinced himself things weren't that bad. It's fun to think about the different scenarios!

[lowkeychenle]

Like We Just Met [ZCL] (M)

Description: Everything else about the day is completely normal when Chenle realizes he wants to marry you. It hits him like a tidal wave, and he's itching to tell you just how much he wants to love you forever.

Genre: Fluff (literally SO MUCH FLUFF we love Chenle in this house go away if you don't) // Smut

Content Warnings: Explicit unprotected sex (it's actually sweet this time am I feeling okay), talks about marriage etc etc. Nothing really dark or upsetting in here.

Word Count: 11,292 (y'all I have no idea how this happened...)

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader (feat. the rest of the Dreamies)

ISTJ 7Dream Series Masterlist

Juliet's Masterlist | Requests/Tell me what you think of this plz <3

Tag List (open for ISTJ 7Dream Series): @kunvibing

Author's Note: Lowkey? This was so fun because it's from Chenle's POV...or it's supposed to be haha. This is probably my favorite fic I've ever written catch me crying in the corner...also this gif don't mind the real tears in my eyes

Nobody questioned Renjun when he said he’d invited his friend to dance practice. They brought friends in every now and then, so it wasn’t anything new. Chenle was having a bit of an off day. He kept screwing up the choreography (that he’d done seven hundred times probably in the past week alone) and even accidentally elbowed Jaemin.

Renjun’s friend had yet to show up. Chenle was beyond frustrated with the way things were going, so he let everyone know he was taking a break. He grabbed his water bottle and stomped out of the practice room.

He ended up a bit down the hallway, resting his back on the wall with his eyes closed. All he needed was a break. That had to be it.

“Are you okay?” a soft voice asked.

When he looked at you, he recoiled a bit. He’d never seen you before—he’d definitely remember—but something about you felt familiar. Like a warm aura surrounded you and infiltrated him in the best ways.

“You’re Chenle, right?” You tilted your head at him. “I’m Renjun’s friend, (Y/N). I was supposed to watch practice, but I got lost. This building is pretty big.”

“Yeah, I’m Chenle.” He blinks at you a couple more times. “Um, we’re always in the same practice room. I’ll take you over there.”

“Actually, is there a place to get some water? I forgot mine at home.” You scratched the top of your head and scrunched up your nose. “It was really hot outside.”

“It’s on the way.” He gestured down the hall with his head.

You followed him without hesitation. He was acutely aware of every step you took, of how there was only a few feet between the two of you. Even though he had no clue what to say to you, you didn’t mind walking along in silence. It was unlike him to be shy. Next to impossible for him to be starstruck.

“How long have you known Renjun for?” he asked. And why the hell had you not come around sooner?

“Oh.” You took a deep breath and pursed your lips in thought as Chenle stopped to grab you a water bottle from the kitchen. “Four years now? Five? His family knows mine, so when I came back here, his parents told him he had to help me find my way around.”

“Well, today’s pretty laid back,” Chenle explains. “We’ll probably practice for another hour or two and then go home. We’ve been at it all day.”

You hum in response, opening the cap and taking a sip. “Thank you for this. Sorry to keep you from practice.”

“Don’t be. I’m ready to get the hell out of here.” Chenle chuckles, gaze drinking you in when you’re distracted by your water. “And…they can be a little…much at first. But they’re all great people, so you’ll be fine.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m nervous.” You narrowed your eyes at him playfully.

He bit back a smile, pressing his lips into a thin line instead. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Renjun has given me plenty of warnings,” you tell him.

He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t taken you to the practice room yet. The two of you stood in the kitchen, but he knew the second you were with everyone else, the conversation was over. He didn’t want to stop talking to you, and that odd feeling of warmth settled into his chest.

“Like what?” Chenle raised his eyebrows.

“He said you’re cranky and mean.” You smiled at him, and he swore he was almost knocked off his feet. There was something about you that drew him in.

Chenle made a mental note to scold Renjun later, but he’s not necessarily wrong…he was cranky until he saw you.

“Well, in that case, what he said about everyone else is probably accurate, too.”

“You don’t look cranky,” you interjected. “You’re not mean either. Mean people don’t get strangers water bottles.”

“I’m mean to Renjun. And Jisung.”

“They’re your friends. You get a pass for your friends.” You slid one of your hands into the back pocket of your jeans, rocking on the balls of your feet as silence befell the room.

“They’re waiting for me,” Chenle says. “We should go.”

You nodded in agreement and followed him. He sulked a bit when the other members were introduced to you. They were all nice—because they always were—but when it came time to get back to practice, he found himself gravitating toward you several times.

Nearly every time he looked at you, you were already looking at him, too. Maybe it wasn’t just him that felt the weird tug. He hoped it wasn’t.

After they wrapped everything up, Chenle sat against the back wall, feeling so heavy as if he could fall asleep right there. He was exhausted.

Jaemin, Jeno, Donghyuck, and Mark were already on their way out the door, leaving Jisung to slump next to Chenle and Renjun to talk with you. Jisung noted how he was watching you, but he didn’t say anything right away. He drank his water and stayed quiet.

You said something to Renjun, who smiled at you and nodded. He headed for the door and waited for you outside. When Chenle realized you were coming over to him, he shot a worried glance over at Jisung.

“Would you look at that?” Jisung cleared his throat. “Time for me to go.”

Before Chenle could even grab him, Jisung was halfway to the door. Once you were in front of him, you sat down and crossed your legs.

“You did really well today.”

He chuckled. “I think that’s the worst I’ve done this comeback season.”

“Then you’re in pretty good shape.” You shrugged, picking at the seam of your jeans. “I wanted to thank you. For helping me earlier.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” he said. “You’re Renjun’s friend. Of course, I’d help you.”

“Right.” You brushed your hair over your shoulder and prepared to stand up. “I should go—”

“Will you be coming back?” The question shot out of his mouth, sending a blush to his cheeks in response.

“I’m not sure,” you told him. “That’s up to Renjun I guess. It was really cool to see how passionate you guys are.”

“Let me give you my number.” Chenle grabbed his phone from his pocket. “Um, just in case you get lost again. And need help finding the room.” He cringed at himself, hoping he wasn’t going to get rejected.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You gave him the tiniest smile, but it made his heart flutter anyway.

He handed it to you with the contact app open. You didn’t even hesitate to type in your name and number. After, you sent yourself a text, and Chenle heard it ring in your back pocket. You gave it back to him, grinned, and left him sitting there in shock.

He couldn’t choose between staring at you as you left and looking down at your contact open on his screen. His stomach twisted with nerves, but the second he saw the smiley face emoji you’d put next to your name, he already knew.

You were going to be someone to him.

Mark drops something in the kitchen, snapping Chenle out of it. He looks at you, and you smile back at him. With you pressed into his side and your legs over his lap, he can’t help but grin right back.

His hand rests on your thigh, thumb sliding gently back and forth as he presses a kiss to your temple. He’d never get used to this.

After returning from the kitchen, Mark allows the game to resume. His nose scrunches as he glances between you and Chenle. “That’s a weird ass question.”

“Not weird.” Chenle shakes his head. “Critical thinking, Mark, you should try it.”

“Oh, be nice.” You shove his shoulder.

For a while now, Chenle has felt his feelings growing more than he thought possible. He’s already in love with you (thankfully, since you’ve been together almost a year now), but something about you lately has him on a whole other level. Even then, he’s not sure what it is. He decides he’ll ride it out for a while and see where it takes him.

“Why would you ask your girlfriend what year she’d take a time machine back to? Shouldn’t she be like…happiest now?” Mark asks, sipping on whatever mixed drink he’d prepared in Chenle’s kitchen.

“You’d think.” Chenle snorts, leaning back against the couch and throwing his arm around you.

“He asks me questions like this all the time,” you tell Mark. When you steal a glance at your boyfriend, his breath catches in his chest.

What the hell is going on with him lately? He can’t concentrate around you (even more than usual) and every tiny thing you do has his heart hammering against his ribcage. Soon enough, he’s sure you’ll both hear the bones crack.

“Has anyone, by chance, ever told you two that you’re gross?” Mark chuckles to himself and leans back in the recliner. “Some of us are single and lonely, you know.”

“Some of us will never be that again,” Chenle shoots back.

“Oh, you two are the worst.” Your laugh echoes pleasantly in his ears, and he subconsciously leans closer to you.

“I am curious what your answer is, though,” Mark interjects. “Since Chenle’s so sure.”

Chenle takes a sip of his own drink, nearly cringing at the bitter taste dragging down his throat. He’s not much of a drinker—social at best. But he can still appreciate the buzz and the hazy happiness that comes with it. You take his hand that dangles over your shoulder, twirling the friendship ring wrapped around his middle finger. The action is so, so simple, yet it makes his stomach turn.

If he doesn’t figure out what the hell’s going on with him soon, he’s gonna have to separate himself from you.

“Well, you’re right.” You shrug, shuffling closer to Chenle. “This part of my life has definitely been the best. But if I could go back to any time, it would probably be when we met. You only get to meet Zhong Chenle once in your life, dude. I’d do it over and over again if I could. The second I saw him, I knew he would be important to me.”

Chenle thinks back to the moment he first saw you. The way he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you like an actual child or the way he took in every detail of you to store in his mind forever—just in case he never got to speak to you again. He pauses, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he analyzes your answer.

Mark groans. “That doesn’t count! That was last year.”

Grabbing the pillow next to him, Chenle throws it at his friend. “Leave her alone, it was a good answer.”

But when he contemplates that thought, he’s not sure he understands what you mean. His ears burn, the tips of them turning red as he recalls how embarrassingly nervous he was around you all the time. How awkward all of your firsts together were. Everything now is so much better than back then.

Not to mention he’s looked at you the same way since that first night. His feelings for you have grown, sure, but those butterflies he used to get still torment him just about every time he sees you smile.

“Why?” Chenle finally asks.

“You were so cute,” you hum, shifting closer to him. “Everything made you nervous. You almost keeled over in embarrassment when you asked to hold my hand.”

Mark laughs, and Chenle sends a glare his way. No part of that is even anywhere near funny.

“Okay, it's your turn.” Mark gestures at you.

Chenle resists the urge to reach over and touch your face. Usually, he’s so much better about being so clingy in front of his friends and, while he would prefer Mark not seeing this side of him, he couldn’t care less when his gaze is locked with yours.

“Cool.” You nod, taking a sip of your drink. “Both of you. Hypothetical situation. Let’s say you’re drunk. You walk into a room and everyone you’ve ever loved is in there. Like…loved. Who are you going to?”

“Dude.” Mark’s jaw drops. “That’s such a shitty question for me.”

“You’ll live,” Chenle replies. “Just romantic love?”

“All of it. Platonic, romantic, family.” You purse your lips in thought.

Chenle doesn’t have to think about it. Not really. He’d rather get struck by lightning and then hit by a bus right after before admitting that so easily in front of Mark. In this case, it’s always been you. From the second you spoke to him for the first time, he was irrevocably yours. 

“You.” Chenle watches your eyebrows raise.

“Be serious,” you say. “Your parents are included in that.”

“I’m serious. You.” Chenle chuckles.

You give him a pointed look, but that’s when Mark cuts in.

“No, he’s for real. Like…that legitimately happened.” Mark leans forward, elbows digging into his thighs as he rests his head in his palms. “Do you guys not remember?”

“What are you talking about?” you ask him, frowning.

Chenle remembers. Barely, and it’s a bit foggy, but it comes back like a baseball bat upside the head as Mark starts telling the story.

Chenle’s birthday party last year. The night was barely halfway through and he was drunk enough to be stumbling over his feet. He’d heard you were coming, but he had yet to see you. Even when every other feeling was numbed by the tingling sensation the alcohol left behind, his craving to see you was all that remained. 

Mark walked next to him, having a full conversation with himself since Chenle was so fog-brained. As much as he loved Mark, there was only one person he wanted to see. Everyone he knew and loved was here—his parents, the rest of his group, and Jisung had somehow forgotten to uninvite Chenle’s ex.

He only ever dated one person before you, but he wasn’t sure he ever loved her. Regardless, there she was. Even with her standing across the room from him, he kept waiting like a lost puppy.

When you walked in, he swore the whole world stopped around him. Everyone but you was moving in slow motion before they eventually faded into nothing, darkness that was emphasized by the light you were. His breath caught in his throat, and he stopped walking.

Chenle couldn’t form a coherent thought while he stared at you, drunken stupor making it so much easier to forget the embarrassment. Mark watched him curiously as Chenle made his way over to you. He refused to waste any more time when he knew you were the one he wanted to talk to.

You had always been more confident around him than he was around you. Your face lit up when you saw him, wrapping your arms around him. He secured you in his grasp, breathing in the scent of your hair and the perfume you wore.

“Happy birthday.” Your voice is muffled a bit by his T-shirt. “Sorry I’m late, took a bit longer to get ready than I thought it would.”

He knew he should’ve let you go. People were starting to notice the way he was clinging to you, and not even being drunk could excuse that behavior. He was about ready to tell everyone except you to leave. Nothing else mattered. If he could spend his birthday with you, it would be the best one yet.

It’d been two months since Renjun had introduced you to the rest of them. Which means, he’s only known of your existence for two months, and you already command so much of his brain matter that he can’t think of anyone but you. Great.

He finally (reluctantly) let you go and led you over to the rest of the group. Nobody said anything when he made Mark scoot over so you could sit next to him. Nobody questioned it. His parents would ask him about it later, but until then, there was no reason for him to worry. After all, his crush on you was the most obvious thing in the world, so it was only a matter of time before you found out about it.

By the end of the night, he hadn’t spent enough time with you. People were starting to shuffle out, but you stayed, chatting with Renjun until only four remained. Chenle’s parents had gone to bed long ago. You were almost caught up to him on drinks, your laughs longer and your movements slower.

Under any other circumstances, he wouldn’t have been as brave as to walk up to you and ask you to stay the night. He didn’t mean it in a suggestive way, either. He just didn’t want you to leave yet.

“Chenle,” Renjun scolds, swatting his shoulder. “You can’t ask something like that so casually.”

“You want me to stay here? With you?” Your voice was higher than normal. Chenle accredited it to the alcohol raging in your system.

“I like when you’re here.” Chenle nodded. “You make everything calm.”

Renjun scrunched up his face, slamming his forehead into his palm. “(Y/N), you should probably go home—”

“No, it’s okay.” You brushed him off. “I’m okay with staying.”

Oh, he was in love with you. There was no other explanation for the way his heart skipped a beat when those words came out of your mouth.

Chenle doesn’t remember the rest of that night, but he does recall waking up next to you in the morning and freaking out. Alcohol made him brave, but it didn’t save him from the red-hot embarrassment of the next day.

“I didn’t even realize…” you trailed off, a small smile forming on your face. “You picked me.”

“I’ll always pick you,” Chenle responds easily, like second nature.

Mark decides it’s time for him to leave, but Chenle’s mind is still reeling with memories. With all of the firsts you said you wished you could relive. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t figure out what the fuck this feeling is. As the two of you climb into bed, he’s so distracted, he can’t fall asleep, even with you curled into his chest.

“(Y/N),” Chenle groaned when he saw you in the practice room mirror. “You gotta stop showing up here if you don’t want me to fall in love with you.”

It was a joke. Sort of.

“Right, and let you forget to eat? I think not.” You fought back every time, unphased by the way he so casually admitted he’s starting to fall for you.

At least, that was his idea of admitting it.

You walked over with the bags in your hand, sitting down on the practice room floor next to him. 

“I haven’t even been here that long,” Chenle defended himself. “I would’ve eaten after I left.”

You unloaded the contents, opening boxes. “I can go if that’s what you want.”

“Not what I said.” For some reason, he felt a sudden burst of courage. He’s known you for four months at this point, and something about today felt…right. “I was serious, you know.”

“About what?” You grabbed the drinks from the carrier.

“You.”

“What?” You recoiled, looking at him in confusion.

He contemplated telling you to forget it. That it didn’t matter, and thank you for the food instead. If you didn’t feel the same way for him, he’d be devastated. And then you’d leave him for good and take all the food with you. He was starving.

“If you keep doing nice things for me, I’m gonna fall for you.” As if he hasn’t already.

You paused, but Chenle didn’t miss the blush on your face. Clearing your throat, you looked away from him and took a deep breath. His fists clenched as he awaited your rejection, but the longer the silence stretched, the more he felt you might want him to.

“Don’t say things like that if you don’t mean it,” you finally said and brushed your hair behind your ears. Reaching forward for the food again, you gave Chenle a shocked look when he grabbed your wrist.

“You’re right. I’m not going to fall for you. I already did.”

Your jaw dropped, eyes widening as his words settled in the air around both of you. With his heart racing, he released your wrist and intertwined your fingers instead.

“I really, really like you.”

“You should really eat your food before it gets cold.” You pulled your hand from his and pushed the box closer to him.

He stared blankly at the wall, noting the sudden chill on his skin that you left behind. A sinking feeling encapsulated his chest, and he knew he ruined everything. You looked like you were ready to run.

“Forget I said anything,” he told you. “I’m sorry if that was weird.”

“Eat,” you commanded again. “I’m not talking about this with you until I know you’ve eaten. If you don’t, we’ll go off on a tangent and you’ll be starving all night.”

“Does that mean you—”

“Yes, Chenle.” You interrupted him. “Yes, I really, really like you too, which is why I want to make sure you eat.”

At that moment, Chenle realized that if he walked outside and randomly dropped dead, he’d be okay with it now that he’s gotten that confession out of you. There wasn’t a damn thing that could top that. Everything else in life would be subpar to today, so there was no point in trying.

You and Chenle ate in silence. He kept stealing glances at you, catching you doing the same to him. If all he had to do in order to get you to talk about your feelings with him was eat, he’d do it, albeit probably a bit too fast for his own good.

Chenle runs his fingers through his hair, his thumb tracing gentle shapes against the bare skin of your arm. These memories have no business popping up in the middle of the night. He has practice tomorrow. He’ll be so off his game, the other members will want to kill him.

Usually, he has no problem falling asleep, especially with you right beside him. Over the past year, you’ve probably spent more nights with him than you have at your own place. He teases you for it all the time, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Closing his eyes, he listens to the soft sounds of your breathing and allows himself to feel the way your body slots with his so easily. Everything about you is perfect. About the two of you together. He would toss and turn, but no way is he going to disturb you. Even if he can’t sleep, he’d never screw up your schedule on purpose.

“It’s so pretty.” You were in awe, staring at the sunset from Chenle’s backyard. He’d set up a picnic date for the two of you, and afterward, you were watching the sun fade below the treeline while lying on top of a red blanket.

His fingers were intertwined with yours, something that had become so normal for you. Two weeks since his confession, and it was the second date he planned. He wondered, obsessed over, even, what your thought process was on all of this. Were you happy? Did he make you happy?

He wanted to kiss you when he confessed to you. And while he came close to it on your first date, he decided against it. It had to be perfect. Nothing was good enough for you in his mind, especially when all he wanted was to make sure you knew just how he felt about you.

How was he supposed to tell you that?

He’d already said he fell for you, but that didn’t begin to cover it. Not really. You made him want to put in effort, made him crave your happiness like it was the very oxygen he breathed. At the same time, he didn’t want you to think he didn’t want to kiss you. Hell, he’d already dreamed of it, for fuck’s sake, so that definitely wasn’t the issue.

Lost in thought, he’s only snapped out of it by the way you rolled over, lying on your stomach so you can get a good look at his face. You rested your head on your right palm, your left finding his bicep.

“You’re so perfect,” he hummed, twirling your hair with his fingers. “Could look at you forever.”

“Some people might have an issue with that.” You laughed.

“We’re the only ones that matter,” he responded.

Your smile slowly faded, a look of longing replacing it as your gaze softened.

God, he wanted to kiss you. He needed to.

All thoughts of the perfect moment have fled from his brain. Any moment would be perfect as long as it’s you.

He sat up and you leaned forward, and before he knew it, his nose brushed yours. Your eyes fluttered shut in preparation. The heat of the sun sank into his skin. Your perfume wafted from you, intertwining with the air and suffocating him in the best ways. If he could pick one scent to smell for the rest of his life, it would be yours.

Was it normal to have these thoughts so early?

Why was he thinking of that right now? Literally the worst possible time.

“Can I?” he whispered, scared to ruin everything.

“Yes.”

As soon as the word left your mouth, he kissed you. Everything about you was soft, so he shouldn’t have been so surprised to find your lips the same way. His hands shook as he touched your waist.

He was already in big trouble. There wasn’t a single part of him that wanted to stop there. His heart thudded so loud, he was halfway sure you could hear it, too. It felt like sparks flew between you two, absolute electricity coursing through every single one of his veins, heating up his bloodstream and making the thought of pulling away from you the absolute worst case scenario.

You moved away first, gasping for breath. Chenle craved tugging you back to him. His body reacted to you in ways it had never reacted to anyone else. He didn’t want to take it too far, but he sure as hell didn’t want to stop, either.

He couldn’t describe the way you felt. The way you tasted. Everything about you was so heart-achingly perfect, he wanted to experience you all the time. He wanted to rewind time so he could kiss you again for the first time, and he’d do it over and over and over again.

Something about first kisses set him on fire. He was absolutely sure he’d kiss you more. In fact, he was seconds away from it. But the adrenaline coming from the very first brush of your lips on his wasn’t something he’d ever be able to recreate.

“Again.” You leaned in once more.

He met you in the middle eagerly, hand finding the back of your head before he turned you so you were lying on your back. Half of his weight pressed against you, but he did his best to keep himself lifted up so you weren’t uncomfortable.

Unforgettable heat swarmed him, the sun caressing his skin as your fingers gently traced down the back of his neck. Goosebumps formed, but he could hardly pay attention to them. The entire world was gone, and you were everything, the only person remaining in a sea of nothingness. He wanted you. Needed you.

This was technically your second kiss, but in his mind, it was still the first since they happened almost at the same time. He hadn’t stopped to take a breath in much too long, but he’d rather suffocate than separate from you.

He stopped when your breath hitched, completely lost in the sound. When he wasn’t focusing on your mouth anymore, he realized why—his hand had somehow found its way to your upper thigh. His face burned as he removed it.

“I didn’t…” he trailed off, scanning over your face for any hint of what you were feeling. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

You chuckled at him, pushing his shoulder. “You wish that excuse would work on me.”

The sky faded into a beautiful lilac color, the kind that only appeared when the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. Clouds drifted effortlessly, stars beginning to shine.

“Should we go inside?” Chenle asked. “It’ll get cold without the sun.”

Whenever he looked at you, he knew you were different. He couldn’t place how, but nobody else had ever made him feel the way you do. Like his heart was going to burst out of his chest while simultaneously stopping and also skipping every other beat. He didn’t even know how he was alive anymore.

In the last two weeks since his confession, the boys had told him how much happier he was. How he was striving with more effort lately and trying his best at any given moment of the day. You were his motivation. You made him want to be the absolute best he could be, and even as new as the relationship was, he’d already known you for months—he was nervous about you deciding you wanted something else. Someone who wasn’t him.

The moment before replayed in his head, and he heard that breath hitch on repeat while he awaited your answer. He did his best to stop thinking about it, but nothing worked. All he wanted to do was kiss you again, over and over and over until the literal end of time.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Let’s go inside.”

His cheeks redden just thinking of that memory. The first time he ever kissed you, and he royally fucked up because his hand didn’t know how to stay put. At this point, it’s clear he’s not going to be able to fall asleep. He hates the idea of leaving you in bed alone, but he’s only going to disturb you if he doesn’t plan on sleeping.

Sliding away from you carefully, he quietly gets up and heads into the kitchen. He runs his fingers through his hair. His hands down his face. He must be sentimental today, because he can’t stop thinking about you for the life of him. Every memory from the last year pokes at his head, and he has no clue how to handle it.

Patting his cheeks, he heads over to the fridge to grab a water bottle. Photos of the two of you are framed up on the wall. There’s one picture in particular he always says is his favorite, but he refuses to tell you why.

The two of you were sitting on the floor, and you had the cutest glare on your face. He sees the adoration gleaming in your gaze even though you look about ready to strangle him. In your defense, you probably were. He lets out a tiny laugh, tracing over the frame. 

There’s even one with Chenle between you and Jisung, and a group picture with you and the boys. Chenle loves his friends dearly, and the way they’ve welcomed you with open arms says a lot about both your relationship with them and his potential future with you. Everyone in his life loves you. You’re the one they call when Chenle’s upset or if he’s off his game, and no matter when or where this is happening, you show up to make him feel better.

He could be having the worst day of his entire existence, and a simple ‘I love you’ passing from your lips has him forgetting everything shitty about the world. Looking back at the pictures, he’s drawn back into memory.

He heard the birds outside his window before he saw the gleaming sun. His eyes fluttered open while he groaned quietly at the sudden change of brightness. Your body was like a fireball, your skin searing hot against his, but it did little to bother him. His groan turned into a sigh of content, and he wrapped his arms around you tighter. Fingertips trailing down your bare spine, he kissed your forehead.

Three months together, and every night spent with you made him fall deeper in love. He’d never known peace as he did at that moment. No interruptions, just the two of you basking in each other’s embrace.

He could’ve stayed like that forever—he wanted to, but glancing at the clock, he realized how close it was to noon. Jaemin would be there soon, and the last thing Chenle needed was him in his house when you were naked in his bed.

He reluctantly got up, dressing himself before grabbing some clothes for you. You have a drawer, multiple, actually, but he picked his own T-shirt for you to wear. When he made it over to you, you were stirring.

“You got up.” You pouted at him, staring at him through half-closed eyes. “And you have clothes on.”

Chenle laughed. “Sorry, love. Jaemin will be here soon.”

“It’s that late?” you asked.

Chenle nodded, setting the clothes down next to you. He kissed you softly, gently, a kiss so barely there it left you leaning forward to try to continue it. Cupping your cheek, he brushed his thumb along your skin.

You didn’t need help getting dressed, but he did it anyway. He loved the way you looked in his T-shirts, and even though it’s long enough to cover you, no way he’d risk it. Once you were finished, the two of you got ready for the day. You brushed your teeth together, he watched you brush your hair, and by the time you’re done, Jaemin was walking in the front door.

The three of you sat on the floor around Chenle’s coffee table, playing a game. He can’t remember what the game was anymore, only that you were terrible at it and that he loved winning.

Jaemin teased both of you the whole time, ruffling Chenle’s hair on multiple occasions. As much as he’d love to deny it, Chenle enjoyed that Jaemin liked the two of you together. It was almost like an affirmation, even if he didn’t need one.

Being the professional picture-snapper he was, Jaemin took the picture now hanging up on Chenle’s wall. You, with your arms crossed over your chest and a big pout on your face, and Chenle, smiling widely at you with such adoration in his eyes it should’ve been impossible.

“Lele?” Your soft voice breaks him away from his memory. He turns to you quickly, heart instantly halting in his chest when he sees his shirt on you.

“What are you doing up?” he asks.

“I was gonna ask you that.” You rub your eyes, feet shuffling on the floor as you walk over to him.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he replies and takes you in his arms with ease. “Didn’t want to bug you, sunshine.”

You don’t respond. All you do is bury your head in his chest and breathe him in. He runs his fingers through your hair, kissing the top of your head. With all the lights off, the only illumination is the full moon outside as it casts shadows on the ground. The faint blue makes you that much more ethereal to him.

“You okay?” he whispers.

“Mm,” you hum in response. “This is nice.”

Chenle smiles. “Yeah, it is. Always is.”

After a bit of silence and rocking you gently, an idea sparks. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, finding the playlist he made specifically for when he thinks about you, and sets it on the counter. You stare at him in tired confusion, but when one of his arms wraps around your waist, you catch on.

“What are you doing?” Humor is laced in your voice, but the sweet look on your face tells him his actions are making you happy. That’s his goal, constantly. All he wants is to make you happy.

“Checking something off the bucket list,” he replies, slowly turning you to the soft beat.

“Something’s missing,” you say as he twirls you.

He steals a glance at the way his shirt rides up your legs, showing just a peek of your panties beneath it.

“What?” he asks, pulling you back to him.

“Sing to me.” You place your hand on his chest.

His heart betrays him at that moment. It rages, and he knows you can feel it. Chenle sings in front of thousands of people all the time, but something about you is different. Something about you right now is different.

“What’s going on up in there?” You run your fingers through his hair. “You’ve been all weird today.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he admits. “Everything. From the moment we met up until this…it keeps repeating over and over again.”

“Welcome to my world,” you replied, grasping his shoulders. You massage them gently as you sway along with the music.

The confession from you makes him smile. At least he’s not the only one doing constant circles in his head. He calms a bit, and when a new song plays, he sings to you. Your body immediately relaxes into his, as if every stress you’ve ever had has left you without hesitation.

Chenle loves to sing. He does it all the time, and he only wants to keep getting better. To have someone like you as his partner, someone who supports him endlessly and genuinely loves his voice…it’s unparalleled.

He’s not sure how long the two of you are like this, or how long he’s singing for, but song after song, all he knows is that you’re smiling. You’re looking at him with unmatched adoration in your eyes, pure love. Nobody else has ever looked at him in this way, and he doesn’t want them to.

He wants to stay here with you and watch you love him in ways he’s never been loved before.

He stops. His singing fades out, and he furrows his eyebrows as he finally, finally realizes what’s been happening to him. You tilt your head, able to ask him questions without saying anything. His chest feels like it’s going to burst.

You’re it. 

You’re everything, and he’s going to marry you.

He’s going to spend the rest of his life striving to make sure you love him as much as you do right now, if not more.

It seems like you feel it, too. Your face softens and you reach up to trace along his cheekbone. He leans into your touch, chasing the warmth like it’s the last time he’ll ever feel it.

“I…” He takes a deep breath, shaking his head slowly. “I’m so fucking in love with you.”

“I know.” You grin so wide, Chenle almost thinks it’ll split your face in two.

“Good.” He brushes your hair behind your ear. “I hope I’m doing a good job in showing you that every day.”

You pause, hands trailing down from his cheeks to his shoulders. “I have never once doubted that you love me, Lele. Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“I promise you I’ve never felt better,” he replies. “Just checking in with you.”

“You do so much more than you realize. No matter how busy you are, you text me to tell me you love me or that you’re thinking about me. You practice non-stop with the boys but you still make an effort with me when you could easily use that as an excuse. There is not one thing I could ask for that you don’t already do.” You press a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll never doubt you.”

“Sometimes I worry,” he admits. “You make me…want to be better. In every way possible. In my career, in my life, with you. And if I’m not being better every day, then I don’t deserve you.”

“Chenle.” You give him a pointed look. “When I think back to the first day we met, I remember how…how you acted from the first time you spoke to me. At the time, I really thought I was crazy, but I knew you’d be someone to me. You didn’t even know me, but you were so kind. And now that we’re here like this, you haven’t changed. There’s no getting better. You’re already the best.”

“How do you do that?” He chuckles, kissing your forehead.

“Do what?”

“Know exactly what to say.”

“That’s my special talent,” you tell him.

“We should get back to bed,” Chenle says, sleep weighing on him. “Meeting the boys tomorrow.”

He grabs his phone from the counter, his heart full and warm as he leads you back to his bedroom. This time, as he’s lying with you pressed to his chest, he’s able to fall into his dreamland.

Despite his lack of sleep, Chenle is full of energy the next day. He wakes up and makes you coffee just the way you like before sitting on the edge of the bed by your sleeping form. When he sets the cup on the nightstand, you stir, turning over to face him.

“You’re gonna be late,” you mumble, even though you have no idea what time it is.

Chenle chuckles, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “I’ll see you in a bit, okay? You can stay here if you want. Wanted to tell you I love you before I left.”

“Love you, too,” you say with a tired smile, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Drink your coffee before it gets cold. I’ll grab dinner for us on my way back.”

Walking away from you feels like someone’s trying to rip his heart out of his chest. You’re an extension of him at this point, and after his sudden realization last night, all he wants to do is spend the day curled up with you.

Luckily for him, his day passes by pretty quickly. He got a lot done today, and he was proud of that. You’d be proud of him, too. He’s itching to get home and tell you everything that happened. Staying true to his word, he picks up your favorite takeout.

He’s going to be honest with you about what was going on with him yesterday. It’s the right thing to do—and in a perfect world, you’ll feel the same way he does. He hasn’t felt this nervous since he admitted his feelings for you. Even though that side of him feels worlds away now, he remembers it like it was yesterday.

But the restaurant isn’t the only stop he makes.

He’s shaking by the time he gets back. Is a year really enough time? It is for him, but what if you think he’s insane?

When he arrives, he’s not expecting what you’ve done at all. The main lights are off, but a dim golden glow from the strips along the wall and the candles illuminate the room enough. He sets the bag down on the table, completely forgetting about the food as he searches for you.

“(Y/N)?”

“You’re earlier than I thought you’d be,” you tell him, walking out of his bedroom while still putting in an earring.

His throat dries. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words could ever justify the way you look right now. You put on a dress, one of his favorites, and he’s in jeans and a T-shirt.

You kiss his cheek. “I figured you deserve something nice to come home to.”

“You’re my something nice.” He wraps his arm around your waist. “Should I change?”

“We’re not going anywhere.” You shake your head. “Just relax and enjoy your gorgeous girlfriend.”

“Oh, I can get on board with that.” He allows you to lead him back to the table.

Once he’s taking the food out of the bag, he keeps stealing glances at you. You put in all this effort for him, and he knows how much work it must’ve been to hang up all these lights. The golden glow looks ethereal against your skin.

“Before we eat, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” He clears his throat to stop it from collapsing in on itself, but it doesn’t work.

“What’s up?” You set your elbow on the table and rest your head on your palm. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s perfect, actually.” He takes a deep breath, reaching to grab your free hand. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You bite back a laugh.

“You can’t make fun of me for what I’m about to tell you.” He gives you the most serious look he can muster, and you nod.

“I wouldn’t do that,” you reassure him. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I…I want to love you forever.” He gulps. “And when I think of everything we’ve gone through and been through together, I seriously can’t imagine ever trying to have anyone else fill this spot you hold in my life.”

You perk up a bit, gaze staring into his. God, he loves how interested you are in what he has to say. How you’re listening to him so intently. His thumb rubs over your knuckles as he tries to think of the words he wants to use.

“I want to marry you. Call me crazy if you want, tell me you hate the idea, that’s fine, but I had to tell you. We obviously can’t get married now, or probably any time soon because of my contract, but I want you to know that it’s what I want. It’s what’s going to happen if you want it, too.”

You clear your throat and cover your mouth with your hand, eyes welling. Chenle’s heart aches seeing this reaction, knowing you feel as strongly as he does. He reaches into his pocket and puts a small box on the table in front of you.

“It’s not the real thing. Not yet. But I want you to know how serious I am, because if I was able to marry you, I would’ve done it yesterday.” He opens it, revealing a simple band in it. “Subtle enough where people won’t ask questions, but we’ll know.”

“Chenle, are you being serious right now?” You sniffle. “This is a very cruel prank.”

“The guys and I sat down together today to write a song. I think you’ll love it, so when we record it I’m sneaking you a copy. Anyway, we were there for twenty minutes, and words were just flowing out of me. I wrote about you. About how you make me feel, and I think anyone who knows about us will understand that when they listen to the song.”

He pauses to swallow past the lump in his throat.

“I want you. I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life proving to you why I deserve that. Let me put this ring on you, and this can be the start.”

You quickly wipe your face as you nod. He takes your left hand, grabs the ring out of the box, and slips it on your middle finger.

“One day, this will be real.” Chenle catches another one of your tears. “I love you. There is not one thing in this world that could change that.”

His heart pounds in his chest as he watches your reaction. He wants to touch you and kiss you after pouring his thoughts out to you, but he needs to make sure you’re feeling the same way. The last thing he wants to do is overwhelm you.

His palms are sweaty and he can barely sit still. You groan, giving one last aggressive swipe below your eyes before you launch up from your chair and end up in his lap. You bury your head in his neck, squeezing him tighter than you should. He instinctively wraps his arms around your waist, softly chuckling at your outburst.

“You better not change your mind.” Cupping both of his cheeks, you try your best to look angry. “If you do, I’m marrying you anyway.”

His own vision blurs at the sight of you. You love him as much as he loves you, and you want to be with him forever.

You want to be with him forever.

The emotions rioting inside him surprise even him, and he blinks quickly to try and suppress the tears. It’s no use, because as soon as you notice, you start crying again. He groans and drops his head back on the chair, squeezing you closer to him.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Chenle says.

“Kiss me, you idiot.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His mouth finds yours, both of you falling into each other’s rhythm. Saltiness from your tears lingers on your lips. He weaves his fingers through your hair, but no matter what he does, you’re just not close enough.

Pulling away from you, he rests his forehead on yours. “You should eat, sunshine.”

“You expect me to be able to eat after all of that?” You furrow your eyebrows. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

“You’ll be sad if it gets cold,” he reminds you.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be sad again,” you whisper.

All thoughts escape him. Nothing else exists except for you, wrapped around him like a damn koala bear. He rests his hand on your thigh and lets your words sink deep into him.

Moments like these are hard to explain, he thinks. He’s only like this around you, so lost in his connection with you that he’s got nothing else on his mind. Anything and everything you say to him is tattooed in the darkest ink on his soul, until he’s covered in everything he wants to be for you.

“Promise me you’ll always look at me like that.” You break the silence, running your fingers through his hair and smiling.

“I promise.” He nods, barely realizing how he’s leaning forward.

Your eyes flutter shut as he inches closer. He kisses you softly, almost as if he fears he’ll break you. His fingers splay out across the small of your back and he traces shapes into the soft fabric of your dress. You’re overwhelming. His love for you is, too. So much so, he feels as if he’s going to burst out of his skin. He’s going to wake up and everything will have been a dream, because there’s no way he’d ever done anything in his life to deserve someone like you.

You hum into his mouth, rolling your hips once. His breathing stutters as his first instinct is to lift toward you. At first, he wants to stay like this, you clinging onto him like you’d be lost without him, but when you grind down a second time, he feels a twitch in his pants.

It’s been over a week since the last time he’s been inside you thanks to his schedules. And now you’re on top of him, wearing his favorite dress of yours, and kissing him like you’ll never be able to feel him again after tonight.

He’s tired, but he’s never too tired for you. Brushing your hair away, he leans down to kiss your neck, licking the expanse of your soft skin. Your pulse thunders beneath his tongue, and he has to fight the urge to bite down.

Touching you like this is different when he knows he’ll never lose you. You’re his forever.

His lips press against the sensitive spot below your ear, and the short moan escaping you just about sends him up the wall. When he pulls away to get a good look at you, your eyes are dark, lips already swollen from the way he kissed you.

He tries to catch his breath while he silently asks you if this is what you want. You nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Standing, he lifts you up until your legs are secure around his waist, and he grabs your ass with one hand and the back of your head with the other.

Mouths attached, he doesn’t separate from you until he’s setting you down on his bed. He barely has time to appreciate the candles you lit in here, too, the soft scent of vanilla flooding his senses. You already try to push his T-shirt up, anything to feel his skin on yours. He obliges, pulling it over his head before returning to kissing you like his life depended on it. When your hands find the button on his jeans, he grabs your wrist.

“Patience, baby.” Chenle runs his fingers up and down your thigh. “We have the rest of our lives. Let me take my time with you tonight.”

Just like that, you’re putty in his hands. He smirks at the realization. Sneaking his touch up your leg, the hem of the dress moves to accommodate him. He stops when he feels the lace of your panties.

“Did you dress up for me twice, sunshine?” he hums.

“Always,” you say, shamelessly staring at his lips. “Do you love me, Chenle?”

His whole body vibrated from those words. They made him feel at a frequency he hadn’t quite reached yet, and all he wanted to do was rip that damn dress off.

“More than anything.”

He can’t really say it’s ‘like second nature’ anymore. There’s nothing second about it. This is you. Anything to do with you is first nature, no matter what it is. His world revolves around you, everything he does is based on what you want, and he wouldn’t change that in any way.

“Show me,” you whisper, so intoxicating he almost crumbles to his knees right in front of you.

How embarrassing that all it takes is two words to have him give in to you. He’s straining against his pants now, his cock aching to be free and buried inside you.

“Don’t worry. I will.” He kisses you again, soft and sweet like his hand isn’t so, so close to your dripping, eager core. Heat radiates from you, and all he wants is to be consumed by it.

He drags your panties down your legs, nails gently scratching your skin on the way down. Your chest rises and falls quickly as you try to regain your breath, but he loves the way you’re so desperate for him. The way you want him just as much as he wants you.

He doesn’t want to be patient anymore. Every cell in his body is urging him to connect with yours, but he wants to take care of you. That side of him always wins, otherwise both of you would probably be done already.

His finger dances along your entrance. He inhales sharply as your wetness coats his skin. You move your hips toward him, practically begging him for stimulation. He teasingly nudges your clit, pleasantly surprised by the way your body jolts.

Mouth brushing yours, he takes the second of distraction to slide two fingers inside you. As your lips part to release a moan, he mirrors the action, eyes fluttering shut as he slowly, slowly thrusts his hand.

Your walls squeeze so hard, he curses. He could fuck you a thousand times, and you’d still be as tight as you are right now. His heart goes straight into overdrive, but all the blood in his body is shooting down to his cock. He’s painfully hard, rocking back and forth gently.

He kisses you, lips working against yours in a perfect harmony. Your sounds are his favorite. He loves knowing it’s him making you feel this way, that he has the power to make your knees weak and your pussy throb.

He lets out a moan when he scissors his fingers, trying his best to prepare you. God, you’re so warm and wet and tight, he isn’t sure if he’ll be able to last long tonight. His pace quickens, sounds of your slickness filling the room.

You call out his name, back arching as you grasp desperately at his shoulders. He leans in and kisses your cheek, making sure to press his palm into your clit every time he’s knuckle deep. 

“You’re perfect, baby,” he whispers with his lips against your ear, voice rough. “I love you so much. So fucking much.”

You tense, pussy clamping down hard on his fingers as your hips buck. He swears he can see the pleasure running up your spine in the way you arch and shake. Your nails dig into his shoulders, but he’s not in the right mind to care. Your mouth opens, sounds pouring out as you finish. He loves you all the time, but one of his favorite looks on you is when he watches you orgasm—your face so overcome with pleasure he caused…he would never get enough of it.

He keeps moving until he’s sure you’ve come down from your high. When he brings his fingers up to his mouth to suck your juices off, you watch longingly, the dark look in your gaze enough to have his cock twitching in his pants.

You slide off the bed, forcing him to take a couple steps back. He’s not sure what you’re going to do at first. Your struggle to reach your zipper, and as much as he wants to bend you over with the dress still on, he wants to be gentle with you tonight. He doesn’t get to make love to you often, and that’s all he’s going to do tonight.

Instead of watching you attempt to reach it, he turns you around and pulls you to him until your back is against his chest. His hand is splayed out across your stomach, holding you so you feel how hard he is.

“I’m going crazy,” you mutter, dropping your head back. “I need you so bad.”

He moves your hair out of his way, kissing the base of your neck quickly before he unzips you. Moving slowly on purpose, he lets his finger drag along your spine on the way down. You shiver, pushing yourself back into him.

“I’m gonna make love to you.” He finally lets himself bite down on your shoulder as he nudges the straps down. “For the rest of our lives. Nobody but me.”

“Nobody but you,” you respond, allowing the dress to pool at your feet.

He turns you around, hands immediately finding your ass and squeezing it. Within seconds, he has your bra unclasped and across the room. “So beautiful.”

When your hands find his jeans, he doesn’t stop you this time. You push them down his legs, desperate to have him inside you. Once his jeans are off, you palm him through his boxers, and he needs you so badly, that simple touch almost finishes him off. That would’ve been embarrassing.

He takes off the remaining fabric separating you two before leading you over to the bed. You lie in the middle, and he climbs on top of you. He kisses you passionately, tongue already dancing with yours, both of you more than ready. His cock is so hard, he’s only half convinced he won’t cum as soon as he’s in.

He nudges your clit with his leaking tip, moving down to your entrance to apply just enough pressure before pulling away. You whine, desperate for more.

“Chenle, please.”

His head dips down as he continues teasing you, wrapping his lips around your nipple. You whimper, running your fingers through his hair. Having you so desperate for him makes him want to give you everything you’re asking for, but something makes him wait.

“Please,” you cry out, lifting your hips up. “Need you.”

He’s ready to fall apart from you words alone. Pulling away from your chest, he reaches down to line himself up with you. He watches you closely as he pushes his throbbing cock into your quivering pussy. Your eyes roll back as you arch into him.

Your walls swallow him, velvet clamping down on him. He clenches his jaw as he bottoms out and fists the sheets next to your head.

“So perfect,” he whispers, kissing your jawline.

One of his favorite things about you is how unafraid you are to look at him. Pleasure weighs on your eyelids, and you try your best not to close them, but even like this, you never look away.

He’s fully inside you, his cock seated within your fluttering walls. The last thing he wants to do is overwhelm you, so he gently rocks his hips to help you adjust. He kisses you everywhere he can reach.

“You always take me so well,” he praises you, nipping the base of your neck.

He’ll never get over how perfectly he fits between your legs, like this space was made for him.

“Move,” you tell him, smacking his shoulder.

He lets out a soft chuckle, but lowers his mouth to yours as he starts a steady pace. You squeeze him so tight, it’s like your body doesn’t want to let him out of you. He pulls out until his tip is barely inside, and then pushes back in just as slowly. It wreaks havoc on your body, your wetness squelching every time he moves.

He wants you to feel all of him. Feel the entirety of his cock rubbing your walls with every thrust.

Somehow, it’s hotter this way. A thin sheen of sweat covers his skin as he takes his time with you. Sure, he gets sweaty when he fucks you, but nothing compares to the close intimacy of love making—his chest brushing against yours with every thrust, long, sweet moans filling the otherwise quiet bedroom.

“You sing so pretty,” Chenle mutters, tonguing the sensitive spot below your ear. “You like the way I feel?”

Before he can even process what you’re doing, you wrap your legs around his waist and roll until you’re on top of him. He’s flat on his back, eyes flitting along your body like he hasn’t had a real chance to see it yet.

Candle light illuminates your skin, and the sight makes his cock twitch. He runs his hands along your sides, squeezing your hips.

Chenle likes being in control. He likes guiding you in a way that has you both in shambles by the end, and he truly underestimated how beautiful you’d look on top of him. You lift up, teasing him as slow as he was moving with you, but between the sight and the feeling, he feels an all too-familiar tingling sensation at the base of his length.

It’s too soon for him, so he decides to tug you down, holding you there while his eyes close and his head thuds against the mattress. He doesn’t need to say a word to you.

“Chenle.” You stroke a hand down his chest. “It’s okay. You don’t need to hold back for me.”

“Just…need a second.” He gulps.

When he finally catches his breath, he sits up, chest pressing against yours.

“This was supposed to be about you,” he says, moving back slightly to fit his hand between the two of you. “Showing you my love and everything.”

He finds your clit with his thumb, staring at you intently as your wetness makes it easy for him to rub circles. His other hand still firmly grips your waist, which only allows you to squirm instead of bouncing on him like you crave to do.

“I need to move,” you whimper, grinding down. “Please.”

He nods, loosening his grip on you. You brace yourself on his shoulders, finally taking his cock the way you want it. His nails dig into your thigh while he continues his work on your bud, and it only spurs you on. You move faster, no doubt trying to chase your orgasm.

His moans get louder, matching yours. If his hands weren’t so occupied, he’d want to squeeze your ass or tweak your nipples. Anything to bring you higher. He changes the patterns his thumb rubs, and it’s like a jolt of electricity runs through your body.

You curse, dropping your head on his shoulder as you nod. “Don’t stop, Lele.”

With both of you hanging so close to the edge, he waits until you’re sitting back down on his cock to buck his hips up. He doesn’t want to finish first, but he’s so close, all the warning signs of his impending high are getting far too real.

“Gonna cum,” he tells you, releasing your thigh to grab your ass.

Your walls clamp down on him hard, a long, pleasured sound escaping you as you grind down on him. Back arching, your head falls back. Your orgasm hits both you and Chenle like a freight train, and within seconds, everything inside him explodes, and he’s spilling his cum deep inside you while telling you over and over again that he loves you.

You crumple into his chest. He runs his fingers through your hair, whispering praises to you between head kisses.

“I’m gonna lay you down, sunshine,” he says.

You nod, and he turns you so he can put your back on the mattress. He carefully pulls out of you, putting his boxers back on before going into the bathroom to grab you a towel. This is one of his favorite ways to see you. Your eyes are closed, hands on your cheeks. You look like he’s fucked all the energy out of you, and he loves that he has the capability to do that.

He cleans you up, then grabs a clean pair of panties for you and one of his T-shirts.

“I have an idea,” he says.

“What is it?” You wrap your arms around him.

“You pick whatever movie you want, and I’ll go warm up your dinner?” He raises his eyebrows at you.

You fake a gasp. “Are you saying you’re going to feed me in bed?”

“After all of that, I’d agree to just about anything you want.” He chuckles when you shove his shoulder. Grabbing your hand, he twirls the band on your finger. “Wait here for me?”

When he walks out of the room, he stops at the doorway to watch you excitedly lunge for the remote. It doesn’t take long for him to warm up the food, turn off the lights, and blow out the candles in the kitchen.

The rest of the night is spent with the two of you sitting against the headboard, laughing along to your favorite movie while eating your favorite takeout. So many thoughts have come and gone from Chenle’s brain in the past couple days alone, but he’s more than happy he gets to sit here with you every night for the rest of his life.

He’s lost in your laugh and the way you smile at him and how you make his heart race with the simplest things. None of the other members knew about the ring he bought you, but he’ll tell them soon.

After the food is gone, Chenle cleans it up. There’s still half a movie left, so when he gets back, he pulls the comforter back so you can cuddle up to him for the remainder. Even though the candles have long since been put out, vanilla still clouds the air.

“Love you,” Chenle whispers, kissing your temple.

“Love you, too.” You sigh in content, resting your head on his chest.

He knows that means you’re only seconds from sleep, and he rubs your arm soothingly. The movie continues to play, but neither of you are paying attention anymore—you’re asleep, and Chenle’s thinking about what kind of wedding dress you’ll wear.

[fluffypinkhedgehog]

❀⊱The First Date⊰❀ ⤷Silver The Hedgehog | fluff, one shot, request

summary: Silver takes you out on a date.

warnings: none! all fluff!

a/n: GIRL. YOU KNOW THAT I DON'T FORCE MYSELF TO DO SHITE HAHAHA. FR though, your request was AMAZING. I just HAD to get it done. I. Was. INSPIRED!! THANK YOU FOR THE FOOD, BESTIE!!

P.S: Yes, I did block your main tumblr. I'm in on the secret ☆⌒(ゝᴗ ∂)

(Insert GIF here.)

The day is beautiful. The sun is shining, barely a cloud can be seen in the sky. Small tweety birds chirp as they fly past on a warm wind that's barely a whisper, tousling the silver quills of a nervous hedgehog. All of the signs of spring coming to a close and summer just begining.

Silver, the said hedgehog, bounces his leg as he sits at a metal table outside of The Quaint Cafe, waiting for his date. That date was you. His head rested against his hands, his mouth pursed and eyebrows scrunched in thought. Silver was early to his date, exceptionally early. He wanted to be there before you did, but ended up at the cafe a sheer two hours earlier than what was agreed.

Silver looked up at the street clock, the longest hand slowly ticking away the seconds. Five minutes until the agreed time. He looks back down to the table, shifting in his seat. Silver fidgets with his hands, his mind racing a mile a minute.

'What if they don't like me?' Silver questions to no one. 'What if they only agreed to meet because I was so insistent?' Silver twiddled his thumbs, looking back and forth between the street clock and his hands.

A little clink brings Silver back to reality. He looks up from his hands to see a small teacup in front of him. He looks up a little bit more to see... You. You're wearing your favorite "sun outfit", as you called it once. A cute little blue sundress and a woven wide brim sunhat. Silver looks back at the clock. It's still five minutes until the meet time. He got up from his chair quickly, accidentally bumping the table and almost making the teacup topple over.

"Oh! Um! I'm sorry," he says, his hands outward in a steady motion. You giggle at his goofiness. He looks back up at you, eyes bright in excitement but his face also showing confusion. "You're early!"

"I am!" You say in an enthusiastic way. "I had a feeling I was keeping you waiting." You grabbed onto your dress, moving towards the other chair at the table. Silver quickly moved behind you and scootched the chair out for you. You thanked him before continuing: "How long were you waiting here?"

Silver gave a nervous sound as he thought of what to say. 'Crap, what do I say? I can't say I've been waiting here for two hours!' "... Two hours?" Silver realized what he said right before he sat down. His face went slightly pale as he scootched himself up to the table. 'Wait, hold on, I wasn't supposed to say that!'

The look on your face said it all: complete shock. 'Oh, man. Now I really messed it up!'

"I... Wow. I've never had someone do that for me before. I'm touched." You moved your hand to your chest, above your heart, and had a slight blush on your face that had changed from a shocked expression to a flattered one.

As the conversation lulled, a smell wafted up to Silver's nose. It smelled sweet, familiar... It smelled like warm apples! He looked down at the teacup he almost knocked over, noticing the scent came from it. Was it apple tea? "Did you... get this for me?" He asked. You nodded.

"Mhm. I heard you had a fondness for apples, so I ordered apple tea for you." The smile on your face was genuine and a kind sparkle shone in your eye, almost akin to the soft sunlight in the morning.

"That's so sweet of you... But what about your drink?" Silver's eyebrow scrunched upwards. He didn't want to be the only one with a drink. 'Since you got mine... Maybe I should buy you yours?' He thought.

"Don't worry, I got myself something fancy," you said, lightly waving a hand in dismissal. "Besides, I wanted to treat you. You're cute."

'Cute? They think I'm cute?' "Well, thanks! You're cute too! The color of your hair really brings out your eyes. I like it!"

"Oh, you're too sweet, Silver." You lean forward, your grin never leaving your face. The woven hat on your head slightly bending in the light wind, catching Silver's eye and reminding him of something.

"Say, you wear that hat a lot. It must be sentimental to you, where did you get it?"

"Oh, I do, don't I?" You put your hand on your head, feeling the ribbon that goes around the crown. "I got it from a childhood friend." Resting your hands back on the table, your gaze becomes melancholy for a mere moment before returning back to cheerful.

"Maybe I can meet them someday!" Silver responds brightly.

"Possibly!" You shrug, eyebrows raised. You lean back down on your elbows. "So, Silver," you start. "You never told me. What do you do for a living?"

"Oh! I'm a..." Silver trails off. 'Wait, I can't tell them I'm a time traveler, can I?' "Traveler!"

"So you're like Sonic? I guess being a hero pays the bills in its own way."

"I wouldn't consider myself a hero like Sonic is," he laughs nervously.

"No? How come? You save a lot of people. Heck, you even saved me a few times."

"I'm just a guy who's willing to step up is all!" Silver smiles goofily, cratching the back of his head. "Oh, look, your order is here."

A waitress approached, holding a parfait and some silverware. "Sorry it took a while. Here's your order."

"Thank you," you say as the waitress sets it down in front of you before leaving.

"What did you get?" Silver asked. You took the spoon and dug it into the parfait, scooping it into your mouth. You seemed to be in bliss from the taste.

"A parfait! It's not really a drink, but it's fancy!"

"It looks fancy!" Silver took a sip from the tea you got for him. It was a bit bitter, and slightly cold now, but it definitely tasted like apples!

The two of you chatted away the hours, the sun slowly crawling across the sky. Neither of you noticed the time getting away from you.

"Oh, goodness. Look at the time," you say, looking at your watch. Silver looks up at the street clock.

"Oh, yeah, you're right. It is late."

"Today was a lot of fun, Silver." You grab your bag, getting up from your seat. Silver follows suit.

"Can I walk you home?"

You look at him, a bit surprised before it melts into another smile. It seems like the both of you have been smiling nonstop all day. Silver's cheeks hurt from it. "My, how chivalrous! You might as well sweep me off my feet like a knight in shining armor."

"I'd do it any day!" You giggle at Silver's bold claim.

The two of you walk down the street, cars passing by. Silver's walking on the outside of the sidewalk, close to you. He looks to you from the corner of his eye as you both walk in silence. He can't help but think about how cute you are. 'Out of the two of us, they're definitely the cuter one.'

You slowly come to a stop, pointing at a building "This is my apartment."

"Oh, wow. I didn't think you lived in the city center." For some reason, it struck him as familiar.

"Yeah, it makes commuting easier." You walk up the stairs and turn around. You're slightly taller than Silver now, he has to look up at you. "Thanks for walking me home."

"It's no problem."

"Say, Silver... Would you like to go on another date?"

"Another date?" 'Did she enjoy it that much?'

"Mhm. How about we go minigolfing?"

"Minigolfing?"

"Have you never heard of it before?"

"I can't say that I have." Silver shakes his head.

"Well... It's easier to show than explain. How about next week? We'll meet at the cafe again."

Silver nods. "Sure, that works for me."

"Great!" You lean down, kissing Silver on the forehead. 'Huh?!' "Thank's for the lovely date, Silver. I had a lot of fun." You turn towards the apartment complex's main entrance, opening the door with your keys. "Good night."

"Good... Good night." Silver waves as you disappear behind the door. He turns around, his limbs feeling like Jelly.

'Was that... Confirmation?! She likes me?' "Yes!" Silver yelled, twirling in the air with his telekenisis powers.

He couldn't wait for next week.

@affinitytales

[physics-of-one-piece]

AIGHT I'M DONE AND THERE ARE TEARS OF HAPPINESS ON MY FACE SO SPOILERS FOR CH 20 OF CORAZON'S FLOWER SHOP by @allmightskitten BELOW.

BESTIE, YOU COOKED!

NAKED DOFFY NAKED DOFFY NAKED DOFFY NAKED NAKED DOFFY WOOF WOOF I WANNA KISS HIM.

Move Monet if you don't want to see naked Doffy let us brave ones do it (shoves Monet out the way) NAKED DOFFY BATHING NAKED DOFFY OH MY GOD HE'S SO HOT OH LORD HELP AAAAAAA I LOVE HIM 🥵🥵🥵😍😍😍😳😳😳😳

Idk why but Doffy noticing the cracks in the walls as he bathes is so cute bcs yeh what the fuck why are there cracks in his new house? (Maybe his Conqueror Haki made them ahahahahaha!) Idk he felt relatable there cus like same, I would feel the same way if I paid a million or more dollars for a villa and it has a fckn crack on the ceiling I would unlock Conqueror Haki just for that.

Mmmm... Doffy beating Vergo into the ground, tossing Vergo like a ragdoll, Doffy not smiling at all, Doffy grabbing Vergo by the neck and beating Vergo unconscious within an hour and nearly killing him and Vergo being unconsciouss for five hours...

I was squirming and not from fear.

DO IT AGAIN, KING. CANON DOFFY IS SO HOT.

Law & Cora oh I was so nervous I was sweating.

"You aren't something I regret, Law!"

Oh. Oh. Yep. I'm crying. Dammit.

"How can I regret the one thing I did with my life that ever amounted to anything? The idea that you were going to live was the only thing that brought me any peace in my final moments."

Donquixote Rosinante, the man that you are. My god. I love him. So much. I'm crying but from happiness. He is so... I love him.

Also... I am so so attracted to how Rosinante like admits his mistakes and admitting how he feels guilty how he didn't help Doffy and everything else. That is so ATTRACTIVE in a man. We love a man who admits to his mistakes!

UF, CORA, YOU'RE SO HOT.

The Doffy snorting cocaine off Rosinante picture really did not help Rosinante I am cackling. FUCKING VERGO ASSHOLE 🤣🤣🤣 Honestly, yeah, I'd lie, too!

...and we get a flashback of Doffy and why Vergo is a fckn idiot.

AND I THROW UP IN MY MOUTH AND WANT TO KILL TREBOL AND DIAMANTE.

Doffy is fourteen you keep him out of Red Light District are they fucking INSANE?!

Did they... can this be called peer pressure and dubious consent? I just felt this deep sinking feeling in my gut oh god it was so uncomfortable writing 10000/10 I felt dread.

As though moving through water, Doffy turned to him slowly. There was something indistinguishable in the set of his shoulders and the his jaw. His voice was laced with that same emotion. "Vergo, why..." It looked like there was more he wanted to say, words collecting in his throat that weren't leaving. If Vergo didn't know any better, he would have interpreted it an expression of fear or uncertainty, or a call for help– like Doffy was silently pleading with him to say something– '"You're supposed to be on my side," he'd said earlier, calling it like an accusation. He almost believed that was it. He got dangerously close. Maybe Doffy was afraid, for whatever reason, and Vergo was the only real ally he had, and he was supposed to take his side.

HE WAS AFRAID, "A CALL FOR HELP" OH MY GOD I AM GONNA KILL TREBOL & DIAMANTE I AM GONNA KILL THEM. HE NEEDED YOUR HELP YOU STUPID IDIOT VERGO OH MY FUCKING GOD THAT FCKN IDIOT I AM LITERALLY CRYING. I could see Doffy turning I could hear him my baby 😭😭 nooo 😭😭😭

That "Vergo, why..." Just fckn broke me. I'm crying.

Doffy was fourteen. Oh my God, I'm gonna kill Trebol & Diamante.

"Some things are only meant for adults."

"He could get hurt."

Oh my god I'm crying, I'm crying.

Pica is the only normal one, oh god fuck fuck fuck

Nooo. Fuck.

What have they done, oh my god I feel sick no Doffy poor Doffy - GIVE ME THE GUM-GUM FRUIT I'M GOING GEAR FIVE I'M GOING GEAR FIVE -

I'm crying 😭😭😭

Well, now I know the art of Doffy crying was over that, I'm crying. That's fucked up. Poor Doffy, he didn't want to go. Fucking MORONS.

I feel like I'm gonna throw up.

Fuck yeah, Doffy, kick Vergo's stupid fucking ass. Fckn beat him into the ground. What a fckn waste of brain matter Vergo is holy fuck.

I think, so based on this, I genuinely think now Canon Doffy realises Vergo will never be what he needed him to genuinely be. His best friend. To be on his side. To treat him normally.

Hakugan eating whipped cream and strawberries, that's my guy! High-five Hakugan that is the best dessert to have now that it's summer, HIGH FIVE! MY MAN!

Sth sth Cora making Law hot chocolate since always sth sth tears streaming down my face.

Cora really needs to embrace that he is sexually attracted to his brother and just go for it. If he doesn't fuck his brother, I will fuck his brother. Multiple times a day! In several different positions!

But of all the things across the four seas, incest?

Even Law is onto them bahahahahahaha 🤣🤣🤣 I like how Law is like "is that what they do in Mariejois" 🤣🤣🤣

Law having Conqueror Haki is sth I very desparately NEED.

Cora not having any Haki aww 🥺 Don't worry, Cora, Luffy & Law (& Doffy) got you! You just sit down, sip some tea and be pretty, you adorable man. YOU'RE STILL HOT TO ME, ROSINANTE!

Whenever Cora mentions Luffy and I remember Cora met him and knows him my heart fills with not just sunlight but the entire SUN. I can't describe it. It makes me so so so fckn HAPPY. Cora & Luffy are the goof duo, yes they are, my adorable munchkins who will go feral when need be.

Cora & Luffy vs Vergo when? WHEN? GIVE IT TO ME.

Let's be real, Canon Luffy would one shot the bamboo bastard. 🤣 They are SOO lucky Canon Luffy isn't there. SO LUCKY.

...he'd already be busting into Doflamingo's office smashing the doors down and yelling "MINGOOO! IF YOU HURT CORAO, I'M GONNA KICK YOUR ASS FOR THE SECOND TIME!" He would, he would. Who needs planning and scheming when you got a Luffy? 🤣

"Let's work together."

LAW! 🥹🥹 AAAAAAAAAA

(sighs wistfully) Cora beating up the doctors for Law is also hot.

"You sure about that, old man? How much are you willing to bet on it?" Corazón scoffed. "I'll bet whatever you want. And who the hell are you calling old?" Law felt a thrill in his blood at the world of possibilities that opened up. He had never been more certain of his odds. Corazón's pockets were going to be several thousands of Beri short by the time they gave up and went home.

Damn Law calling Rosi who was 26 old! RIGHT IN THE GUT. OUCH. Kids are merciless 😭😭😭

"Thank you," Corazón said once he was finished. He examined the fresh wrappings with a look like admiration in his eyes. "I really appreciate it, Law. You did such a good job, too!"

CORA MY LOVE 🤧🤧 He's such a dad! And Law helping him with his wounds!

Corazón's makeup didn't look that ghostly when he smiled.

(sighs) (dials a number)

"Hello, Marine Emergency Line, what's your emergency?"

"Hi, I'm in love with Donquixote Rosinante and need to marry him ASAP."

"You and everyone else in the world.”

The line hung up.

"Wow. Rude."

ROSI'S SMILE I WILL FIGHT FOR IT, I WILL DIE FOR IT.

So Law didn't know why he came to believe, in those circumstances, that his fate wasn't hopeless after all. Maybe it was Corazón's– no, Cora-san's– front of relentless optimism. Maybe it was simply down to the fact that he didn't feel alone in his pursuit to secure a longer life. Even when Cora-san's spirits wavered, he never left, and never suggested they give up. Once he stopped protesting and resisting, he got to see a much friendlier side of Cora-san, too. Since they were no longer arguing about the futility of this journey, they could talk about other things. Medical curiosities. Frogs. Bugs. The Germa 66 Comics. Constellations in the sky. Cora-san patiently listened to him go on and on, only making him stop if he started looking sickly, and draped his feather coat over him like a blanket when it was time to rest.

THEY TALK ABOUT THE GERMA COMICS MY BABIES. YOU ARE REALLY GOING FOR MY HEART WITH ALL THESE ROSI & LAW FLASHBACKS MY HEART!

Law climbed onto his back, fastening his arms around his shoulders and his knees over the crooks of his elbows. Exhaustion crept up on him as they began the trek towards a more populated town. The world swayed gently, like a melodic lullaby putting him to sleep. Law wasn't concerned about what the next day would bring. He closed his eyes believing Cora-san's silly, optimistic reassurances. He was actually starting to believe that Cora-san would somehow save him in the end.

NOBODY. FUCKING. TOUCH ME. Carrying Law on his back & Law falling sleep without any worries...

Oh. My. God. Aaaaaa 🥹🥹🥹

he was actually starting to believe Cora-san would somehow save him in the end

My. Fucking. Heart.

And he did save you, Law! He did! 😭😭😭😭🤧🤧🤧

CORA & LAW'S JOURNEY MY HEART MY HEART MY HEAAAART

Law waking up still thinking he was in the One Piece world and panicking cus Cora isn't there oh my HEART

His chin on his shoulder reminded him of being slung around like a sack of potatoes. Cora-san would have trouble executing that maneuver now.

This little detail made me smile I felt so warm.

"You betrayed Doflamingo because of me." Despite the brash confidence in his new verdict pushing him forward, Law's voice wavered. "Made the stupid choice to steal the Op-Op Fruit. Then you lied that everything was going to be okay, and got yourself killed so I could escape."

"Because you saved me, I met my first crewmates. I managed to not be completely insufferable, because remembering you made me happy, and actually made friends. And I– just kept going. Thanks to you."

I got goosebumps and my heart feels so warm. And yeah, I'm crying, shut up.

"You were my strength whenever I needed it. You saved me more than once."

"After all that, Cora-san," Law resisted the urge to reach out, needing to see the expression on his face, to be sure that everything he said was landing. "Does anything else really matter? I don't think so anymore. I don't give a fuck."

"So let's work together and fix your problem this time. You didn't ask me to be alone. I don't want you to be, either."

I love Law. I don't say it enough, but I love Law. With all my heart and soul, be he baby boy or man, I am so proud of him.

There were tears on his cheeks. They bled his eyeballs dry in uncontrollable rivulets.

CORA & LAW HUGGING AND BOTH OF THEM CRYING and finally making up FINALLY FINALLY I'M CRYING WITH THEM. 😭😭😭

I think I have a type, your honour. No, I don't need help, your honour. I fully and consciously will let the Donquixote Brothers tag team me and be sandwiched between them. I have two hands for a reason! And other nsfw stuff but I shall control myself.

Sabo & Koala are adorable I ship them so much.

Also, Tsuru still going to a meeting with Canon Doffy boooy the amount of "I guess we meet in any life, huh, my dear Tsuru? Seems in this one I did almost get my wish to fuck you." 🤣🤣🤣 I'M SORRY. (No, I'm not.) and reporting to Rosinante that Doffy got CH awoken here.

Boy, their meeting is gonna be... I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT WILL BE. OH I CAN'T WAIT. I need them to hug. I need them to cry.

The fact Doffy's & Rosi's regrets are each other... MY HEART 🥹❤️

Doffy finally messaged. Oh boy.

Law. Law! My baby! He's gonna help! He's gonna help! Hell yeah! 🎉🎉

I will never get tired of the descriptions of Doffy's Conqueror Haki. "Bones folding in fear"

He can fold me in half any time 😉😉 (Sorry, I am so sorry. No I'm not.)

Law is coming with Rosinante. I love how Law glares at him and says "in your fucking dreams." Hell yeah, Law, I'm with you!

He's efficient. Rosi couldn't help feeling a stab of pride, even if it was ultimately to his detriment.

HECK YESH, BE PROUD OF YOUR BOY, ROSI!

This is good. This is safe.

AHAHAHAHA ROSI being not tech savvy and Law having to tell him about satellite maps, yes, I love it!

"Ah." Rosi watched with no small degree of fascination as his young charge started to pull up aerial views of the location right from his phone. "Why do I feel like I'm falling behind?" Law glanced up with a familiar shit-eating grin. "Because you are. Keep up, old man." Rosi choked. What was that? Dejá vu? He was reminded of long nights by a small campfire, wrapping his knuckles in bandages while drowning out the sounds of Law protesting their journey. He was so annoyingly stubborn. It didn't feel like so long ago. "Hey, who are you calling old..."

Law's grin, and the deja vu? I LOVE THEM I LOVE THEM! GO CORA & LAW GO GO GO! 🎉🎉🎉🎉

Doffy & Vergo, Doffy is still hot I fear. ALSO HE CAN USE ARMAMENT HAKI TOO ARE YOU KIDDING ME? DOFFY STOP BEING SO SEXY!

Somebody get Luffy here!

Doffy smoking a cheap cigarette... Idk why but it feels like foreshadowing. Idk why. That's just the vibe I'm getting

Weighed down by metal. Doflamingo's Haki. It's stronger, he realised with awe. More pronounced. Better than it ever was before. And he seemed to be able to wield it as naturally as breathing, without so much as consciously activating it, like an omnipresent energy that ebbed and flowed but never went away.

THAT. IS. SO. FCKN. HOT. SO IT'S JUST FLOWING AROUND HIM.

That's SO FUCKING HOT!

"Would you?" Doflamingo turned around now, his back against the railing. His eyes were hidden behind dark glasses, but the sneer on his face was plainly visible. "You didn't apologise for letting me celebrate my first poster at a brothel. If there was a good excuse for it, you wouldn't have stopped me from fucking my own brother."

FUCK YEAH YOU TELL HIM DOFFY

Doffy agreeing with Trebol's methods is a fckn lie. He hated going to that brothel. He should NOT have gone there, the adults should not have taken him. HE WAS FOURTEEN, FOR GOD'S SAKE!

Monet's reaction was literally me.

Monet's experiences said that it did not check out. He agreed with an idea to celebrate a child's first bounty at a whorehouse? When Baby 5 got her first poster, Doffy had thrown her a fucking tea party. Buffalo was given permission to live out his dream of eating nothing but cake for a week. Since she wasn't technically part of the Family, Monet's reward had been quieter: a pretty knife with an intricate handle to keep in her boot for self-defense.

HA!

OH SWEET SWEET "I WAS RIGHT!" Feeling

A TEA PARTY FOR BABY 5 DOFFY YOU SWEETHEART 🥹🥹🥹 I so wish to have attended that tea party awwww. I LOVE YOU DOFFY! Letting Buffalo eat cakes for an entire week! Getting Monet a knife for self-defence!

I FOUND PAPA DOFFY! DON'T ARREST HIM! HE DID NOTHING WRONG!

Do arrest Vergo, Trebol & Diamante, though.

Oh, Doflamingo was not gonna let any childhood trauma or underage sex or peer pressure touch his kiddies and no sex until they were 18 until he gave them a full ass TALK. Most reponsible captain with kids right there letting them be kids and doing his best to protect them from crazy shit, I don't accept arguments.

The dissonance was so egregious that the alternative jumped out at her like a gaping wound. Cracks. It was like there were cracks in the past he remembered, inconsistencies he hadn't fully rationalised before. Perhaps losing his memories for a time and gaining them back was allowing him to view them in a brand new light, one that particularly shed on all the cracks he had not noticed the first time– in who and what he fundamentally was. If he really had not changed, would he be able to acknowledge them? Feel free to?

YES. YES, DOFFY. YES YES YES.

What happens eight hours from now when he confronts Corazón. It would probably say a lot. Along with one other thing. What the name on my assignment means. Even though Monet had too much self-preservation to gamble, she had a gut feeling that her assignment wasn't as removed from the present situation as it seemed.

RIP, Vergo. You're done, buddy. It's over.

WE ARE GONNA WIN, DQ BROTHERS NATION! WE ARE GONNA WIN! WE ARE BLOWING FIREWORKS AT 1PM! WE ARE GONNA WIN, WE ARE GONNA WIN WE ARE GONNA FUCKING WIN! 😤😤😤😤

Donquixote Brothers are so back!

Let's goo! Fight for your brother, Doffy! Fight for your brother, Rosi! Fight for Cora-san, Law!

GOOOOO!

🎉🎉🎉

I loved loved loved this chapter! So much! Aaaa so many tears and smiling and "bring Gear 5 Luffy to kick their ass" moments, I love love love this. So beautifully, intricately written! Aaaaa I love this chapter!

CONGRATS ON 20 CHAPTERS! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

A big shoutout to my girl Lami for making sure Rosinante speaks from the heart and not just make excuses and apologies. Lami, you are a hero.

[captainofthedauntless]

More Rise!Nardo thoughts.

Just thinking about how he'd abuse the fuck out of his portal abilities with you. Always offering to be your "ride" when you need to go somewhere, using it as an excuse to see you for just a minute when you're busy. The classic you're upset? oh lol i just Happened To Pop By A Shop, Here, Your Favorite Snacks.

He'd show up in a heartbeat to help you move furniture, or to help you cook, or to help you speed clean because your aunt's in town all of a sudden and you cannot let her know you live like this.

You don't think anything of it, really. Because it's effortless for him. It's like getting up from the couch for how much energy it takes him.

But it gets to be a habit.

It's a pattern.

You text him after a long day, once, and you say something about being tired and not wanting to cook, and then he's in your kitchen with a crackle of blue energy and a bag of take out and a hoodie he pulls off less than five minutes later, passing it to you with an easy shrug and a nonchalant smile. Lot warmer in here than the lair, he says breezily, as though it isn't your favorite of his hoodies. As though it was an accident.

He does that a lot, you realize. Act as though calculation is coincidence.

And then you can't stop realizing it.

It's not just the portals.

It's everywhere.

He's everywhere.

He's spending enough time at your place that he just leaves his stuff there when he gets a mission call, and you end up with a stack of books and comics that you definitely didn't pick up yourself, and instead of mentioning it you just replace his horrifying whatever-he-can-find bookmarks (you find one of your bracelets there, once) with actual ones. People keep giving them to you as freebies- might as well put them to use.

Somehow he knows when you've got big appointments scheduled, and he just casually shows up the night before and complains about how you do your chores and insists on showing you how it's done, and then you blink and he's put away every dish in your kitchen, all while playfully critiquing your organization. And, like magic, you're free to sit down and relax, because evidently your sweeping technique is also tragic, no, no, give me that, you're- you're banished, that's abysmal, and feet off the ground- don't care, it needs swept, go on.

Crazy how his movie night picks are some of your favorites. Great minds think alike, eh?

And then 'huh, Leo's pretty helpful' becomes 'oh, Leo's given me impossible standards' when you wake up in the middle of the night and can't seem to catch your breath from a nightmare. You fumble for your phone and type what's supposed to say are you up? and comes out as ate yii yo? and then your phone is ringing.

He greets you with a you alright? that you think should probably be harsher than it is considering the hour, and when you manage to get the word dream out of your face he follows up with want some company?

And you must say yes, because the next thing you know is a crackle of blue energy (which should look dangerous, should feel dangerous, but looks like a playful wave and feels like home) and nearly six feet of mutant turtle dropping onto your bed, landing with a playful bounce that shakes a little of the dream-scented-sludge from your mind.

Sorry, he says, playful and grinning as he folds his arms behind his head and watches you like he can read your mind, traffic was a nightmare.

And you shake your head, because what the fuck, but you're laughing despite yourself and some of the scrutiny melts from his eyes.

Thought I'd-

Don't say drop by.

I would never, he says, but he doesn't elaborate on what he was going to say, and you draw your own conclusions. Anywhoozles, what's the vibe? Movie? Snack? Field trip to the top of the Great Wall?

And somehow he means it.

He's in your room at four in the morning, still in his pajamas, mask down around his neck, all warm and soft and sleep-shaped, and offering you the world like it was a piece of gum.

And you just stare at him, wondering if you're still dreaming.

[littlebluentebook]

Alastor x Sewing!Reader pt.4

Chapter 5

You tried to stay open 7-7 on weekdays so that way customers could come in both before and after work. This is why you were not surprised to hear the door jingle at half past five.

"Just a moment please!" you said cheerfully, attempting to finish threading your needle in full focus. "How can I help you today?" only then noticing Alastor in front of you. He was sporting his new coat and a bouquet of flowers.

"I just wanted to come visit you and say thank you for fixing my coat darling," he reached out to give you the flowers, "you will have to teach me how to make your treats as well. They were quite delicious." Alastor ate a bunch between his broadcasts spoiling his lunch but saving a few for his mother.

You smiled at that, " I am quite glad you enjoyed them! I will however be keeping that recipe to myself- its for special occasions only."

"Well then, I feel mighty special to be gifted them" Alastor quipped back at you. "How much do I owe you for the coat?"

"Not a pretty penny of yours doll! It was a favor for walking me home and letting me borrow your coat" you explained to him.

"Only if you're sure Y/N. I have got to be getting back home now, can't keep my mother waiting." he turned to the door.

"Of course! Don't worry her. Feel free to come back if you need anything else Alastor!"

"I may take you up on that my dear." With that, he walked out the door. Nothing but the flowers to signify he was ever there.

The flowers Alasor gave you were absolutely stunning. There were dark orange flowers that looked like an attempt to match the replacement lining and thread in his coat. To compliment there were soft pink and white flowers sporadically place in the bouquet. You went upstairs to your kitchen and brought down a vase for the flowers. Wanting to show off their beauty, you placed them on the center table of your shop. Here, you regularly cycled items such as tops, socks, mittens, scarves and other small items. You went around the shop and into your storage to find other colors that matched the flowers. On the table the flowers stood tall above the garments, all table colors matching.

The week went by quickly, Alastor's voice and memories both accompanying you while you sewed. You created lots of lace for the dresses Mimzy ordered. Next week you were supposed to stop by and take all of her performers measurements to actually start putting pieces together. Countless hours were also spent pre-beading and cutting fabric so all that had to be done was cutting and sewing to match sizes.

By the time Friday rolled around you were excited to leave the shop and go to Mimzy's. The nervous feeling was no longer there. You had Anne, Mimzy, and now Alastor to keep you company while enjoying the night.

"Y/N dear! Alastor and I were just talking about you!" Mimzy said with enthusiasm.

"Good things I can only hope?"

"Of course! He was just showing me how you fixed his tacky coat. I have been telling for ages he just needs a new one. He has appearances to up keep! It looks better now than when he first bought it."

You didn't know what to do with all the praise but it warmed your hear to know that people recognized your talents and were impressed with them.

"I just did what I saw fit, I do appreciate it!"

"Good evening mon cheri" Alastor said kissing your hand.

You two changed pleasantries about your week as Mimzy went to mingle with more customers. As you finished your conversation about to ask where Mimzy went, Anne stepped on stage about to start singing.

"Would you grace me with a dance?" Alastor asked reaching his hand out towards you.

"Absolutely doll" you said gently placing your hand in his outstretched one. He helped you up and out of your seat where you were previously conversing. As Alastor led you to the dance floor a man bumped into you tearing your grasp from him.

"Oh, I'm so sorry sir, please ex-"

"I know what you did." He cut you off. "You will suffer just as he did."

You turned as white as a ghost. No no no you migrated to New Orleans to get away from your old life. How did anyone find you?

"My dear! Are you alright?" Alastor asked finding you and reaching for your hand.

"Of course, just had a little scare and lost my footing is all."

Alastor gave you an eyebrow raise but didn't pry anymore.

All things considered the dance was wonderful. You both moved in sync, eyes focused on one another. He loved to spin you around and away from him only to pull you back in close. As the song ended you found yourself in a dip, a mere breath away from Alastor.

Mimzy cleared her throat "Lovely performance from the both of you, incredibly charming."

Alastor used his hand on your lower back to pick you up and steady you on the floor. He noticed you were still shaky and looking around the room from your encounter with the strange man earlier.

"Thank you Mimzy" he answered for the both of you. "We should get heading out soon shouldn't we darling?"

The night was still young but what the man had said to you made you want to leave as soon as possible. Plus, remembering last weeks sleep hangover you agreed. Finishing goodbyes again and talking with Mimzy setting up a time for instead her performers to visit you at your shop, you and Alastor were arm in arm walking out of the door. You turned around and took one last look and there you saw the man drag his thumb across his throat. What you didn't notice was that Alastor saw the man doing the exact same thing.

[serial-serializednovelreader]

Nova's Notes - North and South - Chapter 3

Last time we saw our heroine Margaret, she had just received word that Henry Lennox had come to call on her. Let's see how it goes!

So, she is excited to see Henry, as she has just been thinking about him and his promise. Margaret is a little surprised though, since he's supposed to be off with Edith and his brother on their honeymoon.

*record scratch* Hold up, he was accompanying them on their honeymoon??? I know right! And not just him, but his uncle as well? What kind of monster is he?

Well, five seconds ago, I would've agreed with you, but I was able to find this article that points to this being a fairly common practice in order to ease the woman into the marriage (not exactly an academic source, but the first one I found). So, he's not intruding or third-wheeling, but instead helping grow the marriage. What a nice guy, right? Well...avid readers of this will know I'm not Henry's biggest fan, and in the first few sentences he -- again -- says something that raises my hackles a bit.

“'Oh!' said he, more lightly, 'our young couple were playing such foolish pranks, running all sorts of risks, climbing this mountain, sailing on that lake, that I really thought they needed a Mentor to take care of them. And indeed they did: they were quite beyond my uncle’s management, and kept the old gentleman in a panic for sixteen hours out of the twenty-four. Indeed, when I once saw how unfit they were to be trusted alone, I thought it my duty not to leave them till I had seen them safely embarked at Plymouth.'”

Oh no, our couple has done the horrible problem of -- *checks notes* -- having fun on their honeymoon...? If their version of a "prank" is ditching their relatives to get some alone time -- uh, yeah, I would too!!! I mean, I guess I can see where he's coming from on some of these points if they truly are taking dangerous risks, but it honestly sounds like they're trying to sneak in some alone time here and doing fun couple activities together. It's not good that the uncle is panicking, but his brother is in the army. Surely he's prepared for things like mountain climbing and saying they're "unfit to be alone" is quite ridiculous. If he's worried about them doing...other kinds of activities while alone...I hate to tell him, but they're already married so that ship has sailed (literally). If he's truly worried about "danger," how is he -- a lawyer -- more prepared to face it than his brother who's in the army? (Not that lawyers can't face danger, considering Jonathan from Dracula is a lawyer and he just climbed a castle wall not too long ago, but that's a different book/genre lol). Also presenting himself as a "Mentor" (capital M) is HILARIOUS to me considering a) he's younger than at least one of them and b) mentor to what? Being married??? Henry???? He probably means climbing or sailing, but my version is funnier -- just saying.

I guess he might also be kidding about some of this, which is something I should have considered but didn't because I don't pick up well on social cues (I'm like Margaret in that way: we'll get there :D). So if he is kidding, sorry about that, but if I'm to take what he's saying at face value here, he just sounds like a nuisance to the couple. He says he's now "relieved of many responsibilities" but it just sounds like he put those responsibilities on himself.

He then gives her a note from Edith and she doesn't want to read it in front of him because she "half wish[ed] to read it alone and unwatched". I find this interesting that she has to make up an excuse to get away from him here, just to do so! Is it because Margaret doesn't feel comfortable reading letters in front of people in general, or because Henry specifically causes the discomfort? Gaskell doesn't elaborate, but I'll keep an eye out for if she feels comfortable enough to read a letter in front of anyone else in a future chapter, because either could be valid.

Henry begins to look around the room in "his scrutinizing way" and notices how "poor" the place looks, even when the light is hitting it, which should make it looks its best. Then he says this (with a sigh):

"'The living is evidently as small as she said. It seems strange, for the Beresfords belong to a good family.'”

Oh, no! You've just activated a red flag!!! This whole reply is a red flag, but I want to highlight the main problem area (in my opinion) -- the "as she said". What's the problem with this?

To me, this indicates he didn't listen to her when she told him how small her living was the first time around. He assumed she was downplaying it and would come back to find something more like Harley Street. I suppose that was the fashion back then -- to act of more humble means than you were -- but here's the thing: Margaret isn't like that. She says thing as they are and if he knew her as well as he thinks, he would've taken her words at face value. I know that just from three chapters of reading about her!! If he doesn't believe this one thing she says now, how is that going to work later if they foster a relationship (again, we're getting there)? I also just don't like that Henry is pulling a surprised Pikachu face here!!! And while I know good family = wealthy in this time period, still not a great thing to say. Like, hmm her family is poor that's weird :/. He's acting like he didn't get what he wanted for Christmas or something. Definitely not the reaction I would want from a potential partner.

Margaret, meanwhile, is dealing with a problemTM. Namely, her mother. Apparently she gets into moods where everything is an Issue and Henry is considered an Issue -- so, she refuses to see him. This is a dilemma, because Margaret had told Henry that her mamma would LOVE to meet him and will meet with him shortly. I may not know much about etiquette, but I know this is a snub if she refuses to meet with him now. Plus, her dad can't help because he was already in a bad mood (seems like something we'll unravel later) and Mrs. Hale made it worse by commenting *once again* on moving, which caused him to ask her to please stop speaking against the place. So yeah, this isn't going well!

Margaret "listen[s] patiently", but she has to figure things out somehow, so she pulls a problem-solving move. She proposes that after a quick meetup with Henry and her mom (as for it not to look weird), she and Henry can go out sketching, which will mean less interaction for her mother to worry about. Then, even though they only have cold meat for lunch, they can still make that work for the meal, since light food was usually expected at the midday meal (from what I could find -- correct me if I'm wrong) and Henry will expect it that way. That's when Mr. Hale will join them, having had enough time between 10:30 and 2:00 to compose himself.

I love seeing this side of her! We've already seen glimpses, but I think it's the first time we've truly seen her go into what I would call a "problem-solving mode". I would definitely add that to her list of qualities!

"He evidently expected to be asked to spend the day, and accepted the invitation with a glad readiness that made Mrs. Hale wish she could add something to the cold beef. He was pleased with everything; delighted with Margaret’s idea of going out sketching together; would not have Mr. Hale disturbed for the world, with the prospect of so soon meeting him at dinner."

I wonder if it's apparent to everyone involved Henry wants to be asked to stay the whole day, or if it's just Mrs. Hale? It makes sense that he wants to since he said he would be checking up on what Margaret does all day. I don't know much about calling hours or social etiquette in the Victorian era, but from what I could find, he's making a "morning call". Usually a man in this situation should leave after 20 minutes. However, he's family, so I believe this allots for staying a few hours, including dinner (again, correct me if I'm wrong -- I tried to find sources for this, but there wasn't much available for a morning call from family). Does it seem interesting how eager it is how "pleased" he is by everything just after he thought about how poor the family is? Yep! But we don't have time to unpack all of that just yet.

"'Now, please, just stop here for a minute or two,' said Margaret. 'These are the cottages that haunted me so during the rainy fortnight, reproaching me for not having sketched them.' 'Before they tumbled down and were no more seen. Truly, if they are to be sketched—and they are very picturesque—we had better not put it off till next year. But where shall we sit?' 'Oh! You might have come straight from chambers in the Temple, instead of having been two months in the Highlands! Look at this beautiful trunk of a tree, which the woodcutters have left just in the right place for the light. I will put my plaid over it, and it will be a regular forest throne.' 'With your feet in that puddle for a regal footstool! Stay, I will move, and then you can come nearer this way. Who lives in these cottages?'”

I feel like this conversation parallels their awkward interaction from chapter one, though now the shoe is on the other foot. And by "shoe", I mean the whole "shutting down the conversation" thing. To be fair, this is probably Henry joking and being lighthearted, but again -- I'm having trouble reading it that way. She's trying to sketch two cottages that she thinks are pretty, but he's kind of mocking them for how decrepit they look. Fair, I guess, but the fact that she chooses to mock him by saying he's "come staight from chambers in the Temple" (which I believe is a reference to the Temple in Jerusalem and to me, signals she's mocking his loftiness) says she's not entirely happy with this either. Plus, yeah, he just spent time in the Highlands, shouldn't he be used to forest by now? And when she wants to make a "throne" out of a tree stump, he comments on the puddle on the ground. Chivalrous to ask her to get out of the way, but he's not playing along with her game of pretend like he seemed to want her to in chapter 1. I wonder what's up with that? Or maybe I'm reading this all wrong and they're both enjoying this banter -- I don't know, it's really hard for me to tell!! Keep in mind, I'm biased and don't really like Henry, so everything he says annoys me. It's a problem I'll try to work on 😂😂

She goes to talk to one of the men at the cottages, and Henry quickly takes his opportunity to add her to his sketch. Afterwards, she notices and comments on it. He replies:

“'It was irresistible. You can’t know how strong a temptation it was. I hardly dare tell you how much I shall like this sketch.' He was not quite sure whether she heard this latter sentence before she went to the brook to wash her palette. She came back rather flushed, but looking perfectly innocent and unconscious. He was glad of it, for the speech had slipped from him unawares—a rare thing in the case of a man who premeditated his actions so much as Henry Lennox."

I will admit, this is rather cute: him taking the opportunity to sketch her and then saying something without thought! It's a sweet moment and I think I would like the two of them together if they had more moments like this.

When they return back, both Mr. and Mrs. Hale are in much better spirits. Margaret sees her father and while she stresses that he's put aside his worries (they're not taken care of), she can't hide her pride at seeing him because he's always able to impress other people! What a sweetheart, love her for that.

Mr. Hale sees their sketches and when Mr. Hale sees the one Henry drew, Henry comments this:

“'I should say that a likeness you very much wish to take you would always succeed in,' said Mr. Lennox. 'I have great faith in the power of will. I think myself I have succeeded pretty well in yours.'”

I may not read social cues well, but this one I do get: I like you and want to draw you well. However, I know that because I've picked up on it after seeing Henry's inner thoughts. I'm not so surprised she doesn't get it because, as we'll see later in the chapter, she doesn't see him that way. So this compliment -- while nice -- wouldn't mean to her what he's trying to communicate. Why is this important for me to emphasize? Well, listen to what this guy says next:

“"A regular London girl would understand the implied meaning of that speech,' thought Mr. Lennox. 'She would be up to looking through every speech that a young man made her for the arrière-pensée of a compliment. But I don’t believe Margaret,'"

Lol, lmao even. HENRY, buddy, we've been over this -- you should know her better than this by now. I'm not trying to pull a "she's not like other girls" thing, but you started it. She doesn't have the same communication style as the "regular London girl[s]" you're thinking of! If you want to communicate something, you're going to have to be more blunt.

Also, if we continue with my thread of Margaret being neurodivergent-coded (and Henry being neurotypical-coded), this comment is something a lot of NTs often get frustrated by: that NDs don't pick up on the nuances of their interactions. This comment right here really cements this dynamic for me.

To me, it’s understandable she wouldn't pick up on this being flirting because it's subtle to begin with and ND people often have trouble picking up on social cues like this. I do find it interesting how he also expects her to be picking apart his speeches for compliments. Also "arrière-pensée" means "a concealed thought" or "ulterior motive", by the way!

Quick note: the quote is cut off deliberately like that for a reason, he doesn't finish his thought.

Luckily (or unluckily, depending on your view), he decides to try a different tactic. She has been gathering roses to "adorn her morning gown for dinner" and he takes this opportunity to help her with some she can't reach (relatable!) and puts a couple in his button-hole. While this isn't exactly a declaration of love, I do think this is another sweet moment. This could almost be a better show of affection than words for some.

Dinner is a very nice affair, with everyone talking very agreeably, enough so to make Henry forget his feeling of "disappointment" of Margaret's living being so small. Like she had told him. Ugh.

However, there comes a bit of a hitch when dessert comes around. Mr. Hale becomes fixated on the idea of dessert -- which must be pears from the garden. However, they already have dessert served behind him: biscuits with marmalade. Mrs. Hale worries that this pear idea will make their life seem "impromptu" and dessert "unusual" (which will not shine a good light on their living situation, I imagine).

Henry actually steps up with a solution this time: they should eat pears in the garden in order to give them the full experience. Though Mrs. Hale doesn't quite like this idea (she wants to end dinner the ceremonious way), Mr. Hale doesn't give her time to argue: he simply gets up. This shows me that Mr. Hale is probably still not in the best of moods, and likely put out with her as well for what she said in the morning. Either that, or he's so absorbed by his own worries that he isn't thinking of hers. Eep, not good.

So Mr. Hale, Henry and Margaret go out into the garden to enjoy some pears. While Mr. Hale grabs the ripest pear (to get over his anxieties -- relatable), Henry makes eyes at Margaret 👁️👁️. He then takes her to stroll while Mr. Hale sits on the garden bench. Oh no! What can this mean? Well, for Margaret, she just thinks this is a friendly chat. Hmm....

He immediately starts by idealizing her country life and scorning his "city life" (comparing himself to a Cockney), ending with insinuating he would want to live here as his "reward" for all of his hard lawyer work.

She replies by shutting down the fantasy (lol), that the beauty he sees isn't always there and besides, didn't he mock her village before and call it out of a tale? Once she makes it clear she saw it as disrespectful, he "warmly" states he'll never do it again.

I do like that she's comfortable enough with him to feel able to tell him she felt disrespected by his words: that's a good sign, at least. And while he doesn't exactly apologize, he does back down once he realizes this was genuinely negative to her. Gotta take our wins where we can!

""I could almost wish, Margaret——' he stopped and hesitated. It was so unusual for the fluent lawyer to hesitate that Margaret looked up at him, in a little state of questioning wonder; but in an instant—from what about him she could not tell—she wished herself back with her mother—her father—anywhere away from him, for she was sure he was going to say something to which she should not know what to reply. In another moment the strong pride that was in her came to conquer her sudden agitation, which she hoped he had not perceived. Of course she could answer, and answer the right thing; and it was poor and despicable of her to shrink from hearing any speech, as if she had not power to put an end to it with her high maidenly dignity."

I love this passage for so many reasons. For one thing, it has that relatable feeling one gets when you have that one guy friend who hits you with the "I have to tell you something..." and even when you don't know what they're going to say, you also know what's happening...

But I love that she has that scared moment and then she's like -- wait a minute? This is me -- Margaret Hale -- we're talking about and I will say what I want and it will be right because I make it so. I will not shrink from any speech coming my way and if I have to, will put an end to it with my high 👏 maidenly 👏 dignity 👏 . What an ABSOLUTE QUEEN FOR THAT!!!!! I aspire to be like her; why wasn't I told what an absolute girl boss of a role model this fictional character was? And I don't just mean like before I read this (I was given some notice), I mean like why isn't she given more love in pop culture just for this passage alone? (I could speculate why, but I don't want to get sad about that lol). If I didn't already love her, this right here would've made me love her. This passage is definitely something I will be remembering when I feel anxious about difficult conversations! Just, WOW, chef's kiss.

Forgive me, it's going to be a lot of passages from here on out, but I really want to analyze the exact wording here.

"'Margaret,' said he, taking her by surprise, and getting sudden possession of her hand, so that she was forced to stand still and listen, despising herself for the fluttering at her heart all the time; 'Margaret, I wish you did not like Helstone so much—did not seem so perfectly calm and happy here. I have been hoping for these three months past to find you regretting London—and London friends, a little—enough to make you listen more kindly' (for she was quietly, but firmly, striving to extricate her hand from his grasp) 'to one who has not much to offer, it is true—nothing but prospects in the future—but who does love you, Margaret, almost in spite of himself. Margaret, have I startled you too much? Speak!' For he saw her lips quivering almost as if she were going to cry."

Okaaaaaay, that escalated VERY quickly -- Margaret didn't even get time to put a stop to it!!! I can't blame her, he's not giving her the chance to speak. So, the fact that he grabs her hand so she's "forced to stand still and listen"? Yikes. Her heart is "fluttering" and she hates herself for it? Also yikes because I doubt it's fluttering from liking him. I could be wrong, but I'm like 99.9% sure her heart is like that out of nerves.

Not to mention his speech: Henry starts off by being upset she likes Helstone and seems happy there -- you know, the place where her parents are??? Her hometown???? The place he just yapped on and on about being the best place ever and seemed like a reward to him? What happened to that? Swift 180 turn to me. Oh, and let's not forget he doesn't like seeing her calm and happy -- uhhhh...ok?

Now I know what he's trying to say here: he doesn't like seeing her happy here in Helstone because he wants her to be so miserable that she'll want to come back to London (and be with him). If she's miserable, it'll show she cares for him. Here's the problems I have with that logic:

Who's to say she doesn't miss her friends and she's just hiding it? Some people are better at hiding their grief than others.

Margaret is a very "live in the present" type of person; it's not that she doesn't miss Harley Street, but tends to just kind of live in the moment. Him not realizing that -- or wanting her to be miserable despite knowing that -- shows that he probably doesn't know her or care for her as much as he says he does a couple of sentences later.

She hasn't lived with her parents for years and spent most of her childhood without them being a large part of her life (I'm assuming from the limited text we have). Why doesn't she have the right to be calm and happy while living with them? It's pretty understandable she would be more happy with them because if anything *they're* the ones she was probably "more miserable" without. I'm sure she was fine at Harley Street, but she really seems to love her parents and her first night at Harley Street as a child seemed difficult: I'm not surprised she's happy at Helstone! This guy has some audacity to be like "aren't you miserable without me though 🥺" when like -- SHE'S VISITING HER PARENTS???!!?!?! It's been three months, calm down dude.

Let's imagine a world where Henry's completely right (a world I'm glad we don't live in, personally) and she's totally miserable because -- oh, Henry's not at Helstone 🥺💔. Even so, when you visit your friends/crush/whatever that you've missed and you haven't seen for a while, do you act miserable and talk constantly about how much you miss them? I mean, I don't! I usually try to keep up appearances if I am sad, but I actually almost always brighten up around the person I'm with because they make my day better. I get excited and in my element; to the outside person, you'd never know I'd be totally upset when they left because that's how happy I am! Of course, I'd say I miss them or whatever, but I wouldn't make a scene like he seems to want her to.

Going off of that, if you truly cared for someone, wouldn't you want them to be happy? Like he tells her he loves her but starts off his whole speech before he gets to that point with "I wish you were less happy and more miserable because that means you'd miss me and give me a chance" and that's...I don't even know what to say to that. I didn't think you could get worse than Mr. Collins or Mr. Darcy's failed proposals, but I think that beats it. In Mr. Collins's case, at least he starts off with compliments (though they're backhanded and he doesn't really mean them, lol) and at least with Mr. Darcy, he starts off with "I love you" and lists the reasons before he starts insulting her family!!! I guess it's a "pick your poison" thing, but seriously, what a way to start off a love confession speech/proposal.

Then -- and this is what really gets me here -- he notices her trying to get him to release her arm: another sign she's not enjoying this. Now, she's doing this in a quiet but firm way, not wanting to make a scene -- but not backing down, either. Instead of doing the decent person thing and letting her hand go, he keeps his grip and tells her to listen more "kindly". He takes this as yet another sign she didn't "miss him enough" and WOW. Um...I don't have much to say to this; I think it speaks for itself. I will say, everytime I read it I'm filled with an immeasurable amount of rage, if that tells you anything.

He also ends his very touching and heartfelt speech (/s) with saying that he loves her "almost in spite of himself". Aaaaand we're back to Mr. Darcy with his whole "yeah your family is below me and an insult to the human race and I actually wish I could stop thinking about you but in spite of all of that I love you whoops". I think he means this in more of a "I'm not a feelings person, so for me to be in love with you is a big deal" (we'll get to that speech of his soon), but it still comes across wrong to me. If you're going to say that, please clarify what you mean!!!

And THEN -- as if that's not bad enough -- he sees her lips quivering as if she's going to cry and after asking if she's startled (not the emotion I'd be asking after, but ok), he commands her to speak. As someone who gets overwhelmed easily, I would actually hate someone doing that to me!

And if we continue the thread of Margaret being ND, what if she's not able to speak because she's too overstimulated from whatever the heck that just was? I know she just hyped herself up -- and that's amazing, don't get me wrong -- but it could very well be difficult for her to communicate using spoken language and the fact that he wants her to speak right now is a bit reminiscent of how NTs will often force NDs to "act neurotypical" in difficult situations (e.g. "make eye contact, speak on this" etc.) and it's heartbreaking to read using this lens.

Even if we don't read it in that vein, who sees someone about to cry and goes "Speak!"? Get a grip, man.

"She made a strong effort to be calm; she would not speak till she had succeeded in mastering her voice, and then she said: 'I was startled. I did not know that you cared for me in that way. I have always thought of you as a friend; and, please, I would rather go on thinking of you so. I don’t like to be spoken to as you have been doing. I cannot answer you as you want me to do, and yet I should feel so sorry if I vexed you.'”

I feel for her here: I’m glad she takes a moment to be calm, but I imagine it must cost a lot of emotional effort to do so. If I were in her shoes, I don’t even know if I could manage it!

Also, her speech itself is a masteclass in kind — but firm — rejection, in my opinion. Notice how she answers his last question first: that yes, she was startled. That is easiest to answer, so she focuses on it. Then, she expounds on it by letting him know she wasn’t aware of his deep feelings, which caused her to be startled.

That’s when the boundary-setting starts! She sets two of them: in order to “keep thinking of him as a friend”, he will need to discontinue his advances and then she states she doesn’t like the way he has been speaking to her — aka, all of the ways he just offended her in that last paragraph? Stop it immediately.

She ends it by affirming that she cannot give him the answers he desires, but does not want to “vex” him. Just to be sure I was reading her meaning correctly, I looked up the meaning of vexed:

“to bring trouble, distress, or agitation to”

So, she’s worried about troubling him. Yes, distress is in there too, but I think it’s interesting she uses that word to describe how he will take her not returning his feelings. Historically, women do have to worry about how men will react to them not returning feelings -- sometimes to an extreme degree -- and it can feel as if it’s more of a case of them being troubled/agitated rather than distressed. I can’t speak for everyone of course, but it sucks that women have to feel so responsible for men’s happiness to the point of saying “sorry for the trouble” if the feelings aren’t returned! (And yes, I know this issue can happen regardless of gender, but I’m focusing on this dynamic since that’s how it appears here.)

So, how does Henry react? Does he reassure her that he isn’t entitled to her feelings? Asks for space to deal with his own emotions, perhaps? Nope!

“‘Margaret,’ said he, looking into her eyes, which met his with their open, straight look, expressive of the utmost good faith and reluctance to give pain, ‘Do you’—he was going to say—‘love any one else?’ But it seemed as if this question would be an insult to the pure serenity of those eyes. ‘Forgive me! I have been too abrupt. I am punished. Only let me hope. Give me the poor comfort of telling me you have never seen any one whom you could——‘ Again a pause. He could not end his sentence. Margaret reproached herself acutely as the cause of his distress.’”

It’s interesting to me that Henry decides not to ask if she loves anyone else because he doesn’t want to insult “pure serenity” of her eyes. Some may call this nice, I call this asking for a punch in the face. It rides a bit too close to the “purity culture” line for me and I don’t like it. It seems as if Henry thinks she has too much good faith to ever be “unfaithful” to him by even entertaining the thought of someone else. Perhaps I’m wrong, but this is how it reads to me.

Then he asks for forgiveness and says he’s been too abrupt (ok, good start) but says he’s punished. Punished how? Punished for what? If you mean she’s punishing you for speaking to her a certain way by not returning feelings — just NO. That’s not what’s happening here!!!! She doesn’t return your feelings because she doesn’t like you, just accept it.

That’s when Henry really drops the hammer of “can you give me hope and return my feelings one day 🥺” which — oh, boy. On one hand, I can feel for him here, but it’s strange to me that he also wants her to promise that she’s never seen anyone that has caught her fancy. It’s a very “if I can’t have you, no one can” mentality. It even causes Margaret to get mad at herself for “causing” him to be so upset — which, again, he is not entitled to her feelings and she is not responsible for his happiness.

“‘Ah! if you had but never got this fancy into your head! It was such a pleasure to think of you as a friend.’

‘But I may hope, may I not, Margaret, that some time you will think of me as a lover? Not yet, I see—there is no hurry—but some time——‘

She was silent for a minute or two, trying to discover the truth as it was in her own heart, before replying, then she said:

‘I have never thought of—you, but as a friend. I like to think of you so; but I am sure I could never think of you as anything else. Pray let us both forget that all this” (“disagreeable,” she was going to say, but stopped short) ‘conversation has taken place.’”

Ok, so I’m going to take Henry’s side for just a second on this — hear me out. I think it’s a little mean for her to call his feelings just a “fancy” as if he thought of it one day and, on a lark, decided to confess his feelings. I don’t think that’s fair of her to say to him. You can’t help your feelings and it’s not entirely fair of her to expect him to keep it bottled up inside. While his confession speech has been pretty abysmal (sorry it’s true), I don’t blame him for having those feelings, just the way they’re expressed.

On the other hand, I’ve been in Margaret's exact same situation and have almost wanted to say the exact same thing! Like “we had such a good thing going and this came out of nowhere; what’s up with that?” I didn’t though, because I realize that’s kind of invalidating to hear. I also think that’s her being blunt and not filtering her thoughts, which is understandable given the heightened emotions (and even more so, if we read it in the lens of her being ND).

Henry insists on the point of her being able to love him romantically sometime in the future, to which she has to think about. I’m glad she actually takes the time to examine her own feelings before answering. She already knows the answer, but it’s good to be sure and honestly give it some thought.

That’s when she drops a hammer of her own: she has only thought of him as a friend, does so now, and is certain she can only do so in the future. She also wants to set this conversation behind them — almost calling it disagreeable in the process. She stops herself short, but I believe she makes a face or something in her demeanor registers it as such, because Henry picks up on it. Again, she’s being blunt, but this time she’s able to catch herself and spare his feelings a little.

“He paused before he replied. Then, in his habitual coldness of tone, he answered:

‘Of course, as your feelings are so decided, and as this conversation has been so evidently unpleasant to you, it had better not be remembered. That is all very fine in theory, that plan of forgetting whatever is painful, but it will be somewhat difficult for me, at least, to carry it into execution.’”

It’s telling that he becomes cold once he realizes she’s serious about staying friends forever. It’s sad that this 180 degree turn from Henry is still so relatable in today’s age! He does agree to her wishes, albeit reluctantly due to it being difficult for him. This I can understand; once you confess your feelings for someone and are subsequently rejected, it's a bit hard to just "forget" the entire conversation and go back to normal. Unfortunately, that's the consequence you have to face if you're going to confess to your friend like that; I think he was just so confident she'd return his feelings, he assumed this wouldn't happen.

“'You are vexed,' said she, sadly; “yet how can I help it?' She looked so truly grieved as she said this, that he struggled for a moment with his real disappointment, and then answered more cheerfully, but still with a little hardness in his tone: 'You should make allowances for the mortification, not only of a lover, Margaret, but of a man not given to romance in general—prudent, worldly, as some people call me—who has been carried out of his usual habits by the force of a passion—well, we will say no more of that; but in the one outlet which he has formed for the deeper and better feelings of his nature, he meets with rejection and repulse. I shall have to console myself with scorning my own folly. A struggling barrister to think of matrimony!'”

Her grief does cause him to realize that he needs to stop making her feel bad about this -- or, at least, broadcast a facade of good cheer -- if they're going to have any hope of keeping the friendship. After all, they're still in Helstone's garden with Margaret's dad not too far off!!!

However, he's not able to cover up his "disappointment" entirely and it shows as "hardness in his tone". He doesn't apologize for giving her grief, but instead asks her to make "allowances" for him. I don't like this for a lot of reasons (why does she have to make allowances for you when you don't seem to give the same respect back?), but what's even worse is that he says one of those allowances should be "for the mortification...of a lover..." UM??? If I’m reading this right, he wants her to allow for him feeling like he was her lover and now having to deal with her rejection of romance. Henry, let me break it down for you: you were never her lover -- ever. If you felt like her lover, that is your issue, not hers, to deal with. The fact that you're admitting that aloud is appalling and the fact you want her to allow for that problem is even worse. It’s almost like he kept up a pretense of friendship and all the while imagining they were lovers. That’s so weird!!! And again, remains relatable (unfortunately).

The other allowance, which I mentioned earlier, is that he’s not a big “feelings” person and since he got carried away by his passions, she should understand why he feels crushed that the one time he’s swept off his feet by romance, the feelings are not returned. I hate to tell you, Henry, but just because you’re more “worldly” than the rest of us doesn’t mean you’re going to get a girlfriend faster: just a pro tip!

Both of these allowances are quite silly, in my opinion. Yeah, so you have a crush for the first time and you thought of her as your girlfriend and the feelings weren’t mutual. What is she supposed to do, give you a cookie? I’m being facetious, of course, I know what he’s actually hoping is for her to change her mind and be like “I had no idea I was your first crush 🥺 wow, since I’m so special to you, of course I’ll court you!!! 😍❤️” which — ugh. I want to say he doesn’t understand how women work, but I’m hard-pressed to see how this would work on anyone!! Maybe in his head it would work on one of those “regular London girls” (which I’m beginning to think is just a made up notion in his head of women anyway), but I’ve said that Margaret is not one of those women (if they do exist) and never will be. The fact that he thinks he can make her be one or she will become one in time is concerning: what would he be like if they did court? Would she be expected to change for him? Or even if he does like her as is, would she be expected to “act differently” in front of his friends and other relatives? Again, reading this in a NT/ND lens really adds another layer of meaning to how this would affect Margaret’s mental health in the long term.

He ends this by saying he’ll have to “console himself by scorning his own folly” and scoffing at the idea of a struggling man in his job thinking of marriage. First of all, she has literally said nothing about your profession — you brought that up briefly before in your confession (I didn’t mention it because I didn’t have anything to say on it) — but she never said “I’m not going to court you because you’re a lawyer struggling to make ends meet”. Of course, you’re going to think that because it’s easier to think of her as shallow (only after men for their current money) and the “problem” as something you can fix (he can fix a money issue, can’t fix her thoughts of him being a friend), but really: how in denial can you be?

Secondly, this is the first time he’s brought up marriage. Of course, in the Victorian age that’s where courtships were supposed to lead, but still. It’s interesting that he waited until now to drop that last bit in; it almost seems like a last-ditch lament to be like “woe is me! How could I think anyone would ever marry me 🥺💔” which would pull at the heartstrings. Of course, I’m likely reading too much into this because I’m reading it in the tone of him doing anything to try to get her to court/marry him, even using manipulation and guilt tactics to do so. Is it likely he’s just upset and saying whatever comes to mind? Sure. But some people will do anything to get their way and so far he hasn’t shown himself to be very graceful in dealing with rejection.

“Margaret could not answer this. The whole tone of it annoyed her. It seemed to touch on and call out all the points of difference which had often repelled her in him; while yet he was the pleasantest man, the most sympathising friend, the person of all others who understood her best in Harley Street. She felt a tinge of contempt mingle itself with her pain at having refused him. Her beautiful lip curled in a slight disdain.”

I suppose I’m not the only one getting bad vibes from this last speech. Margaret sees the worst parts of him — the little things that had always bothered her about him — and while she still feels bad about hurting him, she can’t help but visibly show “disdain” for the way he’s talking to her now.

Suddenly, they come upon Mr. Hale and Margaret feels as if she's had an out-of-body experience, comparing it to an Eastern tale of a king who went through an experience of a lifetime just by dipping his head in a magical basin of water. In other words, she is not the same as she was when she last saw her father!

Of course, due to the amount of emotions with everything that has just taken place, she is quite unable to speak and lets Henry and her father do most of the talking. Henry notices her quiet and morose look and:

“"I am not so indifferent to her as she believes,' thought he to himself. 'I do not give up hope."”

Oh...oh no. Henry, literally just accept the no. She told you no -- JUST ACCEPT THE -- ok, I need to calm down. This man is fictional. The problem is there are men -- nay, people -- who think like this. Who will hear a "no" and then see the person's face and have such a cognitive dissonance IN THEIR BRAIN that they're like "nah, they actually totally want me, THEY just can't see the truth yet." As if they know better.

It's really hilarious Henry thinks he knows Margaret's thoughts and feelings better than *she* does considering he doesn't even know how to talk to her without her shutting him down because he accidentally disrespected her small town (rhyme not intended but a pleasant surprise). How does he think a relationship with a foundation like that? I realize they are good friends and get along in other ways, but it is sooooo telling to me that the *second* he flirts, she either becomes uncomfortable or straight up doesn't get it (or pretends not to, depending on how you read it). How could they be married like that??

So yeah, unfortunately, Margaret is not even allowed to look sad without Henry jumping on the chance that she'll want him someday. I'm almost 100% sure this would've happened regardless of the facial expression she had. Happy (from trying to keep up a cheerful facade)? "Oh, she's actually super happy I confessed my feelings and will love me soon, just watch." Mad? "She's actually mad at herself for refusing me." Confused? "She doesn't know what she wants, she'll choose me eventually." That's just the kind of person we're dealing with here.

"Before a quarter of an hour was over, he had fallen into a way of conversing with quiet sarcasm; speaking of life in London and life in the country, as if he were conscious of his second mocking self, and afraid of his own satire."

Ok, so this passage is really hard to decipher for me and I might need some help figuring ot out! From what I'm able to gather, he's mainly mocking both the country and London, but maybe in also a self-depricating way as well (this is the main part I'm stuck on)? What I do understand is why he's doing this; Henry is a man who's default is to mock and be sarcastic. It's his coping mechanism for when things get too "real". We haven't seen him be as such yet because he hasn't needed to be around Margaret. However, now that he's been thrown off by her rejection, his way of dealing with it is to slip back into empty sarcasm.

Mr. Hale notices this change and is quite put off by it, even being relieved when he has to leave. He notes the change from the "lighter, clever, more worldly man" he saw earlier and at the wedding breakfast. It's interesting how a lot of people tend to use sarcasm to seem more clever and worldy, but Gaskell sees through this and contrasts them as opposites in this chapter! What a callout! She's so real for that.

At the last moment, Henry Lennox’s real self broke through the crust. “Margaret, don’t despise me; I have a heart, notwithstanding all this good-for-nothing way of talking. As a proof of it, I believe I love you more than ever—if I do not hate you—for the disdain with which you have listened to me during this last half-hour. Good-bye, Margaret—Margaret!”

First of all, describing the weird sarcasm thing he was doing as a "crust" is funny and interesting to me -- I didn't know that could mean "harsh" or "surly": the more you know! Secondly, love that he calls out his own coping mechanism while still having done it -- progress, I guess? And third -- best of all -- Henry, my guy, my dude, why on earth would you tell her you love her while also saying you might hate her because she hasn't been happy with you for the past 30 minutes???? I am truly baffled. Has this man ever wooed a woman in his life? For the sake of the female population, I truly hope not because if THIS is how he does it -- YIKES!!!! Luckily, he probably hasn't considering his whole "i'M a lAwYeR wHo dOeSnT hAvE bIg rOmAnCe fEeLiNgS" speech.

And that's the way the chapter ends, so I'll end with a couple of points I want to make clear.

I know I've been super hard on Henry and -- to be fair -- I think he's deserved some of it. But I don't think he's a bad person. So far, Gaskell has written all of her characters with a complexity and depth that shows you're supposed to root for these characters (more or less), while also understanding their flaws. There were times I pointed out when Margaret wasn't at her best either; while she isn't entitled to return Henry's feelings, she was sort of trivializing them and I wouldn't like that either. I think the problem with Henry is that he's used to getting what he wants and when he doesn't get it, he gets upset and lashes out the way he did with Margaret. I do honestly think he needs to work on himself and not think of romance right now because it sounds like he has deeper problems going on; if Margaret's rejection causes him to act like this, it's not just her rejection that's bothering him. I noticed that he talked about how he's currently struggling in his job and I think that can also account for him getting upset -- perhaps he had hoped for this to be a "good thing" to focus on instead of his work that isn't going well. I'm glad Margaret didn't return his feelings in that case because having one person the sole source of your happiness is never healthy and running away from your problems won't fix them! So yes, while I'm hard on him I do still think he has good moments and can be better: we're just seeing him at his worst. Still, that doesn't excuse his behavior, just explains it.

I also want to clarify for those who think I'm being too harsh on Henry and am doing so because I "don't understand what it's like to be rejected romantically". As a quick personal aside: I've been on his side of a romantic confession and was also rejected by someone who was my friend. And it hurt -- badly. Especially because there were many "signs" I read too much into as romantic (flirting, holding hands, etc.) so said rejection was not what I saw coming, much like Henry. However, when I realized that this person only saw me as a friend and wanted to keep it that way, I immediately told them "ok, I understand" and then took some time to myself to sort through my feelings. These were mainly embarrasment, shame, sorrow, and anger -- not at the person, but at myself for potentially ruining the friendship over this.

My main problem with Henry is that he reacts to Margaret's rejection with disappointment, anger, frustration, and hurt. These don't seem like the kind of emotions that come with an unselfish love, I hate to say it. I know there is likely more feelings bubbling beneath the surface, but if he's going to react that way and realizes he's hurting her in the process (which he does), he should ask for space while he sorts himself out. I get that wasn't "the thing" back then so I guess it's a bit harder for me to say "oh, Henry should've just left!" when no, he can't just abruptly leave like that and "oh, Henry should just work on his mental health" when that was very much not talked of. I'm just trying to think of ways he could've better handled this situation; he can't help his feelings, but he can help how he acts on those feelings. And it's not fair to Margaret to continually pressure her into a relationship she so obviously does not want. Additionally, the way he makes his confession/proposal frustrates me too because he mainly makes it about himself and his feelings. He wishes she wasn't happy at Helstone, he loves her, he's not a romantic person so it's a big deal for him. I mean, he doesn't even talk about her good qualities or what he likes about her: even Mr. "and what excellent boiled potatoes" Collins did that!!!!!

As a final note, if you're reading Dracula Daily at the same time as North and South Weekly, you may have noticed a few parallels between this failed proposal and Jack Seward's failed proposal. I want to dive into them and why I respect Seward's more than Lennox's, but I don't want to do it here because this post might be my longest to date and I'd rather make it a separate post anyway!

So yeah, another great chapter, excited to see what happens next week!

[mystic-writings]

remember the nights | chapter five — late night shenanigans

WORD COUNT — 3,322

WARNINGS — minor injury, mentions of blood

NOTES — k i know what i said last chapter but this is also one of my favorites and as usual, please don't do anything represented in this chapter, these people are dumbasses and this is all fiction so PLEASE DON'T DO WHAT THEY DO IN THIS CHAPTER YOU WILL GET HURT

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Since everyone else had canceled on you and Newt two weeks ago, Brenda decided that a large scale hang out was needed to make up for it. Even though everyone agreed, no one knew what exactly she had been planning so far, not even you. All she had told everyone was that it was an overnight thing at her house. 

The majority of the group was fine with that, and apparently so was everyone’s parents. It was only until lunch that Friday, mere hours before you were all supposed to hang out, that Minho decided to ask Brenda for some details. And, in pure Minho fashion, he did it with a mouth full of salad, his words just barely audible among the din of the cafeteria. “So, what are we doing at your house tonight?”

“What?” Brenda asked, leaning across from him to try and hear better. 

“He wants to know what we’re doing tonight,” Thomas clarified, and suddenly, all eyes were on Brenda. 

“Oh, yeah, right.” She smiled, almost like she’d forgotten. “We’re gonna go to Mickey’s, or order out from there, but we’re all going to stay at my house for the night. And all of us have that econ test at some point on Tuesday, right? So we can try and study for that as well, because I’m not failing my first econ test of senior year. If we get bored or anything, I still have the Wii set up in the living room.” 

To no one’s surprise, the group decided that this was an amazing plan. You were excited for it, aside from the upcoming test. From all the complaining Thomas had done over the years, it was clear that Mr. Henley’s tests were, quite frankly, unnecessarily difficult. 

The rest of the afternoon went as it usually did on Fridays. Classes, a bit of homework, and a snack to tide you over before packing a bag and heading over to Brenda’s house with Thomas and Teresa at around 7pm. And, just like every other time you’d had plans so far, you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling antsy and excited in the hours leading up to it. It was something you were either going to have to learn to control, or simply get used to. 

With your backpack slung over one shoulder and a tote bag in hand, you walked up Brenda’s driveway, glancing up at the hill and main road that was attached to the back of her backyard. There were no other vehicles in the driveway aside from Newt’s and Thomas’s, so you could only assume that Brenda’s parents either weren’t home or had parked in the two car garage. 

Your assumption that they weren’t home was proven correct when Brenda greeted you at the door, her home laid out similarly to yours and Thomas’, and directed you to the living room. Giant bowls of chips were laid out on the coffee table, along with fruits, gummy candy, and an abundance of water bottles that were also tucked under the coffee table. 

“I only planned the sleepover for tonight because Jorge took off for the weekend,” Brenda mentioned as you put your bags against the back of the couch, where everyone else seemed to put theirs as well. “Had to go visit some supplier for new coffee or something, I don’t know. All I know is he’s not here until Sunday evening, so the place is all mine for a few days.” 

You chuckled at Brenda’s wide, mischievous grin, and you wondered just how much trust her foster father had in her to keep the house in order by herself for the weekend. 

“Uh, go ahead and get settled, I’m gonna be calling Mickey’s for a delivery order soon,” Brenda said. “I think Jeff’s delivering tonight so it’ll get here quick.”

You dropped onto the couch next to Minho, who was scrolling on his phone, with Newt doing the same thing next to him — though he was snacking on a bowl of grapes in his lap — looking the most relaxed you’d ever seen him. Gally, unfortunately, was the only one of you who wasn’t going to be present for the night, as he and his family were headed to New Jersey yesterday to visit family and wouldn’t be back until late Monday evening. 

After greeting them, you asked where the girls were, only for Newt to tell you that they were upstairs, gathering pillows, blankets, and spare air mattresses to use on the floor. You noticed a single air mattress box by the sliding glass door that led to Brenda’s backyard, and assumed that this was something that typically happened often. That, or Jorge had extended family that visited often. 

You took in the rest of the living room while you waited for the girls. The TV was mounted to the wall, surrounded by a built-in entertainment and storage system. Bookshelves lined either side, with cupboards running along the bottom. The bookshelves were filled with framed photos, books, an occasional potted plant, movies and video games. Where the tops of the cupboards were, underneath where the TV was mounted, seemed to be the shelf in which Jorge and Brenda put their entertainment systems. You were almost shocked to find a Wii, PS4, and an Xbox laid out with their respective controllers and other accessories. 

The kitchen was directly behind you, its archway perfectly lined up with the back of the couch. It took up the whole of the other side of the home, and looked absolutely magnificent. All white cupboards and counters, black accented hardware and utensils, along with a large island on the outer edge and some bar stools. The rest of the kitchen, mostly near the front door, housed the large, 6 seat, solid oak dining table. 

Just as you leaned forward to grab some strawberries from the bowl in front of you, Sonya, Harriet, and Brenda barrelled their way down the stairs and into the living room, carrying armfuls of blankets and pillows. You watched them struggle before dumping the piles near the sliding glass door. 

Brenda sighed, before heading to the door across the living room. “I hate going into the garage,” she groaned, but headed into the dark room nonetheless, pulling out two more air mattress boxes upon her return. 

Thomas helped her drag them over to the outlet near the entertainment system, and everyone got to work in setting things up further. 

You helped Minho push the couch back and the coffee table against the entertainment center to make room, while Thomas and Brenda unrolled the first of the air mattresses. Harriet and Sonya rolled out the others to make things quicker, before helping Newt sort out the blankets they’d brought downstairs. Minho took his phone and headed to the kitchen to order the food, Teresa following to make sure everyone’s order would be right. 

After a very loud ten minutes, the air mattresses were blown up and placed in their respective areas — one between the couch and coffee table, and the other two placed vertically on either side of the first. They’d been fitted with blankets and pillows, and everyone was sitting or laying in some way on a mattress or the couch. Netflix had been playing for a few minutes now as everyone settled in with their textbooks, waiting for the food to arrive. 

You and Newt sat with Brenda on the couch, as you all had to take the test at the same time — and you would be the first of the group to take it — so stressing out together made the most sense. 

Even after the food arrived and everyone was stress eating, the silence between you didn’t let up, as everyone focused solely on their notes and their dinner. The mood persisted, passing the time when everyone finished their food, and when Netflix had asked if you were still there. 

Studying was beginning to become mind numbing, and you didn’t know how much longer you’d be able to read the same pages of notes over and over again before you went insane. You’d begun to hog the bowl of sour keys Brenda laid out in order to keep your hands and stomach occupied while you read. 

At some point, though, Brenda let out one of the loudest sighs you’d ever heard — the loudest being the one your old English teacher, Mrs. Nelson, had let out after reading your classes substitute teacher report — before slamming her books shut and groaning as she tossed her head back onto the couch, moaning out, “I’m so bored,”

“You and me both,” Teresa muttered.

Minho grumbled from his air mattress, “I swear, I think my brain is leaking out of my ears.” 

A beat of silence passed between the group again before Brenda shot up, back straight as she gasped, her features lighting up. “Guys, I know what we should do.” Her smile turned into a smirk as everyone looked up from their books to hear her out. “We should do a shopping cart race.”

As a light wave of protest washed over the group, you looked around, confused. 

“Come on, guys! They’re so much fun and we never do them anymore!” Brenda argued before pointing to you. “Besides, Y/n’s never done it before! She’s gotta try it at least once, right?”

“Are you guys sure this is completely legal?”

“Yeah, of course. We used to do it all the time.” Minho assured you. “Besides, the outside of the grocery store doesn’t have security cameras. They can’t afford ‘em.”

You nodded, but Minho’s words did nothing to curb your anxiety. Instead, you stood still in the shadows of the grocery store, watching as the group gathered enough grocery carts for two people to share one. The sound of the carts rolling across the asphalt of the parking lot was too loud as you rolled them off the property and onto the main road. 

As everyone lined up their carts, you asked, “Okay, so how does this work again?”

“Simple,” Minho shrugged, “someone gets in the cart, someone else pushes it. Whichever one of us gets to that intersection at the bottom of the hill first, wins.”

You nodded, the explanation of the game doing absolutely nothing to calm the odd mixture of panic and exhilaration filling every cell in your body. The pairs had been determined during the climb up the hill behind Brenda’s backyard, and as luck would have it, you were with Newt. Minho was with Brenda, Thomas with Teresa, and Harriet with Sonya. 

Along with Sonya, Teresa, and Brenda, you climbed into the cart, gripping either side of it as Newt stood behind you, hands firmly on the cart’s handlebar. You and Newt were on the far left side of the road, Thomas’ cart next to yours, then Harriet’s, then Minho’s. You would’ve been totally fine with the race, had it not been for the fact that the road you were heading down was on a steady decline with a curve to it. 

Before you knew it, though, Minho was shouting the countdown, his voice bouncing off the nearby hills, and suddenly, you were gripping the cart with white knuckles as feet stomped against the pavement and the wind pushed your hair from your face. You felt the cart rattling all throughout your body as Newt pushed ahead, one foot slotted on the bottom rack, the other continuing to push forward, as though the cart were a scooter or skateboard. 

Keeping the cart on track proved to be extremely difficult, as the tip of Thomas and Teresa’s cart would often ding against the side of yours. You and Newt were in the lead, though, and the adrenaline that pumped through you felt amazing. So much so that you barely noticed that you’d barrelled past the stop sign, and were continuing down the road. 

Just as Newt began using his weight and both feet to slow the cart to a stop, one of the front wheels caught on a rock in the road. You lurched within the cart as it halted slightly before shuddering violently, spinning out on the pavement and eventually tipping to one side. 

As it tipped, the air left your lungs and your grip on either side ceased, favoring the protection of your head as you toppled to one side, pain quickly blooming over your entire body. It was most significant at your right hip and forearm, particularly where your arm had hit the pavement. It stung and burned all at once, pulsing with pain. 

Trying to catch your breath, you immediately used what little adrenaline your body had left to push yourself up and slide out of the cart, trying to get your bearings back. Everyone else had managed to come to a safe stop and were all making their way toward you, shouting concerns as they approached. You looked down to find Newt pulling himself up into a sitting position as well, a slit of dark red blood blooming underneath his eye. 

Thomas and Teresa were the first to make their way to you, the former bending down to help you up. “Are you guys okay?”

“Yeah, I think I’m fine,” you nodded, smoothing out your hair, catching Thomas’ grimace as you did. You glanced back at your right arm, pain still burning across it. You found that the sleeve of the flannel you wore was dotted with holes and tears, dark red blood splotching the fabric. Carefully, you undid the cuff button and peeled the fabric back, briefly inspecting your arm. “Aside from that, apparently.”

A portion of your forearm was littered with cuts and scrapes, some of which had pebbles or bits of asphalt embedded in them. The entire area was stinging, your skin clearly rubbed raw from the impact. The flannel you wore had protected most of your arm, and the wipe out had been mostly low-impact, so you were sure that as long as you cleaned and wrapped your arm, you’d be fine. 

Newt limped his way over to you and Thomas, accompanied by the rest of the group. He gave you a once over, nodding mostly at your arm as he asked, “You okay?”

“Pretty much, it’s mostly just my arm. You?”

“For the most part. The bloody cart came down on my leg,” he said, glancing back at the cart. “I tried to stop it, but it must’ve hit something and wiped out, m’sorry.”

You shook your head, laughter bubbling up from your chest. “It’s okay, Newt. Don’t worry about it. The pain will probably be gone by tomorrow, it’s no big deal. Besides, it was my first cart race ever, and we won, didn’t we?”

Newt smiled, looking at where everyone else’s carts were. “We did.”

After pushing the carts back uphill and returning them to the grocery store, everyone headed back down the path into Brenda’s backyard, talking and recounting previous cart races and giving you third person perspectives on the crash. You assisted Newt, considering he was still mildly limping as you headed down the rocky terrain. 

By the time you were back in Brenda’s living room, you were left with just the sting of the cuts on your arm. There was no telling yet if you would end up with any bruises, but it was bound to happen, and there wouldn’t be anything you could do about them. 

Almost as soon as you were through the door, Brenda ushered you and Newt up the stairs to get cleaned up. “The bathroom’s at the end of the hall, through the door on the left. There’s a first aid kit underneath the sink.”

You followed behind Newt, who searched for the kit in the bathroom cupboards, finding it quite easily. It was massive, and you figured that Brenda must’ve been the clumsiest person on the planet, as the kit was nearly professional. 

After you took your flannel off, leaving you with your tank top, Newt began to patch up your arm. He held it over the sink, pouring antiseptic over it, and you had to bite your lip just to prevent yourself from making any noise. It stung even worse now, but the wound was clean and free of debris. Then came the adhesive gauze patch, the second largest one in the kit. It covered almost the entire length of your forearm, but barely half of its circumference. 

Once you were patched up, you grabbed the bottle of antiseptic from the ledge of the sink and doused a cotton ball with it, gently grasping Newt’s chin to hold his face steady while you wiped the cut clean, along with any blood that had dried around it. He hissed when the antiseptic touched his cut, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Such a baby,”

“Says you,” he retorted, brows furrowed. “Don’t act like you didn’t cry when I cleaned your cuts.”

You only scoffed, pulling back to search for a band-aid. “I have road rash, Newt. You basically just cut your cheekbone.” 

The blond stayed silent, and you smiled and huffed in satisfaction, pulling out a small band-aid. Once it was covering the cut, you both packed up the kit and put it back before heading back down to the living room, only to find everyone arguing over what to play. The Wii’s home screen was displayed on the TV, but it seemed everyone was struggling on what game they should play first. 

Finally, everyone had settled on Just Dance, and there ended up being a rotation of sorts. either two or four people would play a few rounds, then another, then another, and so on. It didn’t take long for everyone to have ran through all the good songs, so Wii Sports was the next up on the list. 

You could already tell, as Newt and Minho almost started an actual fight over Minho’s loss in tennis, that it would be a very long night. 

When the morning came, you didn’t want to go home. Last night was so much fun that you wished it would never end — much like your nights at the park. 

Over all, between the Wii games — where Thomas managed to misjudge the distance of the coffee table and ended up violently smacking his foot into it during his stint with Rasputin — and watching Mamma Mia! and recreating a lot of the scenes, you had a pretty tiring late night.

Somewhere during the second movie, everyone fell asleep one after the other on the air mattresses, while Brenda went upstairs to her room and you claimed injury and took the couch. 

After dropping Teresa off at her house, you came home with Thomas to find Chuck sitting at the table doing his homework with Maggie’s help, your father likely checking emails in his office. Despite you wanting to keep it secret, there was no hiding the bandage on your arm as you headed for the stairs. 

Without glancing up from Chuck’s workbook, Maggie asked, “So how’d the race go?”

You and Thomas froze, sharing a look before he darted off. You glared at Thomas’ back as he began his ascent with a guilty smile, while you debated your answer. 

Finally, you glanced at her as you said, “Newt and I won,”

You could hear the smirk in her words as she said, “That’s my girl.”

series masterlist: @heliads @ghostofscarley @badbatch-simp24 @virginia-peters @third-broparcelicito @lamolaine (open!)

[piillow]

can you write a skz comfort fic where the reader struggles with their university work pls and they comfort her?? xoxo

OMGGG yes comfort fics i love these also first request!!!!!! everybody cheer (queue awkward silence)

( •̀ ω •́ )✧

bsf!skz x gn!reader | cws : lots of implied sadness/stress/overworking, starving mentioned | wc : 2.5k | a/n : sorry some are shorter than others :(

chan -

- you'd been spending less time with him ever since it was midterms season. he understood you needed to study, but you seemed to be cooped up in your textbooks all too much.

- "y/n? don't you think it's time for a break?" he asked you. you just shrugged it off and replied with a quick "no."

- he sighed and let you do your own thing. he had plans to go to the library with some friends for an hour or two to study, so he hoped that you'd be done by the time he got back.

- but, lo and behold, you were still studying when he got back.

- "y/n! please... go to bed? i know we have midterms this week, but... sleep is still important, you know."

- "i know, chan. but i want to get as much done as i can, i've still got homework to finish."

- "here, we'll make a deal, yeah? you can study until midnight, but you'll only study until eight tomorrow night. your classes end at three, so five hours of studying."

- "what?! but.. chan! that's not enough!" you replied, slightly disappointed.

- "so, will you take the deal?"

- "fine..." you said while sighing.

- as the rest of the week went on, chan decided to invite you to his short library sessions with his friends, and even let you invite your friends along too.

- once midterms finally rolled around, he was always there for you.if it was comforting you with your late night study sessions, or even sending you a simple motivational text while you were taking your actual test. 

- it was the little things he did that made it better. so, maybe the deal wasn’t that bad after all.

minho -

- minho had been studying with you since lunchtime, and it was almost dinner time.

- "y/n-ah, time for a break. it's almost time for dinner, what do you want?"

- "i'm fine, min. i'll just make some instant ramen, don't worry about me."

- the surprised face he had made was.. interesting, to say the least. "y/n, eating is just as important as studying. it's on me, i promise. what do you want to eat?" he said, putting a hand on your shoulder.

- "are you sure? if you say so... i'll just eat what you're making, chef's choice." you said, giving him a smile.

- "ooh, okay! i promise you'll love it~"

- "wait.. not spicy food though!"

- "aww, fine..." he replied, pouting at you. “but still, why don’t you take a break? it’s been five hours, i’m sure your brain has gotten enough work done.” he says, standing up.

- “you’ll have to help me make dinner, it’s hard to make food with two hands, y’know?” he teased, but with full intent to get you to help him in the kitchen.

- “you- ugh, fine… i suppose i’ll help you.” you replied in your fake annoyance tone, to which minho had happily smiled at.

- as you walked into the kitchen to see many ingredients sprawled across the table, you were met with a very happy minho.

- which meant that you were in for a long cooking session. and possibly baking too..?

changbin -

- you’re both at the gym, sitting on a random bench while doing some sets of curls.

- then, from out of nowhere, you remember about a research paper that was due tomorrow. while you really wanted to tell changbin that you had to go and finish it, you didn’t want to finish your workout short today. 

- so, you didn’t. - it was currently 6:30am, and you had a bit over 30 hours to get it done. - but, it was a tuesday. you had classes, which meant more work, which meant you were definitely staying up tonight.

- just as you two were leaving the gym, you turned to him and asked “hey, you remembered the research paper for comp sci, right?” - “oh yeah, i finished it like, two days ago. it’s due tomorrow.” … right. of course he knew. he’s always on top of everything. - “yeah, i know that, just gotta make sure y’know? i mean, i cou-” - “could just check the syllabus.” he interrupted. “y/n, you didn’t even start it, did you?” he said in a flat tone. it’s almost like he could read through you. “y/n, c’mon. you really gotta start getting on top of your work…” - “i know bin, but.. i’m just so tired from everything. all these professors i have to email, all these papers i need to write, all the equations i have to solve. it’s getting overwhelming and i don’t know what to do. i know i have to work, but i just get stressed at the thought of it.” you admitted. it was getting too hard, too quick. but you couldn’t make it stop.

- as you two got into the car, he turned his keys and started pulling out of the parking lot. but, he wasn’t going to the dorms. he turned in a different direction.

- “bin, where are you going? this isn’t the way to the dorms, let alone campus in general.”

- “let me do my thing, y/n. you just have to sit here and relax, don’t worry about a thing. i promise.” he said.

- while you decide to get some shut eye while he drives, you suddenly wake up in the parking lot of your favorite cafe outside of campus. you always complained about how the ones on campus were always so crowded, and of course changbin took note of it.

- as he woke you up to your surprised face, he said “we’ll be staying here today. you have your laptop, don’t you?”

hyunjin -

- as you two sat in your non air-conditioned and sweaty dorm room, hyunjin was starting to get bored of trying to take a nap. so, he decided to take out his sketchbook, and draw you at your desk.

- he’d been listening to you type away at your laptop for what seemed like three hours, possibly more. you were in the same position when he went to bed, and still being in that position started to worry him. - “hey, y/n? you good over there? you’ve been working for like, 10 hours straight.” he said, walking over to where you were.

- “just working. i have to get this paper done for tonight, i have no time to waste.” you reply, not bothering to look at him while you shuffle through your tabs of resources and documents.

- “and… how much else do you have to finish?” he asks while adding some more hatching to his current sketch.

- “... three lectures i have to take notes on for quizzes next week.” you blurt out.

- “that’s next week. it’s only sunday, this week just started. why don’t you take a break after you finish? that’s your conclusion paragraph, no?” he asks again, leaning a bit closer to you so he can see your screen.

- “yeah, this is my conclusion. but i’d rather get it done earlier than i need to.” you reply while you proofread your paper once again. 

- once you let out a groan while you fix one of your mistakes, hyunjin pipes up. “here, give me your laptop, i’ll proofread it for you. it’ll be easier, since i haven’t read it before.”

- as you hand him your laptop, you take a peek at his sketchbook and the sketch of you. as he glances over the top of the laptop, he slides it a bit closer to you so you can see it better.

- while you admired the sketch of you, and while he proofread your paper, the silence in the room was nice. it wasn’t too awkward, not too tense, just… right.

- “it’s really good. i fixed what i had to, by the way.” he said, placing your laptop back on your desk.

- “you didn’t fix anything, though.” you say, confused.

- “yeah, because there was nothing to fix.” he replies.

- “oh- OHHH.” you say, facepalming yourself while hyunjin just laughs. “hey! don’t laugh at me like that. not my fault i’m a bit slow…” you say, crossing your arms.

- seeing your slight disappointment, his laughs come to a stop. “okay, okay, fine. but still, seriously, it was fine. and here, your gift.” he says while ripping out the page and handing it to you.

- “thanks. i guess i owe you, don’t i?” you ask as you took the paper.

- “cafe day?”

- “cafe day.”

jisung -

- you and jisung had clicked ever since you two became roommates at the start of the semester. just two new freshmen who were just trying to survive their first semester at college.

- so, while he was out at his night classes, you were working at the dorm. and almost every time he got back, he’d see you fast asleep in your bed.

- since you two couldn’t really talk to each other much, you decided to start writing sticky notes for him to read in the morning. they were always short messages, mostly consisting of anything similar to “i hope you’re doing well in your classes :)” or “hope you slept well.”

- so, when he entered your dorm room at 1am, he definitely wasn’t expecting you to be awake.

- “y/n? well, i wasn’t expecting to come back to this. what’s up? how are you doing?” he asks, not hiding his surprise.

- “oh, hi. i’m working. you?” you rushed out of your mouth. you felt like you were running on 100k/mph, and nothing could slow you down. there was no time for distractions, you just had to finish this assignment.

- han, sensing something is up, says “quickly cramming something? i can help you if you want. or, well, try my best, at least.”

- after hearing the word “help,” you jolt you head to the side to look at him. “really? you’ll help me? Seriously? oh my goodness, you’re a lifesaver! i can’t proofread for the life of me!” 

- as he sees relief wash over your face, he can’t help but smile. “yeah, i could! after this, you just have to turn it in, yeah?” he asks as you hand your mac over to him and nod.

- while he proofreads your work, you end up rambling to him about how you just hope that your professor doesn’t fail you. even though he wasn’t fully focused on you, he was just happy he could help you in any way.

- as he watched you turn in your assignment, he gave you a high five. “nice! now you can finally sleep, so i guess it’s my turn to start working now. good night y/n, sleep well.”

felix -

- whenever felix had arrived from his culinary classes, he almost always had some food with him, and he was always willing to share with you.

- today, he brought back an assortment of fried goods, which you could smell the second he opened the door.

- “ah, hi y/n. sorry about the smell..” he says as he takes his shoes off.

- you turned your chair to him, hoping that you’d be able to see what was in his bag. “it’s fine, at least it’s good food and not b/o.” you joked, which made both of you laugh.

- “still,” you continued, “what’d you bring? Chicken?”

- “spot on. and they let us experiment with random foods, so i tried frying some tteokbokki.” he said, looking at you with wide eyes. “definitely don’t recommend. i almost burnt myself from the oil like, twenty times.” he continued, sighing.

- “sounds pretty stressful, but i assume that that’s an understatement?” you ask, to which he nods almost right away. “i see.. well, if it makes you feel better, i’ve been working on these stupid geometry problems for like, two hours straight. i really need a break.” you admit, rubbing your temples.

- “well, why don’t we dig in? it’s still warm, and you can rant to me about whatever you want. sounds like a pretty even trade deal, hm?”

- and that ended up leading to a long dinner, with you two eating almost everything he had brought back. but, he would gladly do it again if it meant you’d be able to let go of some stress just for a little while.

seungmin -

- you two decided that today would be a good day to sit outside and get some work done, until it started to rain, and your laptop started to get water in it.

- once you got inside, you two checked the condition of your laptop, and after realizing it wasn’t turning on, this made you two bummed out.

- but you weren’t just bummed out. you had been working on a lab assignment due at 11:59 tonight, and it was 5pm. 

- after smashing the power button a few more times, you groaned. “great. i guess i’m going to fail this assignment that’s worth the same as a quiz. how beautiful.” you said sarcastically, shutting your laptop shut.

- “you wanna use mine? it’s back at the room, and besides, we got enough time outside today. i guess the rain was just a sign to tell us to come in.” he replied, hoping to lighten the mood.

- you raised a surprised eyebrow at him, “really?” you asked. “really.” he replied. “well, i will gladly take your offer. i’ll take anything i can to get this done. thank you so much.”

- as you worked, he happily accompanied you, even singing you a few songs, and being happily surprised when he heard you singing or humming along.

jeongin -

- you both sat at a table at the library, just studying in between your classes until your friend called you.

- “y/n! there’s gonna be a party at f/n’s house, you wanna go?” they ask.

- “oh, i would love to, but i’m too busy.. i’m sorry. tell me how it goes though! i hope you have fun.” you say, before hanging up the phone and sighing.

- jeongin looks over at you as you sigh, looking slightly concerned. “you okay? i know what it’s like to miss out on parties too. i’ve had to miss a lot, but i get over the fomo pretty quickly. i can stay with you tonight, if you’d like.” he offers. 

- you glance over at him, confusion written all over your face. “how’d you know- never mind. you’d stay with me? really? but i don’t want to be the reason you don’t go, then i’ll feel guilty too.” you say. - “no, really, it’s fine, y/n. if i’m being honest, i have lots of work to get done too, so it’s okay.” he reassures you as he pulls out his phone. “oh, it’s almost time for my class. i’ll see you later though. bye for now, y/n!”

- while he waved to you as he walked out of the library, you couldn’t help but think about his nice gesture to stay with you later. sure, there was a possibility he could be lying, but it was nice of him to do what he did.

[nowoyas]

Koi no Yokan 20: sleep it off (nishinoya yuu/reader)

First - Prev - Next - M.list - Ao3

A/N: speedposting this before work let me know if anything's broke

Summary: The biggest training camp of the year kicks off with five hours on a bus and a headache.

Warnings and tags: blanket series warnings

Words: 3700+

Fuck the Nishinoya family, honestly.

Fuck 'em for being so kind. Fuck 'em for the gifts, the cake, the way they welcomed you with open arms over the past two weeks. Fuck 'em for the soft hugs, the birthday card they'd presented you with, the way Rina had made you schedule a day to come over for dinner and immediately written it on the whiteboard calendar in the kitchen, outlined with a little doodle of fireworks like it was a happy event.

Fuck Rina for being so motherly. Fuck Jii-chan for the proud smile when you called him Jii-chan to his face. Fuck Mei for the cake, fuck Satsuki for telling everyone about your birthday, fuck Kaede for the hair stuff, way too expensive for you to have ever bought on your own even just to try, and fuck Soba for—no, scratch that, you could never be mad at Soba—but fuck Noya for the gentle, persistent comfort, for the effortless way he explains away the tears in the corners of your eyes when you make it to the school just before one in the morning. (Oh, she's just sleepy. She's been keeping, like, a 7pm bedtime most nights. I almost had to carry her here, you know?)

Also fuck whoever looked at Noya's totally innocent grin and actually gave him permission to sit with you on the bus ride up to Tokyo when he asked.

While you're at it, fuck you for cuddling right up to him and melting into the scent of his shampoo, and most of all, fuck the sunlight for waking you up as you near Saitama, where this week's camp is located. It's too bright, your head hurts, and you have no choice but to bury your face into the soft cotton of your volunteer pillow to block out the light.

He shifts at your movement, and you let out a groan. "What time is it?"

A soft laugh, laced with sleep. "Time to wake up. We're almost there, I think."

You let out a pained whine. "I'm not doin' anything until you flag Sensei down and ask him if I can have some of my painkillers."

"That bad already?" he coos sympathetically. "Are you gonna be alright?"

"Yeah. I think it's just dehydration." You'd cried a lot last night before you had to leave. You're pretty sure this is what a hangover is like. You should see if Mei or Kaede can get you some supplies to test that theory.

A clearing of a throat at the front of the bus. "Alright, we're going to be at Shinzen soon. Those of you who are awake, please take this time to wake up the others! After your things are brought to your rooms, we'll be joining everyone for breakfast, then warmups."

When he's done making his announcement, you feel Noya shift. "Sensei, can [name]-san get some painkillers? She woke up with a headache. She says it's probably dehydration, but the light's bugging her."

"Ah, sure! Shimizu, can you pass this back? Do you two have any water?"

You blindly reach for the bottle, finding it pressed uncomfortably between your hip and the wall of the bus. You shake it at Noya wordlessly.

"We've got some."

You manage to open one eye just in time to see Shimizu turn around in her seat, one row in front of you. She passes the bottle of painkillers over the seat, and Noya takes it with a nod. "We're supposed to help with serving meals," she says, nodding to you. "If you're not feeling up to it, we can make you a meal and let you go until you've rested."

"I'll be okay," you mumble. "The pills should kick in by then."

"If you're sure, but don't push yourself. Do you need help carrying your things upstairs?"

"No," you reply at the same time that Noya says, "yes."

You roll your eyes. "It's fine—"

"Your bag is heavier than it was when you asked me for help carrying it before," he points out. "And you weren't experiencing capital-S Symptoms then, either."

There's a shout from the back of the bus—Hinata is now awake and has just seen his first-ever transmission tower, apparently—that has you cringing and whining pathetically into Noya's chest, tears beading in the corners of your eyes.

He brings a hand up to cover your exposed ear, muffle the sound just a bit. "See? C'mon, let's get those painkillers in you."

You screw your eyes shut, toss your head back with the two pills he's placed in your hand. Choke down the pills and gag on the taste, even when washing it down with a massive swig of water. When you've recovered, you glance back at Shimizu. "I guess I could probably use the help, if it's not too much trouble."

"Of course. I'll help you bring your stuff upstairs. Do you think you can handle the stairs right now?"

"I can handle stairs," you grumble.

There's soft laughter rumbling beneath your ear. "She'll be a lot nicer once the pain meds kick in, I promise. Can you pass this back up to Sensei?"

There's a shuffling, and you sip your water, and you wait for the painkillers to kick in. On your way upstairs with the girls, you listen silently as Shimizu tells the other managers about your situation, and you don't even protest when she rattles off a rough list of things they're supposed to stop you from doing if they catch you.

You just have to not let them catch you.

~

Damn it all, you make it through helping serve everyone at breakfast, and with great determination, you even manage to convince everyone that you can at least make it to lunch before you have to take a nap and sleep off the headache. The painkillers are a huge help in this—they soothe you just enough to get everyone to let you sit in the gym and watch as the training camp kicks off in full swing. Takeda had demanded you sit in a chair, but at least you're allowed to be there at all.

In contrast to the previous training camp, Shinzen's training camp has the losing team take a penalty run up the hill outside the gym, a feat which you're not sure you could stand even without the concussion. You have the odd sense that the boys are going to be doing it a lot this week.

With Shimizu on one side of you and Coach Ukai standing on the other to protect you from any strays, you settle in to watch the first set of the day. The boys are up against Fukurodani, that school with the loud ace, and Hinata and Kageyama are back on the same side of the net again.

"I haven't been around as much because of my head," you mutter as you watch them take their places. "Have they played together at all since they started fighting?"

Coach Ukai shakes his head. "I'd been giving them the chance to work on their own stuff without getting at each other's throats, but I figure a few weeks is probably enough time. We'll see how they do today."

You nod. "I'm pretty sure I can guilt them into knocking it off if they start fighting again. You know, all things considered."

He laughs. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

The set begins. You set about taking notes as they kick off—the team composition for each set, compared against how they actually do. Shimizu's taking the real stats, so you can basically do what you want, at any rate. Fukurodani serves, Noya moves, and the ball goes right to Kageyama as always. For half a second, it's like nothing's changed—a clean receive, Hinata swooping in to spike, Kageyama already ready for him.

And then the ball hits the floor.

You bite back a laugh as Hinata lands, back of his head to you as he stares at Kageyama. Kageyama, for his part, looks reasonably embarrassed, cheeks flushed as he avoids eye contact.

They regroup. Another serve from Fukurodani, another clean receive. In the margins, you start a tally for points lost to mistakes, and you make your first mark in the column just as the next toss sails straight past Hinata. You prepare for the second mark, but then Hinata moves—calm, collected, his left hand coming up to bump the ball just barely over the net. He lands firmly on his ass, staring up at Kageyama, who stares right back at him.

"He would have panicked before," Shimizu comments with wide eyes.

You nod.

They've both changed a lot over the past few weeks, but it isn't just Hinata and Kageyama. Though it goes out, Azumane blasts out a pretty strong jump serve, clicks his tongue in frustration when the ref's whistle blows. Your margin tallies overtake the page quickly—Suga setting with the wrong timing during the synchronized attack, Yamaguchi's jump float not quite floating, Noya jumping too far for the jump set.

When he glares at you heatlessly, cheeks red, at the sound of your mostly-stifled laugh, you raise up both hands in a show of innocence. "I didn't say anything!" you mouth to him with a wry little smile. He rolls his eyes, and both of you turn back to your own roles.

It's just a touch embarrassing to watch them screw up repeatedly, and your rage pricks up at hearing a coach from another team quietly comment on how wonderfully out-of-sync they are (they're your guys to tease about screw-ups!), but you keep your tallies and keep your mouth shut.

He won't be laughing when it all comes together. He won't be laughing then at all.

~

You make it a whole hour after lunch just fine. As expected, the guys are losing repeatedly, but at least it's less "getting their asses handed to them" and more "valiantly struggling", compared to last time. It seems very valiant when you watch them run up the hill, shouting at the top of their lungs, anyway.

"At least they're keeping their spirits up," Yachi notes with a sigh.

"I don't know how they do it." You let out a sigh of your own, shaking the last of the prepared bottles. "The yelling or the running. It's like they're a whole different breed."

You really wish they'd stop yelling, actually. The painkillers are starting to wear off, and you can definitely tell. Half of you almost wants to go up to the room and take a nap, but the other half of you categorically refuses to be a child who needs a regular naptime, and that half is much, much louder.

So you grit your teeth. You pass out water bottles and hope your smile looks natural. You avoid Noya a little bit because you know that he's started figuring out what it looks like when you're pretending your head doesn't hurt, and you subtly point Shimizu in his direction so you can get distracted with someone else before he can monopolize you.

"How're you feeling?" you ask Hinata as he accepts a water bottle from you. "You sound like you've still got energy."

He catches his breath, nods his thanks. "I can keep going. Kageyama's acting weird, though."

You tilt your head. "Do you mean the new set? He's been working on it since you guys got in that fight, I think. You're different, yourself, though."

"You think so?" he lets out a nervous laugh, cheeks turning a little pink. "Well, I've been practicing really hard at Old Coach Ukai's place. Is it actually noticeable?"

"Definitely. Once everyone starts coming together and locking in, you guys are gonna do great."

"T-thank you!" He bows.

You wave it off with a nervous laugh of your own. "You don't need to make such a big deal of it. All I can really do is observe, so I'm observing, that's all."

"Ah! Speaking of that…" He straightens up, peers at you. "You look really pale today. Is your head bothering you?"

Shit. Fuck. Goddammit.

"My head's fine!" Stop pitching your voice, dumbass. "It's probably just the painkillers wearing off."

"Hmm, if your painkillers are wearing off, aren't you supposed to go rest or something? It's not good to push yourself while you're still recovering." He actually pouts at you. Fucker.

"Come on, Hinata, you gotta be on my side here—"

"She is supposed to go rest," Noya says from behind you.

You jolt. Drop your shoulders. Sigh. "I'm not getting out of this, am I?"

"Nope. Go try to sleep."

"You're the worst."

"And you're concussed. Go."

No amount of arguing gets you anywhere. Not with Noya, though you appreciate his pout as he demands you take care of yourself.³⁴ You wave them off as they return inside for the next set and find your way back to the girls' room for a nap.

~

There is a level of ballsy required of any man to traverse the expanse of the cafeteria at dinner and walk right up to the managers' table without issue, and maybe if it had been anyone but Yuu, it would have been a level beyond him. At least, he gets that impression from the eyes on his back as he approaches the girls. They sit at a whole separate table, one of the only rounded tables in the room, chatting and smiling as though the sole source of light in the entire camp.

The girls fall quiet as he walks up, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Kiyoko-san, Yachi-san. Has [name]-san come down at all since she went upstairs to nap?"

They share a look. "She hasn't, no."

He sighs. "Figures. Do you think the teachers will be mad if I bring some food up to her?"

Kiyoko hums. "They probably won't be mad about bringing her food, given the situation, but you being alone with her in the girls' room is a little…"

"Could someone come with me, then? Her concussion naps will go until morning if I just let her sleep, and she needs to eat."

One of the managers from another school—the cute one with the black pigtails and the Ubugawa shirt—raises her hand. "I don't mind grabbing a serving from the kitchen for her and chaperoning."

Shimizu flashes her an angelic smile. "Are you sure, Miyanoshita-san?³⁵ It'd be a big help."

"Yeah, it's no issue! I'm done eating, anyway."

He bows slightly. "Thank you! I really appreciate this!"

She gets up, waves to the other managers, and wanders into the kitchen with him.

~

Eri guides him up to the girls' room without complaint. She's not really sure what to say to this Nishinoya guy—she vaguely remembers him as Karasuno's libero, pretty good, pretty loud—but he seems happy to lead the conversation if she'll just lead the way.

"Miyanoshita-san, right?" he asks as they round the staircase onto the third floor. "Thanks again for this. She can be a little grumpy when she wakes up, so sorry if she's a little rude."

She laughs. "No, don't worry about it! I totally get it. Are you close with [name]-chan?"

The guy laughs back, smiles fondly. "Yeah. She's been staying at my place since she got hurt. I've been taking alright care of her, I think."

"I'm a little jealous," she admits. "It must be nice to have someone like that around. I'm sure she appreciates it."

His eyes are somewhere else when she pauses at the doorway. "Yeah, I think she does."

He takes the plate and slips inside, beelines towards the one occupied futon that you've dragged into the darkest possible corner of the room. She waits by the doorway, takes a moment to check her phone while he shakes you awake.

"Hey there," he says, voice low and soft.

This is… fundamentally a different guy from the libero she watched playing against Ubugawa earlier. He'd gone from shouty and bouncy to this: resting on his knees and stifling a laugh at your sleepy whining. She really is a little jealous.

"S'npai?" you mumble.

"Yeah. Hey there, Sleeping Beauty. Time to get up."

She eyes the scene with amusement, taps out a text to the Fukurodani Group Managers group chat—they should really get you, Hitoka, and Shimizu in on it before the camp is over—as what little of your face was visible disappears under the blanket.

Eri to Fukurodani Group Managers!!! at 19:35

Eri: [name]-chan's bf is ADORABLE with her omg

Eri: currently watching him wake her up by petting her like a cat

"C'mon, [name]-san. You've slept for like… four or five hours. You gotta eat something."

Another whine. "It's like you don't even like me."

"Complain all you want, but I'm gonna get real annoying if you don't eat something. You don't even have to do anything but sit up and chew. I'll feed you."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

…he's pretty much forgotten she's here, hasn't he?

Eri: he just offered to hand-feed her dinner if she'll just sit up

Yukie: oh my god I'm so jealous

Yukie: where is MY doting bf who will hand-feed me my dinner and stroke my hair wtf

Eri: he said she's been staying with him since her concussion and he's been taking care of her this whole time

She glances up. Nishinoya's managed to get you to sit up, which looks a lot like you immediately pressing into his side, eyes still closed but muttering complaints as you rest your head on his shoulder. "You're the one who made me go nap."

"You needed it, or you wouldn't have slept so long. Come on, open."

Eri: doting libero bf now hand-feeding her while she rests her head on his shoulder

Mako: SHIMIZU-SAN AND YACCHAN SAID THEY'RE NOT ACTUALLY DATING???

Eri: WHAT

Eri: are they ABSOLUTELY SURE???

Eri: they're like. Full on cuddling right now. She's got her arms around him and everything

Eri: he saw her and immediately forgot I was here

Eri: he's now playing with her hair and talking too softly to her for me to hear

Mako has added Shimizu and Yachi to Fukurodani Group Managers!!!

Shimizu: they really aren't dating

Shimizu: but he has proposed to her a few times

Eri: …a few???

Yachi: more than a hundred, I think? They have a bet

She watches incredulously as Nishinoya raises a bite of food to your lips, as you turn your face into your shoulder as you chew.

He laughs. "Marry me."

"Eight hundred eighty-nine," you mumble into his shoulder.

Eri: what's the bet? He just proposed again and she said 889

Shimizu: she'll actually marry him if he proposes 889 more times

Yachi: if he proposes 1000 times total she'll marry him

Eri: so they're ENGAGED???

Shimizu: no, as far as I can tell they're just friends outside of the proposal thing

Eri: …there's no way

She watches in disbelief as he continues to feed you, until you've eaten your dinner without lifting a finger. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Marry me, and sure."

"Ask me another 888 times and I will."

He laughs softly. "You're gonna be awake for a while at that rate. Sure you don't want to lower the quota for me?"

"If you don't lemme sleep I'm gonna raise the quota."

"I'd love to let you sleep, but you probably wanna actually get up and, like, shower and get ready for real bed first."

"But if I move it's gonna take forever to fall asleep again," you pout. "I don't have my cuddle buddy up here."

"Aw, is it hard to sleep without me?" he teases. "I can let you borrow my jacket to sleep better."

"I mean Soba, you ass."

"Really? You haven't been falling asleep with Soba recently."

Eri: THEY HAVE SLEPT IN THE SAME BED AT LEAST ONCE. ARE YOU SURE THEY ARE NOT DATING

Shimizu: …they did seem to get a lot closer after the concussion…

Yachi: she would have said something, right???

Shimizu: nishinoya would have told the entire team and also everyone at this camp if they had made it official

Shimizu: he probably would have ended up on the news somehow

She stifles a laugh. It's about that moment that both you and your boyfriend-not-boyfriend seem to remember/realize she's there, and you fully freeze, staring at her with a deer-in-headlights look.

"Oh. Hi," you say, voice pitching a bit higher than normal. "Miyanoshita-san. Have you been there this whole time?"

She waves with a sheepish smile. "I'm chaperoning. Shimizu-san said it might not be good if he were caught alone with you in the girls' room, even if there is a really good reason for it. You can ignore me."

"N-no, uh, I should probably get up and shower and stuff anyway."

"Thanks again, Miyanoshita-san!" Nishinoya grins, blinding. He looks back to you, his edges softened. "Are you going to be good to do everything you need to, or are you dizzy again?"

"I'm fine," you grumble. "I slept the headache off."

"Alright, then I'll take this back to the cafeteria before it closes."

"'Kay. G'night, Senpai."

Eri to Fukurodani Group Managers!!! at 20:32

Eri: I think I need them to get married actually

~

Freshly-washed, still exhausted, and determined to go back to sleep though you are, you slump into your futon that night with all the grace of a sack of flour. Before you can settle in, you shift uncomfortably—there's the press of a zipper into your side where you lay. You wriggle the offending jacket out from underneath you, and—oh goddammit. You recognize the smell of that cologne.

[name] to Noya at 21:01

[name]: oh you are NOT slick mister

[name]: take your stupid jacket back!!!

Noya: gee it's too bad I'm already on the guys' floor for the night and we're thirty minutes to lights out

Noya: if one of us were caught on the wrong floor this late we'd probably get in a ton of trouble with the teachers

Noya: I guess you'll just have to give it back to me tomorrow

[name]: >:(

[name]: fine, but you owe me a soba

Noya: [image attached. Image description: Noya laying down in bed, your head resting on his chest. Soba has wriggled her way underneath the arm you've slung over Noya's torso, and Noya's face is half-buried in your hair.]

Noya: sweet dreams :)

…his jacket is softer than yours, better worn-in, and smells nicer. You wouldn't know, though. It's not like you cuddled it to sleep or anything.

Footnotes

34. I think about pouty, grumpy Noya in s2e13 a lot.

35. Miyanoshita is actually the only manager who Shimizu refers to by name outside of Karasuno, in s2e11 around ten minutes in. I've used this one line as the template for All Shimizu inter-school manager interactions.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory @kazunish

[hannahhook7744]

Stormbringer Crew Incorrect Quotes (Part 5);

Harry Hook: You fight like my sister!

Luke Tremaine-Westergaard, being a smart ass: I've fought your sisters. That's a compliment!

-----------------------------------------

Barnaby Teach, son of Black Beard *Jumps out of nowhere* We meet again!

Hannah Hook: I saw you three hours ago!

-----------------------------------------

Hannah Hook: Hello Captain Beardless.

Barnaby: I TOLD YOU TO STOP CALL ME THAT!

Hannah Hook: And I told you to pick on someone your own age.

-----------------------------------------

Hannah Hook, drunk on soda: I'm telling you man, she digs ya.

Luke Tremaine-Westergaard, also drunk on soda, groans: Another graveyard joke?

Hannah: Shut up, we both know you thought it was funny.

Luke: And we both know you have a thing for the prince of Arendelle yet you haven't done anything.

Hannah: Don't throw stones in glass houses.

Luke: That's not even how that saying goes!

-----------------------------------------

Darcy *stares at all nine of her siblings, who are gathered in the 'med room' suspiciously* What do you want?

Alex, playing with a knife: You gotta help us doc, we've tried nothing and we're all out of ideas

Darcy: Help you with WHAT?

-----------------------------------------

River Le Beak, holding his beanie to his chest as he stands on a sinking rowboat: Looks like we've shivered our last Timbers, mateys.

Hannah, shooting him a disgusted look: I'm revoking your pirate card.

River, gasping dramatically and hugging Luke: No captain! Please, anything but that!

Luke, playing along: Not the pirate card! What are you gonna do next? Give us the black spot?

Skia, glares with water up to her ankles: if she doesn't, I will.

Zee, five inches away on the dock: You guys know you can just step onto the docs right?

All *shushes her*

Zee, looks to Peachy and Remi: would it be a mutiny if I tossed a cannon ball in their rowboat to make it go down quicker?

Peachy: YES!

Remi, grabbing his guitar: Oh there once was a row boat that went to sea, that got on the wrong side of a pirate named Zee~~

*Dodges rotten tomato*

-----------------------------------------

Joy Foxworth, pointing at Tulip with a squirt gun: You've yeed your last haw!

Tulip, pointing back at her with own squirt gun: No I haven't, partner.

Hannah Hook, baffled from the tree, forgetting she's supposed to be hiding: WHAT LANGUAGE ARE YOU GUYS SPEAKING?!

Peter Pan, sprays her with a water cannon filled with something that is not water causing her to fall out of the tree: COWBOY!

-----------------------------------------

Random AK: Having Vks in Auradon is all fun and games until they're on the opposing dodgeball team!

Kyle White: That sounds like a skill issue to me.

-----------------------------------------

Amira: YOU FOUGHT WHOMST WITH A WHAT WHEN YOU WERE HOW OLD?!

Hannah, confused: What are you referring to?

Amira: Aziz said you told him a story about your childhood—

Hannah, realizing what she's talking about: Oh I stabbed a kidnapper with a fork when I was three.

Amira: YOU WERE NEARLY KIDNAPPED?!

Hannah: Yeah, hasn't everyone nearly been kidnapped at one point?

Amira: NO!

Hannah, not believing her: Oh sure. Next thing you're gonna tell me is that there isn't a Creeps Peak and Cannibal Cove everywhere-

Amira: THERE'S NOT-

Hannah: And that not everyone gets death threats as children-

Amira, eye twitching: Stay here, I need to go take my Tiger for a walk to Beast Castle.

Hannah*laughing* That's a funny joke Amira- hey where'd she go?

-----------------------------------------

Tulip Rossi, Zee Snoops, Evie, and Luke Tremaine-Westergaard: SURPISE MAKEOVER!!

Hannah Hook, running: NO NO NO NO!

Luke: YOU CAN'T OUTRUN US FOREVER!

-----------------------------------------

Hannah, half asleep and looking through her spy glass: SWOGGLE MY EYES IT'S MERMAIDS!

Moxie, amused: Describe 'em.

Hannah: There's a tan one with a gold and black tail that looks like sequins and one with a blue and black tail and an afro, a buoy grave, and a baby one-

Rian Frankenstein-Van Helsing, not even bothering to look up from his marine biology book: That's just Misty, River, Shania, and Toby, captain.

Hannah, embarrased: Oh.

-----------------------------------------

Hannah at 3am: Do you guys think other types of bending exist that were forgotten to history? Like bone bending?

Luke at the end of the bed: I think that's just breaking bones.

Drizella, who came to check on Luke: When on earth did you get here?

Hannah: about 11?

-----------------------------------------

Luke: Hey Darcy, are you Christmas? Because I wanna marry you.

Darcy:

Luke: I'm guessing that's a no until I propose in a non corny way?

Darcy, nodds:

Hannah off screen: I told you she was gonna say no if you did it that way!

Luke: SHHH!

-----------------------------------------

Kyle, in a silly voice: Yarr, I be a pirate, maties. Arrrg!

Hannah, looking at him as if he just shit in her cereal: I can't belive you've done this.

-----------------------------------------

Moxxie laying on a beanbag: Christmas gets so much harder the older you get. What do you want for Christmas? I don't know! Financial security? To not almost die for a week? Socks? I don't know! What about you guys?

Rian: I want to be as smart as I was before I got brought back to life.

Eduardo Frollo: My father dead.

Parker McLeach: A gun.

Hannah: To be normal.

Haul Bjorgman: My depression to go away.

-----------------------------------------

Hook: Okay which one of you gave my daughter a real golden sword and who taught her slang?

Hades, drinking out of a gauntlet: She won a ship, I thought she deserved a reward.

Hook: Did you teach her the slang?!

Morgie: What slang did she use?

Uliana, amused: And how does this slang relate to the sword?

Hook: She named it the nut slicer!

Hades *does a spit take*

Persephone *chokes on her cereal*

*Meanwhile elsewhere, Maleficent can be heard cackling*

-----------------------------------------

Hannah, near tears: Alex I did something terrible!

Alex, the son of Helga Sinclair and Hades: Don't worry, I have a shovel! *Taps ground with shovel*

Hannah, vaguely terrified: Wait what? What do you think I did?

Alex, a mad glint in his eye and a wild smile on his face: It doesn't matter because no one will ever find out.

-----------------------------------------

Kidnapper: We have your son.

Haul, confused: I don't have a son.

Kidnapper: Then whose watering and talking to my plants while blasting heavy metal music?

Haul: Oh my god you have Noah. His siblings are going to kill you.

Kidnapper: Hey buddy don't you threaten me.

Haul: I'm not threatening, I'm warning-

*A loud crash rings out over the phone followed by glass breaking, swearing, and screaming*

Darcy: Hey Haul.

Haul: Hey Darcy, Hannah told me to tell you and the guys to be at the ship tonight because we're having a party.

Darcy: Will be there.

*Phone hangs up*

Haul: Well I did warn them.

-----------------------------------------

Olivia, Gaston's daughter: In hindsight, having an abusive parent is funny because it's like 'Daddy why you have beef with me, I'm literally three years old and I love you'.

Eduardo, Frollo's son: Ugh, don't remind me. One time my dad yelled at me for drawing too loud.

Luke, confused: How do you draw too loud?

-----------------------------------------

Darcy: I've got a date with destiny and it ain't gonna end with a kiss.

Noah, confused: Who's destiny?

Darcy: It's just an expression, brother.

-----------------------------------------

Hans: We have a front door you know.

Hannah, who came in through Luke's window like normal: I know.

Hans *sighs*

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Noah: MY CABBAGES!

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The kids in Hannah's crew: I wanna be just like you when I grow up!

Twenty year old Hannah, suddenly getting flashbacks to every dangerous thing she's ever done *spit take*

Hannah, internally: NO GODS, PLEASE. GODS NO!

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Elara's birth parents *try to take their daughter back after abandoning her on the barrage and causing her to grow up on the isle*

Hannah, pushes the elf girl behind her and glares: SHE'S NOT YOURS, SHE'S MINE!

-----------------------------------------

Hannah *shooting up in her bed in the middle of the night and accidentally knocking Skia, Luke, and River who she was having a sleepover with out of it*

Luke: OW!

Skia: Hey!

River: Hannah, what the hell?

Hannah, getting horrible flashbacks to her family's partners violent attempts to flirt: HAVE MACON WEST AND OLGA HEARTS BEEN FLIRTING WITH ME THIS WHOLE TIME?!

*Momentarily silence followed by a loud explosion of noise as the other three question if that is the case*

-----------------------------------------

Hannah: When I was younger I used to set toilet paper on fire and flush it down the toilet for fun and only stopped because I burnt the seat.

Eduardo Frollo: Again, weird but not a sin.

-----------------------------------------

Luke: One time when I was a kid the toaster caught fire, so I went over to my dad who was arguing with my grandmother and tugged on his sleeve for six minutes till I had his attention and calmly told him the toaster was on fire.

Hannah: Oh yeah I remember that. He was all like 'WHAT? AHHH!' and your grandma asked why we didn't say anything lol.

Kyle: why do you remember that?

Hannah: Oh I was there.

Kyle: ?

Hannah, fondly sighs: Good times.

-----------------------------------------

Lady Tremaine, impatiently: And if I wanted to sit around all day going nowhere, I’d be a teacher!

Luke, fed up *hits the gas and starts driving recklessly* Got it.

-----------------------------------------

Lady Tremaine to Luke: You’re not fit to be king of … name a place

Luke: and you're not fit to be a mother, let alone a hair stylist.

*five minutes later*

Luke runs and hides behind Drizella: MOM! GRANDMA'S TRYING TO KILL ME!

-----------------------------------------

Lady Tremaine, regarding Luke: My third biggest fear: He brings home a whore and says, ‘We’re married!’ Oh, and the whore has bangs.

Darcy: I'm literally right here.

Lady Tremaine, drinking: And I wish you weren't.

Darcy: And I wish you were dead but we can't all have what we want.

-----------------------------------------

Luke: Your point being- *freezes in horror*

Hannah *staring at him wide eyed*

Haul: Uh... What's wrong?

Luke, screaming: I'M TURNING INTO MY GRANDMOTHER!

-----------------------------------------

Luke: You know, when I was little I used to pretend you weren't my grandmother.

Lady Tremaine: Me too.

[clefrot]

faq with lucky: robot edition

"does he feel pain?" no, but he can feel temperature and general touch. and also he can tell if he's damaged, but that's more of "uh oh somethings wrong" than actual pain.

"does he need to charge?" yes and no? he can get energy from eating, but he can also be plugged in if necessary. he does need to sleep regularly though; in the same way you turn off your computer when you're done with it. he either wakes up after 3 hours, or he can be shut down indefinitely until turned on by someone (usually exclusively glass)

"does his hair grow?" it maintains a certain amount? like, for example, it's supposed to be 5 inches, then it will stay 5 inches. if cut, it will grow back to 5 inches. i don't think it's five inches but that's the example.

"is he always warm? can he overheat?" yes, he is always warm, because he's a machine that needs a lot of energy to keep going. he's a heater at all times of the year. he can overheat, but rarely does unless a) poorly maintained/damaged or b) suffocated

"can he feel emotions?" yes. he's a human mind compressed into code.

"how can he love glass if he's code?" he doesn't know the answer himself--even told glass to leave him because he can't love him any more than any artificial intelligence would--so the answer to this is pretty undefined. i suppose he can love, though in the strictest sense he lacks a soul.

"does he need maintenance?" on occasion! not often, but sometimes he needs to oil his joints, or just a regular check up. being an agent, and being himself, means that he needs it at Least monthly because of dents and scratches. most importantly, he cannot heal, but he is more durable than the average person.

[bigskydreaming]

Jason, randomly, out of nowhere, without warning: Hah, I'm taller than you now. LMAO. Loser.

Dick, who knows perfectly well that height has absolutely nothing to do with self worth and also that he's supposed to be above being blatantly baited by his little brother, who is obviously the REAL loser, and needs to be reminded of that fact which so doesn't count as actually being baited: Please. You're only that tall now because you got revived in a magical pit of green ooze that optimized your growth when bringing you back from the dead which is CHEATING, and thus doesn't count. Loser.

Jason: Really? Me dying and being dunked in a magical pit of green ooze to undo the physical trauma of my MURDER and also the years of malnutrition that led to my growth previously NOT being optimized is 'cheating?'

Dick: I regretted it as soon as I said it but I can not afford to set the precedent that I made a misstep in the minefield that is our fraught sibling relationship. I have no choice but to double down. The only way this ends well is if you choose to let it slide and gracefully accept a subject change. I'll even let you pick. As long as its understood that me letting you pick is not an admission of wrongdoing on my part, its just me being Awesome and you're welcome.

Jason: First off, I have never let anything slide gracefully a day in my life and I'm damn sure not about to start NOW, when you were being an ASS....

Dick: Oh biiiiig surprise, little brother can talk a big talk about being the bigger man, but god forbid someone give him the opportunity to back it up.....

Jason: Not my fault if you're feeling particularly SMALL at the moment, pun absolutely intended. Since its not like you have a monopoly on those no matter HOW much you've tried to act like you do over the years....

Dick: Hey, I've never claimed to have a monopoly on puns. I just said I find it INTERESTING that you were totally cool with using the name, costume and SIGNATURE BRAND OF HUMOR I DELIBERATELY SPENT YEARS CULTIVATING AS A LITERAL SIGNATURE BRAND all while insisting that noooooo, no need to CREDIT your older brother who quite literally paved the way with all of that and gave you his express PERMISSION to adopt it all as your own, hahaha, who actually gives credit where credit's due, that would be so weird right....

Jason: Tell you what, since you're sooooo sore about not being properly credited for your work why don't you go ahead and figure out a royalty rate for all the times I used YOUR intellectual vigilante property or what the fuck ever, and I will PAY you to never bring it up again.....

Dick: I would LOVE that, actually. I think it would be a great way to acknowledge MY trailblazing hard work, but I think we both know you'd literally just make a show of stealing the money from Bruce to make some kind of statement about how beneath you all this is which KINDA DEFEATS THE POINT of acknowledging or crediting someone's work as WORTH something, so -

Their siblings, who have been standing right there the whole time, and who are all Very Tired, and literally just wanted to know if their older brothers wanted to go to Bat-Burger with them and are now regretting everything, why does this always happen and why don't any of them know better by now: Is it done? Is it over? Can you stop? Ever?

Dick and Jason, simultaneously swiveling in instant older sibling solidarity: Wow. So impatient. So entitled. So demanding. Why, in OUR day, we'd be LUCKY to be granted even ten minutes between patrol and bedtime, to scarf down an Alfred-Approved Healthy Snack, but its not enough that Bruce lets you run around Gotham stuffing your faces with fast food at any hour of the night, noooooooo, its gotta happen RIGHT NOW, like THIS INSTANT, how dare anyone make you wait five whole minutes to get whatever you want.....

Tim: I honestly can't tell if I hate it more when they're just being obnoxious at each other & we're stuck bearing witness or when they combine their powers of obnoxious and aim it at us.

Cass, gravely: There are no winners here.

Damian: And Father doesn't get why I wish I was an only child.

Duke, wistfully: I took being an only child for granted.

Stephanie, with popcorn: None of you appreciate good theater.

Bruce, from somewhere offscreen, even miles away: My parents died because of the theater, STEPHANIE.

[gryphonlover]

It’s “appreciate yourself” hours! Pick five pieces of writing that you’ve done that you love and talk about them! ❤️❤️❤️

Oh boy, I was not expecting this when I opened my inbox. 😅 At this point, I've got 25 works tagged under Linked Universe (including the translations), which feels like a lot. But I think 5 works makes a decent sampler.

Light a Candle is definitely one of my favorites. It was actually supposed to be a gift fic for you, but I was too shy to tag it as a gift fic at the time, so I just posted it and hoped you saw it. It's also a very sentimental piece for me because it's based off of a personal experience I had, and I wanted to capture that beautiful moment of friendship and brotherhood in writing.

The Doll of Resurrection was my first mature fic. I was very nervous at first, because I hadn't written or posted something like that before, but I think it came out very well, and now I've got a companion piece in the works. I don't know what else to say about this except that I plan to keep writing death scenes that emphasize gentleness and loving kindness.

Dead Weight is part 6 of Emotional Support Loftwing, and probably my favorite of the series thus far, simply because I think I did the best on it in comparison to the others. I've been pretty pleased with the response in the comments because there were a few things I did on purpose there, and they noticed, which means I was successful.

Troubled Waters was very self-indulgent. I just wanted to write something where I could drown Hyrule, so I did. Personally, I feel like it's one of my more unique pieces because I haven't seen many angsty fics set in Wind's era. I was also able to avoid the topic of cremation, which I'm quite proud of given the existence of Hyrule's blood curse thing he's got going on.

It's Fine, Don't Worry About It, is my main ongoing project at the moment. It's not actually finished yet, but it's one of the fics I've enjoyed working on the most so far. Around July, I started feeling a lot happier and more confident with my writing, and I like to think that it shows in this piece. Especially since I've been trying to convey a lot of complex emotions and hint at some of my headcanons through different characters' POVs.