#and that you've made efforts to correct your mistakes

[indecisive-dizzy]

I don't know what to call the emotion I felt when I saw this but whatever it is I felt it in my soul

[yourelliewillms]

are you in love with me or

something?

ellie williams x reader

summary: you and ellie are friends but there's some (a lot of) tension between you two when you're alone in her car.

hiii, this is my first time writing something AND ALSO in english which is not my first language so there may be poor vocabulary or grammar mistakes, if you find one feel free to correct me <3

no smut !!

a while ago i saw a tiktok like this and i loved it, i needed to write it as ellie x reader that's to say that the idea is not completely mine but i tried to continue the story.

she put one of her fingers between your teeth and don't get this wrong, you two were just playing. you made one of those funny faces that you usually do to her while softly biting her index finger.

"so cute..." ellie said quickly removing her finger out of your mouth and looking away from you.

"what?" you asked as you saw her facing the window, the car in almost completely darkness if that red light from the parking lot wouldn't be shinning on your faces just enough to admire her facial expressions and a bit of the pink blush on her face.

"what?" she replied looking back at you.

"why did you do that?"

"what did i do?"

"look away" you said leaving her in complete silence for a few seconds as you feel the tension between you two growing up by every second passing.

"it's just... you're so pretty" she moved one of her hands back to your face, brushing it against your cheek gently. You could feel your face getting warmer and warmer, almost burning, she could feel it too.

"you're pretty" you replied in a whisper looking at her eyes from which you couldn't admire the beautiful green color due to the red light coming from the window but you could still see them shining.

seconds of silence again that felt like an eternity. this could have been awkward for any other person, but you... oh, you're head over heels for her. you could just look at her face in silence for hours, days, even weeks, and it wouldn't be awkward for you at all.

the same happened to her, but she wasn't relaxed. she could feel her heart beating so fast and loud that you could almost hear it.

her fingers moved to your lips now, oh you were about to faint in that second. she caressed them so carefully, it seemed like she was touching a weak flower that could die in any second. she was looking at them too, so tempted to kiss them but she wasn't brave enough to do it, although that really was the perfect time to kiss you (or make out with you.)

"are you in love with me or something?" she asked, her voice shaking even though she was trying to sound cool, she thought she was acting like a loser.

"hm?" was the only sound you could produce with a smirk on your face. you really didn't hear what she said? or you just want to see if she had the balls to say it again?

"are you in love with me or something?" there. she said it again. it was what you wanted, but you really needed a confirmation since you think this couldn't be true, no, it couldn't be. you should've been dreaming.

"am i in love with you?" you asked her

she nodded, now your doubts a

were confirmed.

"no" you answer. but you two know you're not being honest, she knows it. the smile on her face doesn't fade and her eyes don't leave your lips, not even for a second.

"you want me to be?" you asked again.

"just looks like you are" she whispered. and now your body leaned closer to her. you could feel the butterflies on your stomach tickling all over it, and the imaginary fireworks around you two started shinning beautiful colors when you were about to kiss her. you could appreciate every single detail on her face, her freckles, the pink blush on her cheeks and nose, her green eyer half closed and her lips waiting for yours to touch them. but then a sudden sound came from the back of the car breaking all that romantic atmosphere you two have built with so much effort, you've never experienced something like that, such tension that could be felt in the air, and now jesse and dina were the ones who ruined it by opening the car door shouting and laughing at probably some joke they were telling.

ellie and you sigh and quickly separate from each other. you were about to kiss her and now you don't know how much you have to wait for your next opportunity. the anger on your face and voice tone can't be hidden from jesse and dina.

"are you guys okay? are we interrupting something?" dina asked. your ears were burning and you don't know if it was because of what happened earlier of because of the anger you're feeling. couldn't they wait for just one second before getting into the car? why ruin your best experience with ellie so far?

"we're fine. i'll drive you guys home first, and then i'll drive y/n to her house"

there was ellie, trying so hard to make a move on you and you were so glad. you knew your house was way nearer so she could have driven you home first and then jesse and dina but it was obvious that ellie wanted some more time alone with you with no disruptions this time.

jesse and dina waved goodbye at you and then Ellie drove you home.

or at least that's what you thought but then Ellie parked the car some blocks before arriving to your house.

you looked at her just a bit confused because you already knew what her plan was. your eyes met hers, the green in her eyes could barely be seen because of the darkness in the car.

you've been in silence during the last few minutes and it felt like an eternity. You exchanged around five words since jesse and dina interrupted your almost-make-out-session.

her hand brushed against yours and then she held it while caressing it with both hands. you could feel the warm of her hands on yours travel all over your body reaching your cheeks which immediately turned a dark red color.

one of her hands took yours and lifted it up near to her face and she started leaving little kisses on the back of your hand. she kissed the five fingers of your hand while you were all dizzy just by the sight and the feeling of her soft lips on your skin.

"i am in love with you" she whispered once she finished kissing your hand.

"i know" you replied in a whisper too. "i'm in love with you too" this time your voice was louder.

just a second after that, ellie took your face gently and kissed your lips soft and slowly so you could taste every single inch of her mouth.

the car was in silence, just the sound of your lips kissing each other and some sighs and heavy breathing could be heard and that was enough to make your heart jump fast inside your chest.

i know it's short but it was all my mind could do !! please judge I'd like to get better on this <3

[princessmisery666]

Maverick's Annual Scavenger Hunt - Part 1 of 3

Series Summary: You and Jake have been dancing around each other for a while. The Dagger Squad set it up so that the dancing stops, but a case of miscommunication could ruin it all.

Summary: Everyone wants to win the scavenger hunt prize. Two heads are better than one, so teaming up with Jake should be fun. Right? 

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: Fluff, flirting, teasing.

W/C: 2.5k

Characters: Unnamed female reader (you/she/her), Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace, Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado. Small Parts/Mentioned: The rest of Dagger Squad, Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell, Penny Benjamin. 

Pairing: Hangman x Female Reader. Phoenix x Coyote. Mentioned: Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x Penny Benjamin.

Notes: Reader has a call sign.  

Beta(s): @deanwinchesterswitch // all mistakes are mine. Special shoutout to @writercole

Graphics: made by me on Canva.

Master Lists: Series // Top Gun Maverick // Main

It was a silly game, and you felt ridiculous asking for “Sandals for Maverick.” without any concrete evidence that you were right.

But the Foot Locker sales assistant smirks, “I’ll go get them.”

You sigh happily at not having made a complete fool of yourself.

Each year, Mav invites a select group to participate in a scavenger hunt. He always makes it challenging. Three random objects are to be retrieved and brought to him to win the prize. The prizes vary each year: extra vacation time, an assignment of the winner’s choice, and one spectacular year, the use of Mav’s F50 for an entire weekend, was a reward. 

This year, due to Maverick’s legendary and not generally sanctioned exploits landing him in hot water with Admiral Simpson, it is an all-expenses paid trip to the most highly acclaimed spa in the country. Technically, it had been a trip for him and Penny, but as always, trouble found him. He was lucky to have only his vacation canceled and not be court-martialed. Penny wasn’t happy, even less so when they couldn’t get a refund.

The Dagger Squad are this year’s lucky participants, and two winners will get to stay at the luxury resort for three nights. Mav had dropped hints for the month leading up to game day, and it was up to the squad to figure out what three items were to be found and where.

Sandals were your first thought, and as you rushed to the mall, you had enough time to figure out the other two items. Now that you know your first guess is correct and the sales assistant hands you a brand new pair of Havana’s, you feel a little more confident with the rest. But there is one hiccup to address.

“I know you’re there, Hangman,” you sigh, slipping the sandals into your backpack and zipping it up.

Jake saunters around the display of Air Jordans, arms folded, leaning against the metal shelving. “What gave me away?” 

You aren't about to admit you've noticed the fawning collective trailing behind you as you made your way through the mall. It didn’t take long to realize it wasn’t because of you but the handsome pilot following you. Instead, you snark, “I’m pretty sure they can smell your cologne on the moon.”

He laughs, and as always, it annoys you to no end that your snide remarks never seem to bother him. It’s the school playground all over again. The more you try to discourage him, the more he digs his heels in.

“I like that you know what cologne I wear, Cosmo,” he grins.

You love your call sign - head in the clouds, always wondering how the universe works - but how does he make it sound so dirty? 

His smile is dazzling and you know very few people who can resist it. It takes a lot of effort, but you manage it with a roll of your eyes.

Strolling out of the store, you sigh, “What’d you want, Hangman?” 

“I thought we could team up,” he suggests, chasing after you. “After all, the trip is for two, and I already figured out one of the clues, and you just acquired the second.”

“What did you find?” you ask. 

You don’t need to see the suggestive eyebrow wiggle. It's in his tone, “You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.”

The eye roll produced by his comment gives you a headache. “Has that line ever worked for you?” 

It's a rhetorical question, but he answers anyway. “You’d be surprised.” 

You probably wouldn’t be. The company he keeps isn’t exactly looking for Mensa-level conversation. He zeroes in on the ones that, like him, are looking for a no-fuss hookup, and you assume the easiest and cheesiest pickup lines, accompanied by his Hollywood smile, work every time.

“Easy and cheesy,” you snicker to yourself. 

“Huh, what?” he asks, jogging slightly to fall in line beside you.

“Nothing.” 

“C’mon, what do you say? Teammates?” 

“I have enough of you in the air as your WSO, Seresin, not sure I wanna spend a weekend in a spa with you.”

It’s partly a lie. Jake isn’t so bad when he’s in the air. He was born to fly, and he’s at his most comfortable when he’s doing what he loves. You’d never admit it, but that's when you like him the most. He’s tolerable when he’s in the cockpit, but maybe that has more to do with the fact you can’t see his face and be blinded by his pretty eyes, tanned skin, and perfect jawline.

He jogs ahead, blocking your path, and you have no choice but to stop. “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior,” he pledges, crossing his heart. “You won’t even know I’m there. I have a book I want to read, two new albums I need to listen to without interruption, and a podcast to catch up on. I just wanna relax and eat chips.”

“You eat chips?” you ask and can’t stop your eyes from wandering down the tightly fitted black t-shirt. 

“I do,” he chuckles, gently lifting your chin so you're looking at his face again. 

Crap! Say something horrible to him before his ego gets too big. 

Indelicately, you slap his hand away, snarking, “You read?” 

“I do.” He nods, and you think he actually looks offended. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

He’s right, and that’s been a calculated decision on your part not to get to know him. You are already the outsider, arriving at Fighter Town after the Dagger Squad had become the infamous Dagger Squad. They invited you into the fray with open arms, and you never felt like a newbie, but you didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize the dynamic. Being one of Jake’s conquests would put you firmly in the mission accomplished column, and you didn’t need nor want that kind of reputation. 

You contemplate his proposal, astounded that you're even considering it. If you win, you’d decided to invite Phoenix as your plus one but hadn’t yet extended the invitation. If your suspicions about Phoenix and Coyote are correct, and Phoenix were to win, you would not be the Lieutenant’s first choice.

A weekend of peace and quiet sounds like bliss, and if Jake has all those things to keep him occupied, you’d only really need to see him while traveling to and from the place. 

“Okay,” you say, finally. “We can team up, but I swear if you get in my way, I’ll…. I’ll….” You can’t think of a good enough threat, and he interrupts. 

“You won’t need to do anything to me because I won’t get in your way.” He crosses his heart again, “scouts honor,” holding up his left hand. 

“Wrong hand, dipshit.” 

He laughs, digging in his bag and pulling out a carton of ice cream. It's a plain white tub, not branded, because it’s from Antonio’s, the hidden gem in town. But there’s a sticker on the lid with fancy cursive print that reads Maverick’s Scavenger Hunt 2024, the same sticker on the bottom of the box containing the sandals.

“Sandals for his first official date with Penny on the beach,” you grin, telling Jake the clue you’d figured out. “She got glass in your foot, and he had to carry her a half mile back to the car.”

“Ice cream for his apology to the lactose-intolerant Admiral after he took her on a joyride in his F18,” he explains the clue that led him to ice cream. “I’m not sure about the last one.”

“It’s perfume,” you told him. “After the F18 incident, they were banned from seeing each other. Obviously, they still snuck around, and she sprayed her perfume on his flight suit so she’d always be with him in the air.” 

“That’s actually kind of adorable.” 

“Come on, sappy pants,” you say, deliberately knocking into his shoulder as you walk by him. “We’re gonna win this thing.”

“Sappy pants?” he grumbles but willingly follows.

Winning was the easy part. Spending three nights at a luxury hotel with Jake will be harder than sustaining G-force. Though you are loath to admit it, he’s too easy on the eyes, too much of a flirt, and his unexpected gentlemanly behavior of holding doors, carrying your luggage, and buying your breakfast at the airport is melting your resolve to stay away from him. 

The first sign that the weekend would become a catastrophe was when you checked in. Mav had requested that the booking be changed to a twin room, but the email must have gotten lost in the ether because the room is still a king, and no twins are available. You should have checked the finer details before agreeing to be partners. 

It’s fine. You’ll deal with it and won’t let it ruin the rare weekend off. 

Your first personal mistake was thinking you could survive a weekend with Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin when he wasn’t required to be in uniform. He stripped down to his boxers a minute after entering the room - “wanna wash off the commercial flight smell.” He was less than ten minutes in the bathroom and exited with his hair wrapped in a fluffy white towel and another one snug and low on his hips. 

This is going to be torture.

“Promise is a promise,” he says, walking to his bag on the table, “I’m taking my book, and you won’t see me again.”

Damn it. You wouldn’t mind having him as your view for the day.

“You can take the bed, by the way,” he says. “I’ll ask for more blankets and crash on the floor.”

You want to tell him he doesn’t need to do that, but what's the alternative? You can’t share a bed with him. It would be too close without being close enough.

You smile, grateful. “Well, in that case, dinner is on me.” 

He matches your smile, and you think there’s a hint of a blush on his cheeks, or it could just be the heat from the shower. “Are you asking me on a date?” 

Urgh. Why does he always have to ruin it? Implying that your intentions are more than a friendly gesture. “Not a date. Just dinner.”

“Shame,” he shrugs. “But yeah, okay, dinner.” 

“I’ll make a reservation in the restaurant for seven.”

Jake heads directly to the pool, finds a sun lounger, and delves into his book. Within the first ten pages, the main protagonist is killed off, and his intrigue peaks. He’s happy to wile away the afternoon, topping off his tan and finishing the novel before dinner.

Another five pages in, he spies you exiting the hotel, book in hand, towel in the other, and oversized tee skimming the top of your thighs. 

“Damn,” he mutters to himself.

You look around the pool, and while plenty of loungers are available, you make your way over when you see him. He sits up a little straighter, tensing his abs - giving you a show that he’s pretty confident you want.

“Hey,” you say, “sorry to interrupt.” 

“I’ve had worse interruptions,” he smirks, eyes slipping down to your thighs and back up again. 

You shake your head, smiling lightly. “I couldn’t get a reservation. There’s a wedding rehearsal dinner, so we can’t dine in the restaurant, but we can order room service.”

He nods, “I’m in.”

You look down at the title of his book, and your smile grows. “I’ve read that one,” you comment, “it’s a good one, enjoy.”

You don’t pause long enough for him to say more and take yourself to the other side of the pool, dropping the towel and book onto a free bed. He watches, unashamed that he’s staring, as you pull the t-shirt over your head and reveal a simple black bikini. 

“Fuck,” he says, mentally telling himself to calm down. 

You make yourself comfortable on the bed before opening your book.

He never should have asked to partner up. He’s a man with little willpower and knows he doesn’t have it in him to not hit on you. “Way to torture yourself, Seresin.” 

You feel him staring from across the pool and hope your heavily shaded sunglasses hide that you're also stealing glances at him. You regret bringing a romance novel because, of course, the main character is a cocky, blond cowboy, and your brain immediately Jake codes him.

Your phone chimes, startling you as if someone physically scolded you for staring and fantasizing about your Lieutenant.

>Phoenix: How’s it going? Kissed him yet? 

<Cosmo: What?! No. 

>Phoenix: He kissed you yet? 

<Cosmo: No, and he won’t. More importantly, I don’t want him to. 

>Phoenix: 🙄please. You’ve been crushing on him since you arrived. Go for it. No one has to know.

<Cosmo: Why do I suddenly feel like this is a set-up?

>Phoenix: You have to know none of us even tried looking for the stuff because we wanted you to win. Who do you think told Jake the ice cream answer? Coyote. Who do you think told Jake where to find you at the mall? Me.

<Cosmo: What? Why? 

>Phoenix: Baby, I love you, but you can be so blind sometimes. You like Jake. You can deny it all you want but I think you're being stubborn because you don’t want him to be able to say I told you so. 

<Cosmo: Phoenix, honey, I love you too, but setting me and Jake up so you and Coyote have a couple to double date with is not going to happen. 

>Phoenix: We’ll see. Love you. Have fun. 😜

“I need a drink,” you say, slamming your book closed. 

Jake watches you typing away on your phone, a slight crease in your brow. It’s adorable, and while he daydreams about what he could do to smooth it out, he receives a text. 

>Coyote: Proposed yet?

<Hangman: Screw you. I’m not that into her.  

>Coyote: 🙄please. You’re so blinded by how much you’re into her you can’t see how much you’re into her. 

He doesn’t have a witty retort because he’s confided, seemingly too much, in Coyote. Coyote’s encouragement won’t help matters, and he promised himself he’d behave. You have rejected his advances more than once, and he needs to accept that nothing is going to happen.

>Coyote: Seriously, dude, now is the perfect time to show her you’re more than your smart mouth and shiny abs. 

Jake needs to shut this down before Coyote twists his arm just enough to convince him.

<Hangman: Hi Phoenix 🙄. 

>Coyote: She says hi and go get your girl already.

Jake closes his book. He won’t be able to concentrate now. He sighs loudly, “I need a drink.” When he looks across the pool again, you’re pulling on your oversized tee and collecting your things.

Part 2 - The Full Seresin Service

Tags + Info

@alexxavicry / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @imjess-themess / @justagirlinafandomworld / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @shanimallina87 / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @xoxabs88xox / @dempy / @atarmychick007 / @genius2025 / @kmc1989 / @alipap3 / @emorychase

[sipitdownlikecherrysoup]

i noticed - l.jn # 1

chapter 1. an evening dress to remember. (3.1k)

pairing: regency era gentleman! jeno x dressmaker! reader

blurb: Y/N is a popular dressmaker in regency-era london, and foolishly decides to gatecrash the first ball of the season: a masquerade. even a mask can't stop jeno from noticing that she doesn't belong.

tags: fem & she/her reader, present tense, use of Y/N, reader is paranoid, jeno is incredibly observant, i know nothing about embroidery/tailoring but i try my best, inspired by benedict's story (bridgerton).

Your heart pounds so rapidly in your chest that it feels like it might explode, and you feel terribly sick. You worry that the insane amount of effort you’d put into this dress will be ruined with the amount you've sweat in your anxiety. 

Maybe you are making a mistake. No, you definitely are, but it's a little too late to back out now. You are already at the ball. The famed Lee Masquerade Ball. The Lee’s always have the privilege of opening the season with their extravagant masquerade, and it's a favorite among many of the high-society families you now find yourself surrounded with. 

You should be having an excellent time yourself, just like the blushing young ladies on the dance floor, and the men happily chatting alongside a tower of sparkling drinks so high that you would definitely send yourself into the cardiac arrest you’re so worried about should you attempt to take a glass for yourself. The only problem is that it's hard to have much fun when you’re worried that someone will discover that you do not belong here.

Should anybody notice that perhaps your posture is incorrect, or your manners aren't quite right, or that you do not know the correct way to formally address many of these guests, or Heaven forbid somebody recognises you as their dressmaker, you will be thrown out of London for good. You’ll lose your home, the flourishing career you have built for yourself, your whole life. 

All you had wanted was to experience what a ball was like yourself. The young ladies that frequent your store gush about them all day long. You’ve heard so many tales of the fanciful foods, the most amazing music, and mesmerizing decorations that could make you feel transported to another world. And you know nearly half of the dresses in this very room were hand designed, or even hand tailored by yourself, as well as a decent portion of the gentlemens’ clothing, too. Foolishly, selfishly, you had thought maybe you deserved to attend one of these events after all your hard work. And even if it is as magical as those young ladies made it sound, is it worth all the risk?

This is a mistake.

“If you stare at that tower much longer, you might be able to make it fall with that piercing gaze alone.” A voice shakes you out of your thoughts, making you startle. It’s soft but deep, too, and comes from much closer than you thought anybody was to where you had tried to hide yourself in a far corner of the room. 

When you turn to face the owner of the mysterious voice, your breath catches in your throat. 

Like yourself, some guests to the masquerade opt for a look that conceals their identity. Some say it's part of the fun. For you, it is a genuine disguise. 

Others opt for a simple mask that does little to hide their identity.

The thin and sleek, deep-blue mask adorning Jeno Lee’s face does nothing to disguise him, and the fact that you are speaking to one of the hosts of this prestigious event does nothing to calm your nerves. 

You had only seen him once, when he accompanied his mother to the store over a year ago and she insisted he purchase a new pair of silk-white gloves. Startlingly, you realize he is wearing them right now. 

It must amuse Jeno, the way you stare at him, slack-jawed and wordless and dumb, if the way he smiles gently at you has anything to say about it.

“Did you want one?” He asks you, politely. 

“I Want… One?” Is all you manage to speak brokenly

He blinks at you, a faint smile gracing his lips again. “A drink. From the tower. I can fetch one for you if you wish.” 

You spy an opportunity to escape, to send him on his way and dart out of this far-too-big house, to run all the way back to your cozy apartment above the shop and forget this ever happened, so you nod and try your best to match his niceties, “If you would, please, I would be grateful.”

You know something you said was wrong from the way his eyebrows crease ever so slightly but he doesn't call you out on it. He must be too polite.

“Very well.” He turns to approach the drink tower in question before pausing, swiveling on his heels to look at you again, “I apologize. I didn't get your name, Miss…?” He prompts, looking at you expectantly. 

Your brain short circuits. You swear you can feel it pouring from your ears as you fumble wildly for a response. Your name— No! Not your name! Any name but your name.

“Miss… Throckbottom!” You squeak out, only to internally wince when your words reach your ears. Somehow, you have mixed up the worst aspects of two of your clients surnames. Lord Throckmorton, and Lady Oakenbottom. Curiously, it sounds a lot like ‘rock bottom’ and that is exactly how you feel right now. 

Still, Jeno has that stupid, and yet incredibly endearing, amused but polite smile. His eyes crinkle this time, too, so you know you’ve really humored him. You worry that he will question you, or that he knows but he only happily replies, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Throckbottom.” 

The moment he turns away from you, the escape plan begins. Your eyes dart around the room to locate the nearest exit and then you break for it. In your haste, you try to exit a different way than you entered and get utterly lost in a maze of hallways that seem to stretch on forever. 

As you race around the corridors, finding several rooms that seem only to be filled with different types of chairs, multiple locked doors, and a large hall that surely rivaled even the finest art galleries with the collection adorning it's walls, you panic about how deep into this mansion you now are. If you are caught so far away from where you should be, you will be all the more suspicious. And what if you are assumed to be a thief?! Forget being banished from London, you would be thrown straight to the execution block! 

Looping back around on yourself, you barely have any air left in your burning lungs when you make it back to the ballroom, but you are rewarded with a hopeful glimpse of your way out. You try your best to casually make your way across the entire ballroom, sticking to the far edges and drawing as little attention to yourself as possible. Your heart aches when you pass by a tray of sweets unlike any you had ever seen, but you could not risk stopping to try them. Not when you were so close to getting out. 

Finally, you reach the door, but just as you are about to duck and run, a hand catches yours to gently pull you indoors before it lets go. It’s firm and yet much gentler than you would have assumed given that whoever had grabbed you surely wants you arrested or put to death. 

“There you are, Miss…” 

He snuck up on you again. Just who is Mister Lee that he has the ability to go entirely undetected by your senses!? What kind of training does he have? Does he know that you were running about his house like a headless chicken just minutes ago? Has he been following you undetected the whole time? 

Despite your thoughts getting away from you, you muster the strength to turn and face Jeno, planning on at least attempting to defend yourself. You are shocked still by the careful concern written across his face, and dancing in his eyes, entirely unhidden by the flimsy mask he wears. He looks worried, terribly so, about you, you realize. As if he’s aware of the dangerous situation that you have gotten yourself into.

But he can’t be. Not when he says, “Are you unchaperoned, Miss? Surely you should not be. I was surprised when you had vanished.” 

Of course. This is the polite gentleman you had been speaking to, after all. He would be worried about the safety and honor of any lady. It doesn't have anything to do with you in particular.

You shake your head quickly, trying your best to lie your way out of this, “No, my mama is somewhere around here. I only wanted some fresh air, but I forgot myself. It would not do well to leave alone, thank you for the reminder.”

You spot the drink in his hand, the one you had requested, or rather the one he had asked you if you wanted. He had been carrying it around dutifully, then. 

“Perhaps a drink will cool my nerves, actually.” You add, trying your best to come up with a convincing story, “I apologize for leaving so suddenly. This is my first ball and I am rather nervous.”

Jeno passes you the drink, but you don't miss the inquisitive look in his expression, like once again you’ve said something wrong. This time, he does not ignore your mistake. 

“Ah, this is your debut season? You are… somewhat older than the usual debutante, but I can appreciate that it is likely still nerve wracking.” 

Shit. You had thought it would be good cover to play the clueless debutante. It would explain your lack of manners, and your nerves, but you were not sixteen, nor seventeen, nor even eighteen, but twenty-three! You’re not sure whether to be upset or not that he can tell your age from behind your mask. 

You panic, totally blanking, before digging yourself deeper into the hole of lies, “W-well! You see, my family is not… so… wealthy, at the moment, and we have had to save for my dowry… so…” You give up talking and then down the drink, far too quickly, almost choking on the slight burn of the alcohol. You had not realized it would have strong liquor in it. 

Jeno watches you closely, just as he has been the entire time you’ve been speaking to him. Again, he appears endeared, presumably by the way you just threw back your drink, and then he looks as though he has an idea.

“Would you like to share a dance?” 

He looks so genuine as he asks you, like maybe he truly does wish to dance with you. You cannot think of a single reason why. Perhaps he is trying to help you appear more desirable, then? He really is kind. 

“Yes.” 

No. What are you doing? Why did you agree? 

You don't have time to think about that because a pleased-looking Jeno is already leading you towards the floor, and somehow he is perfectly timed with the beginning of the next song. A song that you have no idea how to dance to. You don't know how to dance to any song!

Jeno takes one of your hands into his, and then places the other onto your waist. Thankfully, this appears to be a slow dance rather than anything too complicated. You quickly respond by resting your free hand on his shoulder, and then try your best to follow his lead as the dance starts. 

It's evident almost immediately that you have no idea what you're doing. You’re staring down at your feet instead of looking at him. Even with such simple steps, you’re treading on his feet and messing up the timing. Your eyes snap up to his face worriedly, but there isn't any judgment. Instead, Jeno simply looks contemplative before he leans closer to ask you a question in a hushed voice, “Have you never danced before?” 

Your head is spinning. He’s so close. You’ve never been this close to a man before, not even when tailoring their suit jackets to perfectly fit their arms— and goodness, does Jeno’s jacket fit him well. You are almost mad that you didn't get to tailor it yourself. 

It’s almost a relief that Jeno doesn't seem to require an answer to his question, unbothered that you stare dumbly at him once again, because he certainly already knows the answer. The hand resting at the side of your waist shifts, curling around your lower back, and then he pulls you closer still. He smells faintly of cedarwood and orange blossom and it nearly sends you into a frenzy because why is it so good? You think whatever he is doing to your mind, the way he is hypnotizing you, has tricked you into feeling that you are floating. 

Until you realize that your feet are not on the ground. Jeno is lifting you, with the strength of only one arm, so that you are just barely hovering from the ground. The skirts of your dress are long enough that they still touch the ground, concealing the fact that Jeno is all but puppeteering you into the perfect dancer. 

You must look shocked because Jeno whispers to confirm that you are alright with this before you quickly school your expression back to neutrality and nod. 

It's far too fun dancing with him like this, or just being spun around given that it's very little work for your part. It doesn't look like it's any effort for Jeno either, somehow. How crazy is this guy's core strength, anyways? It wasn't too typical for a gentleman to be that strong, because why would they need to be?

There is a subtle mirth dancing in his eyes when he continues prodding at your facade, “It is strange to neglect to teach a debutante to dance when that is the prime tactic for capturing a suitor.” 

Call you crazy but you might even think that Jeno is having fun, too. At your expense. 

“We could not afford dance lessons.” You grasp onto that same excuse from earlier, hoping he will let it go.

“Ah, then you must have been planning to charm a suitor some other way.” Jeno muses, and he’s still giving you that soft smile that makes you want to just melt, “From what I have seen, you do not seem to be conversationally gifted either, perhaps you have other talents?”

You have half a mind to scowl at him but manage to refrain. It would be too risky to claim being talented in areas you're unable to talk about, especially when you’ve painstakingly learned how curious Jeno is. You know nothing of pianoforte or watercolors, but embroidery you know.

“Needlework.” You say, before remembering to expand on the subject, “It is my greatest passion. I am never prouder of myself than when I am able to create a unique pattern.”

Unfortunately, you find it hard to stop yourself from rambling too much. 

“The pattern on my gloves, for example, uses multiple types of stitching to create what looks like drooping wisteria. Mostly the herringbone stitch and the continental knot stand out, hm, but the humble chain stitch should not go unforgotten. It is a classic.” 

Jeno appears to look at your gloves with an incredible intensity that almost makes you clam up self-consciously before he begins his praise, “It is fine work. Your modiste could be jealous.”

You tried to hide your nervous laughter behind a smile, feeling warm from his compliments, but dying inside at the ironic image of feeling jealousy towards yourself. 

The conversation lulls, but it's a comfortable silence you find yourself in whilst your eyes drift to take in the scenery of the ballroom again. 

You catch a glare from a short, pretty-looking lady and immediately you tense up. It's not just her, the woman next to her is glaring too, and you recognise her as one of your customers, wearing a dress you’d finished laboring over just days ago. You quickly scan the room to find that there are hardly any ladies not giving you some form of nasty look, and there are plenty of gentlemen looking your way as well. 

But of course the ladies are giving you such evil looks. You are dancing with Mister Lee, arguably the most desirable bachelor in the ton, perhaps only aside from his titled brother, though maybe still preferable based on the way you had seen debutantes fawn over his ‘handsome visage, kind eyes, and kinder still personality’ many a time while taking their measurements. The man that holds the supposed unofficial record for highest number of ladies trying to faint on him at a single event, as rumor has it, was still looking only at you. The Jeno Lee that many mothers had scorned whilst waiting for their daughters to finish trying their new gowns on for the fact that he has yet to announce his intention to marry is ever so close to you. The very Jeno that currently has an arm tightly wrapped around you is renowned for putting off his need to marry because he would much rather spend his time at home than at high society parties, so of course the fact that you are taking up so much of his time makes you the target of every unwed lady from here to… The rest of England! 

You feel dizzy from all of the attention, from how you can feel the hundreds of pairs of eyes glued to you. 

You need to leave. As soon as this dance is over. As soon as he lets you back onto the ground.

Almost as if you had pleaded hard enough to the Gods, the dance ends just as you will it to. Jeno finally lets you go. He’s wordless, but again there's something questioning in his eyes that you ignore. You offer your best, and yet definitely still shoddy, curtsey to Jeno and immediately hightail it back towards the main door. 

You have no idea what possesses you but you turn your head back for one last look, unable to stop yourself, to see that Jeno is standing stock still in the middle of the dance floor, watching you leave. His gaze does not falter, it almost burns into you. He makes no move to follow you this time, in fact, he makes no move at all, much to the confusion of the other attendees that watch him linger alone in the dancefloor even after it has been abandoned by everyone else. He just watches you, and then everybody else does as well. That seems to snap him from his daze, and then he’s walking away from the floor but you don't bother to look long enough to find out where to. 

You focus back on your escape, near running now and it isn't long before you are through the door. 

You do not stop running, and you do not look back again.

---

author's note:

thank you so much for reading <3. this is the first time i've published on this blog, so i hope it's well-received. i can make a taglist going forward if anybody is interested, and please stay tuned for part 2! i have at least 8 parts planned overall :). thanks very much to cherry for proofreading this for me <33. - soup

[taska-rokanh]

Befriending Spock Headcanons

My first Star Trek content! Spock is my favorite character by far and I feel like he needs some love. A lot of my Star Trek content will be romantic, but I feel like especially with Spock, it's necessary to explore the first steps of just becoming friends, because it's harder to break down his walls and he's not one to just act on attraction at first sight.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.1 k

- People have very different, often very polarizing opinions on Commander Spock. You'd heard more than enough stories about how cold, calculating, unforgiving, and inhuman he was. 

- But when you met him, all you could think was that he was so cool.

- He was incredibly intelligent, capable of making smart and informed decisions regarding basically any situation that affected the ship in minutes, and always acted with absolute certainty. Despite that, he did not want a command of his own and readily accepted his own mistakes, readjusting accordingly. What was there not to admire?

- You tried your best to be friendly, but you knew it was a long shot. Not only was he a Vulcan, he was your commanding officer. You weren't sure how he regarded any sort of personal relationship, really.

- Still, you found yourself engaging him in light conversation in the halls, the mess hall, or the lift. You broke it off quickly if it didn't seem like he wanted to talk, which surprisingly was very infrequent. If you got him talking about science, or the history and philosophy of Vulcan, it was quite easy to get him to talk.

- Spock is... I'm not sure how he would describe it, but I suppose, pleasantly surprised to find someone that not only tolerates his discussion of such topics, but actively pursues them.

- Whether you know it or not, you've chosen the most effective method of breaking the ice.

- Spock encourages this by consulting you on data that is outside of the normal scope of your duties as often as possible. He enjoys being challenged, and surmises that you must, as well. You have a natural curiosity and a scientific mind, one that with proper training could even attain his level of authority in time. These discussions don't feel like replacement training sessions so much as informal academic chatter, though.

- Spock starts to show that he considers you a friend through verbal encouragement first. It's often very dry and hard to detect, but it's there.

- He once corrected you regarding a postulation you'd made when analyzing some data that was adjacent to your field. You said, "Oh, right, that makes more sense. Sorry, I'm a little stupid sometimes," out of habit, something that you knew you should probably grow out of.

- He looked at you, perplexed. "Ensign, you should not insult yourself for being unaware of a highly specialized piece of information that allowed me to see the facts in this particular light. Every scientist, no matter how intelligent, has their blind spots."

- You smiled at his encouragement before raising your eyebrow in doubt. "Even you?"

- Spock hesitated for a moment before considering his ineptitude in handling his friendship with his captain and now, it appeared, you as well. "Of course."

- You didn't believe him, but thought it was sweet of him to say so. "Thanks, Commander."

- "You may call me Mr. Spock, or Spock, if you prefer."

- "Sure thing, Mr. Spock."

- The Mr. gets dropped shortly after.

- Every smile you manage to get out of him is an absolute treasure, as it is very rare. Something tells me that the first smile he gives you would be in a situation in which you are distressed and he is trying to reassure you, perhaps he sustained a nasty injury and you are very concerned. The smile is fleeting and feels a little unnatural, but the effort he put into it was enough to convince you that he would recover. little did you know there was little effort expended--seeing your care for him, it was almost irresistible.

- Every smile you give him is treasured by him, though they are so much more frequent. It is true that humans smile with so little provocation, but it's still nice to know sometimes that he's the reason and not the butt of some joke (looking at you, Kirk and Bones)

- There are two facts about Vulcans that are very relevant to this situation: 1) Vulcans are touch telepaths, meaning that touch is very, incredibly personal and reserved for special situations (except for Sarek and Amanda cuz they're whores), and 2) Vulcans are, in fact, very emotional people.

- Keeping these facts in mind, there must be some way for Spock to express his feelings of appreciation and camaraderie for you, and it cannot be in the average human manner (handshakes, pats on the back, high fives)

- So instead, he takes a more vested interest in your wellbeing, asking if you've eaten, drank water, slept, etc. especially when you've come back from an away mission and are busy analyzing new data.

- You often seem to find each other following each of the Enterprise's adventures. These are often time-sensitive and life-threatening, and as a low-ranking science officer, often your only orders are to stay put and protect yourself. 

- The first time or two after you've become friends, you try to hide how shaken you are--you know you're fine, really. You just can't help that your reaction to coming down off the adrenaline high is to literally shake and sometimes cry a bit.

- However, Spock sees through what you're trying to do and reassures you that you are safe. "I know."

- "I intended to convey that you are safe to express any emotions you may currently be experiencing."

- Oh.

- You usually end up sitting with Spock somewhere, your quarters, your lab, the mess hall, the holodeck, shaking and crying before recovering after a bit. The emotional expression always makes Spock a bit uncomfortable--not because he's disgusted by it, but because he doesn't have/doesn't feel comfortable expressing the skills or the emotional intelligence needed to interact with them. 

- His simply being there is enough. You recover in 15 minutes or so and can carry on as before.

- "Have you considered consulting Dr. McCoy regarding the management of your anxiety surrounding these events? They seem to cause you a high degree of stress."

- You shrugged. "It's just my body's response, it doesn't bother me," you reassured him. "Besides, I've got you."

- The feeling of being needed in a way not associated with his intelligence or his duty was unexpectedly welcome.

- In time, he comes to take a more active role, bringing you food and water while you're working or offering to make a bit of progress on your work while you take a short rest--Vulcans don't require as much sleep as humans, after all.

- After a while of this, you mention to him that you feel that you could be a more proactive friend, when he takes so much time and effort to look out for you, and ask him what you could do.

- He looks at you, perplexed. "Your presence in my life is quite sufficient," he assures you. "Your companionship proves to be a gratifying part of my daily routine in any measure."

- He has no idea how sweet he can be.

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC Lucien’s On Fire MQ translation + video with sub EN (Part 3/3)

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for an MQ that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

On Fire MQ | Part 1 (1-2) | Part 2 (3-4) | Part 3 (5-6) | Moisturize ASMR

[Warning]: The content of this MQ is currently the most explicit compared to other dates and may not be suitable for individuals under the age of 17 (CN server). It is recommended that those who do not meet this age requirement refrain from proceeding beyond this point.

Part 3 & 4-> [Here]

✂———————–

[Subbed Video, TURN ON CC!]

✂———————–

—[Part 5]— Video Timestamp [31:11]

The kitchen is filled with all sorts of ingredients.

After studying a few recipes, Lucien starts by cleaning the vegetables one by one, arranging them neatly based on size and color.

I put the excess ingredients into the refrigerator and see him preparing to chop vegetables on the cutting board. His movements are meticulous yet unfamiliar.

MC: Do you want some help?

Lucien arches an eyebrow ever so slightly, then frees up one hand to pull me behind him, his voice gentle.

Lucien: Yes, then come closer and help me, okay?

I wrap my arms around Lucien from behind, adjusting his hand to control the force and posture of chopping vegetables.

MC: [smiles softly]...Are you sure about this?

Lucien: Mm, I'm not particularly skilled at this. This position makes it easy for you to correct me at any time.

I wrap my arm around him with some struggle. I can feel his heat seeping through our clothes, causing a slight warmth in my ears.

Unwittingly, I remember the first time I spent New Year's Eve with Lucien. He also once stood behind me and wrapped his arm around me under the pretext of learning to make dumplings.

MC: ...Then, I'll make an effort to not get distracted.

MC: It's better to cut in from this angle...

Two people working together noticeably accelerate the process. After the pot is ready, Lucien and I stand on either side of it, seasoning it together.

Seasonal vegetables lose their raw appearance in the sizzling hot oil, transforming into delectable dishes on the dining table.

MC: The colors are right, and the cuts are similar. At least in terms of appearance, we've perfectly replicated these dishes.

MC: I just wonder how they taste. These dishes look so good, they couldn't possibly be bad, right?

Lucien: They're definitely going to be delicious. After all, we made them together.

Lucien: However, in the coming year, I will try my best to break away from this lady’s help and lead this process independently.

MC: Hehe, it's okay if you don't break away.

MC: I'm happy to accompany you and enjoy this process together. Plus, occasionally being Professor Lucien's "guide", I couldn't ask for more.

Lucien glances at me with a smile on his face, then bends down to kiss me lightly on the eyes.

Lucien: [chuckle then KISS!!!!] Since I have your permission, I won't insist on proving myself anymore.

Lucien: In the days ahead, accompany me to tackle more complex menus.

At the dining table, Lucien picks up his chopsticks, slowly bringing each dish to his mouth. He chews carefully, seeming to savor the unique taste of each dish

Though it's just an ordinary lunch, he eats with exceptional seriousness.

Lucien: The change in cutting technique has a much greater impact on the crispness of the vegetables than I anticipated.

MC: It's subtle, isn't it? Even though the cooking method remains the same, just changing the cutting technique makes the texture much crispier!

Lucien: Hmm, it's also interesting to stew meat with fruits.

MC: Hehe, that's because fruit acids not only tenderize the muscle tissue but also blend in smoothly with the flavor.

Lucien: [chuckles] So, although all these dishes are delicious, I particularly enjoy the stew you've added your ingenuity to.

It's rare to see him provide detailed commentary on dishes beyond just "delicious", and I can't help but raise my chin in pride.

MC: I've actually made some observations before when cooking. Just a slight change in the dish can make a huge difference in taste!

MC: It's kind of like the difference between the front leg meat and the hind leg meat, very distinct!

Lucien's gaze, which was originally focused on tasting the dishes, shifts towards me. Under the lamplight, his eyes soften, as gentle as water flowing into a stream.

Lucien: This classmate's metaphors are always so imaginative.

Lucien: It seems like every inch of the world you perceive is so vibrant and intriguing—

Lucien: Just like these rich dishes, they can evoke a range of emotions and also spark inspiration.

I prop my chin up, looking at him with interest.

MC: If that's the case, then I also want to be the “fruit” in the stew, making Professor Lucien even "sweeter"~

MC: Every happy and interesting experience in my perception, I want you to experience them together with me~

Lucien's eyes soften, and he taps his knuckles gently on the table.

Lucien: [whispers] In that case, can we do something fun together right now?

My eyes light up, and I stand up, walking over to his side. I cup his face in my hands, smiling as we lock eyes.

MC: Of course, then... what do you want to do?

Before I finish speaking, Lucien's hand gently lowers my head, and he plants a light kiss on my lips.

Although it's just a gentle touch, and although the atmosphere isn't ambiguous, I feel my heart beating wildly due to the unexpected intimacy.

I look at him with a flushed face, seeing overflowing tenderness in his eyes, and a magnified reflection of myself.

Lucien: I want to thank this lady who “shares the world” with me.

Then, he leans down, slowly closing the distance between us—

Until our hearts and minds feel the same frequency, melding together into the gentle twilight.

As the last rays of twilight fall, Lucien invites me to experience the festival in this small town.

Lanterns adorned with festive decorations hang on the streetlights, and the air is filled with the scent of firecrackers.

As New Year's Eve approaches, there are already many stalls in the small night market, with couplets, paper-cut decorations, and various potted plants joyfully arranged together.

MC: These paper-cut decorations are quite ordinary, yet they're selling for two digits. They're not as pretty as the ones you've made, but I just bought something really nice!

I take out a box of pink, peach-shaped pastries and hand one to Lucien.

MC: "Longevity Peach Buns"~ Would you like to try one?

Lucien takes a bite, his brows furrowing momentarily as he examines the bun in his hand with a hint of skepticism.

Lucien: [smiles helplessly] I wouldn't recommend it.

Even Lucien, who isn't usually picky about food, expressed dissatisfaction with the bun, which piqued my interest.

I take a bite, and the dry bun with a hint of artificial flavoring fails to satisfy even basic taste expectations.

MC: Uh...!

MC: [unamused] Although it's not tasty, it does look festive... Let's just display it at home when we get back.

Lucien smiles and shakes his head, then picks up a set of spring festival couplets from a nearby stall.

Lucien: The wording on these couplets seems rather ordinary.

Lucien: I'm thinking, why don't we buy some raw materials and try writing our own couplets at home?

MC: Sounds good! Then when the God of Wealth arrives, he'll see that the couplets we've put up are heartfelt and sincere.

MC: If he's in a good mood, who knows, maybe we'll strike it rich~

From the "福" (fortune/blessings) character for the front door to the refrigerator and even the shoe cabinet, to the money tree for the entrance and the glowing little dragon...

As we chat and laugh, the bags we're carrying are already overloaded.

We load the bags into the car and return to our seats. Just as I start to fasten my seatbelt, Lucien pushes open the car door again.

Lucien: I suddenly remembered there's something else I need to buy.

MC: Then I'll go with you.

Lucien: No need, it's right nearby. I'll be back soon.

Before I could react, Lucien had already closed the car door and disappeared into the bustling crowd once again.

✂———————–

—[Part 6]— Video Timestamp [36:42]

(T/N: if you haven't watched the video, please watch it from this timestamp! The BGM choice + voice acting really help set the mood~)

MC: What did Lucien go to buy...?

Snacks, or decorations? Before my thoughts can stray any further, Lucien's figure returns to the car with bags in hand.

MC: You're back!

The car door is pulled open, and along with Lucien’s scent, the chilly wind brings in a subtle smell... of gunpowder?

Lucien: [chuckles] I bought some fireworks...

MC: Oh~

Lucien: And firecrackers.

MC: [surprised] Eh?

I widen my eyes and look into the bag. Besides a few fireworks, there are…

MC: O- one-thousand-firecrackers-rolls and firework rockets?

Seeing my reaction, Lucien satisfactorily curls up the corners of his lips.

Lucien: As an "experiencer," of course I must try some sufficiently exciting things.

The car, loaded with goods, returns to our courtyard. Lucien parks the car and, together with me, we unroll the long red firecrackers on the ground.

The long firecrackers snake around like a red dragon lying on the ground, almost covering the entire courtyard.

I hold the lighter, watching the fuse that is about to ignite the firecrackers and can’t help but feel nervous in my heart.

MC: Lucien, could you, could you wait a moment? I'm not quite mentally prepared yet!

Lucien: [chuckles] Then allow me.

Lucien seems to chuckle softly. Before I can react, he has already struck the match, and the flame dances on his fingertips.

The fuse instantly ignites, speeding forward like a shooting star. I quickly grab Lucien's hand tightly, pulling him away as we run.

The next second, the firecrackers erupt like an awakened dragon, emitting a thrilling roar.

My body instinctively tenses, and I hastily cover Lucien's ears while he does the same for mine.

(the way they instinctively protect each other instead of themselves :”…)

His broad palm reassuringly shields those startling explosions.

Despite the barrier, my hearing becomes even more acute, listening as the firecrackers "rampage" through the courtyard.

I look at Lucien, in the faint red glow, his face is coated with a shimmering warm light, and from beginning to end, his lips are always brimming with a smile.

The bright light swiftly dashes through the dark night. After the long-lasting thousand blasts fade away, the air in the courtyard seems to have turned red.

Lucien waves his hand in front of him, trying to dispel the pungent smell of firecrackers, yet the smile on his lips never falters.

Lucien: Whether it's from the sense of hearing or the sense of smell... The stimulation I'm receiving is far more excessive than I anticipated.

MC: Many things you just have to experience firsthand to truly feel them!

MC: Just like I've come to realize, besides with the beauty of fireworks, Professor Lucien and the firecrackers are also quite "compatible"!

Lucien raises an eyebrow and takes out all the remaining fireworks and firecrackers from the car.

Lucien: That sentence sounds like a stereotypical impression of "Professor Lucien".

Lucien: Fortunately, tonight happens to be a good opportunity for "out with the old, in with the new."

The night sky stretches endlessly, as dark as a piece of black velvet, while the courtyard ground is scattered with remnants of red firecrackers.

Lucien stands between the darkness of the night and the redness around him, with the match he ignites in his hand being the only source of light around.

This glimmer of light remains silent, yet always manages to ignite clusters of earth-shattering fireworks in my world.

So I walk towards him, and together we light up all these fireworks.

The light flies into the night sky, showering down gently, casting warm hues upon us.

And beside me, Lucien's smiling expression is just like the fireworks filling up the sky.

In the end, Lucien and I left a few fireworks unlit and returned to the car for warmth.

The distant sound of firecrackers can be faintly heard, with occasional fireworks lighting up the night sky, illuminating the scene inside the car.

We sit side by side in the back seat, enjoying a moment of tranquility after the playful revelry.

Bright light filters through the car window, casting ambiguous light and shadows on Lucien's face. I trace his profile, and my heart is filled with joy.

MC: Looking back, we've had a lot of fun in just a few days.

MC: Going to the home exhibition together, selecting ingredients and cooking together, wandering through the festival night market, and even setting off fireworks and firecrackers...

MC: I wonder how Professor Lucien feels about this "town trip"?

Lucien meets my expectant gaze, but instead of immediately responding, he ponders for a moment.

Lucien: I've thought of many different answers, many different adjectives.

Lucien: Happiness, warmth, contentment... Each word seems to encapsulate my feelings, yet they all appear a little shallow.

I listen earnestly, reaching out my hand to intertwine with his palm.

Lucien: Whether it's in the warm room, cooking together under the bright lights, or lighting firecrackers together and making "noise".

Lucien: At the moment of accomplishing these things, I have a vague feeling.

Lucien: These seem to be things I've never consciously longed for but deeply desire to do.

Lucien: And year after year, in the New Year, you've helped me realize these, even wishes that I myself didn't fully grasp.

Lucien pauses unusually as if carefully considering his words. After a while, he simply casts his gaze toward me.

Lucien: So if there's anything missing, it's that I want my little lady to feel my happiness.

MC: I've already felt it...

But Lucien gently shakes his head.

Lucien: I want to paint it more vividly for you. Not through carefully crafted rhetoric, perhaps not even by speaking.

(T/N: insert the solemn, melancholic, yet hopeful 5th anniv special theatre BGM 😭 if you've read this far and haven't watched the video, I’d actually beg you to watch 🥺 The timestamp is: [42:09] )

Lucien gently takes my hand and places it over his heart.

In an instant, the world quieted down.

With the familiar heartbeat in my palm, it feels as if the overflowing sense of happiness is also held within my grasp.

"Thump, thump," resounding as if echoing through the entire universe. And it speaks—

Lucien is very happy, very content with life.

And so am I.

At this moment, I seem to also taste the shallowness of "words", for no matter how many words are spoken, they can't fully express the deep love beating in my heart.

So I recklessly approached him, wanting to convey my most profound feelings to him.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, my fingertips threading through his soft hair, as I lean in closer, Lucien gently but firmly pulls me into his embrace.

The smell of gunpowder fills my nostrils, seemingly carrying the heat capable of igniting flames with it.

The lips merely brush against each other, then clinging lovingly and inseparably, unwilling to part ever again.

Our tongues entwine as if thirsting, drawing out every bit of sweetness, until our breaths become so chaotic that they can't be distinguished from each other.

Can a deep kiss express this love? Can a long embrace reveal the yearning in the depths of our hearts?

While thinking about all this in a daze, Lucien's whisper comes to my ear.

Lucien: [whispers breathlessly] Is this kiss enough to explain it all?

MC: Not enough...

I instinctively spoke out, not knowing whether I was answering him or telling myself.

Upon hearing this, with one arm still around me, Lucien unbuttons his shirt with his other hand, revealing his well-defined physique.

Lucien: [chuckles and whispers] Then tonight, I will lay bare all of myself to you, okay?

His eyes still carry a faint smile, but they are moist as if they've captured light, burning and deeply sincere.

I nod and kiss the corner of his eye, taking in all of him.

His warm lips carry a slightly wet sensation as they wander over my body, igniting my skin like clusters of flame.

The intimate and meticulous licking makes me feel like I'm about to melt, my body instinctively tensing up, sliding towards the only fulcrum.

Lucien: [noises of him eating… something, and sighs in satisfaction] ….

The fingers holding my calves suddenly tighten, pulling them wider apart. I sit back heavily and then whimper out in pain.

MC: [blushing] Lucien….

My voice comes out sweetly and aggrievedly, elongating the end of his name with a deliberate undertone. It sounds like pleading for mercy yet also carries a tacit demand.

The sound of muffled laughter reaches my ears, Lucien flips over to be on top of me and presses me down, kissing me on the lips.

Between the disorganized breaths, he murmurs something on the tip of his tongue.

Lucien: [whispers] Sorry, does it hurt a bit?

I nod, but in contrast to my answer, I thrust my hips upward, wanting to fit even closer to him. In the process, I almost hit my head on the car door, but Lucien protected me.

The decorations on my clothes roughly brush against Lucien's exposed skin as he moves, causing him to tremble lightly.

Lucien: [chuckles] These little decorations are a bit in the way.

Those words are much colder than his kisses, and I can't help but watch my heart beat faster as he gently picks at them and lets the decorations fall.

It's just that there seem to be more and more things that get in the way between us… the top, the belt, and the skirt, they all seem a bit unnecessary.

The car's air conditioning blows dry, warm air, dispersing the remaining traces of coldness on our skin.

The moist sensation behind my ears makes me feel like I'm lying on a stream, his voice, hoarse and low, reveals a fervent longing.

Lucien: [hoarsely] Now, can you understand this feeling clearly?

My heart beats fiercely, and within my hazy consciousness, I seem to hear the emotions hidden behind Lucien's questions.

Instinctively, I tighten my arms around his neck and wrap my legs behind his waist. My hand gently caresses him.

MC: I think... I still need more time to understand.

MC: This is what you want too, isn't it?

Lucien’s laughter-tinged voice drifts into my ears.

Lucien:  [whispers followed by more wet kiss noises] The night is still very long.

The ambiguous warmth inside the car envelops us like the steam of a hot spring, carrying us into the clouds.

It seems there are small trinkets on the dashboard that can't withstand the shaking, but we are too preoccupied to notice.

Unintentionally, someone presses the car window button, and the distant sound of fireworks leaps into our ears.

Tiny snowflakes land on my outstretched arms, only to be melted into droplets by the heat.

"Splat," "splat."

This night, when the old days and the new years merge, we seem to need a little more warmth.

--———FIN————–

✂———————

[Bonus: some h-word translation notes before afterword because I don't want to ruin the beautiful smut with my dumb commentary]

Lucien: [whispers] Sorry, does it hurt a bit? I nod, but in contrast to my answer, I thrust my hips upward, wanting to fit even closer to him. In the process, I almost hit my head on the car door, but Lucien protected me.

(T/N: this sentence implies that the pain is not from her sitting back but… him fitting inside *cough*)

The car's air conditioning blows dry, warm air, dispersing the remaining traces of coldness on our skin.

(T/N: this description implies that they are both already completely undressed at that point. To counteract the chill from being unclothed, the warm air conditioner is turned on :>)

✂———————

[Afterword, rambles and highlight(s)]

⎯ Just like how sunlight helps plants to grow, love nurtures Lucien's growth over the years.

Even after 6 years, Love and Producer still have such a talented writing team that never FAILS at making us feel h-word and cry at almost the same time ༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽. This date is not angsty in the traditional sense, in fact, the date in general is so sweet and full of daily life. But the end really punches you just right in the feelings ESPECIALLY with the 5th anniversary special theatre BGM.

Honestly, it’s hard to explain why this date is so good and makes many CN stans cry by the end of the date. It’s… something that you can experience only if you know him for so, so long. It's something that can only be felt by witnessing his growth from the moment you first 'met' him until now. The feelings of observing someone you've ‘nurtured’ with love and care for years finally blossoming into the most colorful and unique 'fireworks' you've ever witnessed… they’re really hard to describe.

But anyway, before this essay turns into an analysis of "The Little Prince" and Lucien, let’s talk about the date, shall we? If last year's date theme was along the lines of "accepting yourself and your emotions from the past," then I predict that this year's theme seems to be about "experiencing and living the present"; and this is such a fitting theme for Lucien. Why? Because as a character, before he met the MC, he was simply an "observer" instead of a “participant”, curiously observing and experimenting on everything around him, and yet never really ‘participates’ and ‘experiences’ in it.  However, thanks to MC, he has begun to actively participate in the hustle and bustle of the world, experiencing many things that have made him more vibrant and ‘alive’. This transition from ‘observer’ to ‘participant’ is cleverly depicted in this date by making him into a participant in the experiments with MC, rather than solely being the experimenter as usual.

This date as a whole centers around two important things, experience and emotions. While the relationship between experience and emotion can be complex and multifaceted, the way I get it from this date is that; if ‘experience’ is more about the ‘input’ that we get from our senses, then ‘emotions’ are the ‘output’ of our experience. In other words, experiences provide the stimuli that trigger emotional responses. Both experience and emotions are important things for us humans; together, they contribute to our ability to fully engage with and appreciate the present moment, rather than simply going through the motions of survival… They’re also two things that Lucien has been learning over the years.

First, let’s talk about experience, when our observer scientist sheds his lab coat and removes his glasses, he transforms into an ordinary person sincerely in love with you and deeply experiencing love. This date depicts how he experiences love in the warmth of everyday life, and amusingly, it almost makes this date feel as if MC and Lucien are newlyweds on their honeymoon ahah. From shopping for furniture for their new home to encountering silly and unexpected problems that the organizer throws at them (just like how everyday lives always throw problems at us lol), to grocery shopping and cooking together, and cough even the fact that they’re basically ‘on fire’ everyday cough— The grocery shopping parts are especially funny (with just Lucien being Lucien lol)... and cooking scene is just chef kiss. It's really endearing to witness how he adapts to homemaking tasks in his unique way, all because of his love for you.

Still on the topic of ‘experience’; do you know that both of the more descriptive spicy scenes are part of the plot? First, the spicy domming ‘guiding’ scene. In that scene, MC guides him to focus on what his senses told him instead of giving processed answers. And this seems to work because, throughout the date, you can notice him developing more opinions on things based on his senses as he experiences everything. Previously, because he never slowed down and always looked far ahead (See also, his Summer UR MQ, recent CN birthday date and story for more in-depth digging about this theme-), he never fully ‘experienced’ life. But with MC's guidance, her “sharing the world” with him, he starts to perceive the world around him more keenly. This transformation is evident in tasting scenes and fireworks scenes, where he earnestly uses his senses to taste their cooking, hearing the loud firecracker noises, and smelling the scent of gunpowder. She doesn’t only ‘bring’ color to his monochrome world, but also the taste, smell and noises of the world around him as he experiences the present. All these stimuli make his world no longer feel ‘silent’ to him. Sometimes, loving him feels like pulling a ‘god’ from his pedestal to experience the lively and ordinary life of mortals. Perhaps he loses some of his ‘invincibility’ (like for example, that causes him to fall for consumerism trap lol), but in this way, he becomes more alive and real.

Then about emotions. The initial discussion about emotions centers around “emotional synchronization” between lovers, setting the stage for exploring how MC and Lucien perceive and handle each other's emotions. Just as MC accepts all of Lucien's emotions, whether they be sadness or happiness [referencing Lucien’s CN birthday date in 2023], Lucien reciprocates by accepting all of her emotions. Lucien demonstrates emotional stability and maturity as a partner, creating an environment where MC feels no need to restrain her emotions in his presence. He is fond of and intrigued by her colorful range of emotions (and a bittersweet reminder of how her moods affect her “color” in his eyes ahah:”””). This highlights their curiosity and fascination with understanding each other on a deeper level.

For them, all human emotions are important, but MC initially wanted Lucien to feel more positive emotions. With the concept of “emotional sync” in mind, she promises to convey more positive emotions for him, inadvertently restraining her own emotions in the process. However, during their time together in the small city, she learns that even so-called “negative emotions” have value. Despite facing challenges or "troubles," both characters find joy and support in each other's company. MC finds Lucien's moments of vulnerability endearing, while Lucien appreciates MC's encouragement and companionship. They both come to acknowledge the natural ebb and flow of emotions in their relationship, realizing that some negative emotions are far from being detrimental; it’s simply part of their day-to-day life. Those emotional fluctuations are just a very small part of their overall happiness~

ALL THE FEELINGS FROM THE SECOND EXPLICIT SPICY SCENES SUCCESSFULLY MADE ME CRY. Experiencing all sorts of things with her during experiments and everyday life … even things and wishes that he never consciously longed for yet always wanted:

许墨很快乐,很幸福

The meaning of these words are difficult to render accurately in English, and my “Xu Mo/Lucien is very happy, very content with his life.” are just barely scratching the surface… While 快乐(kuài lè) refers to a more transient or temporary feeling of happiness and joy, often related to a fun event, 幸福 (xìng fú) encompasses a profound and enduring sense of happiness and contentment in life. It signifies a state of well-being that extends beyond momentary pleasures, often associated with having a loving family, spouse, fulfilling relationships, and a sense of overall satisfaction with one's life. So when combined, it emphasizes the fact that while experiencing all the ups and downs of the world with her, Lucien is not only feeling immediate joy and pleasure ("快乐"), but also enjoying a deeper, more lasting sense of happiness and fulfilment ("幸福"), he is both happy in the moment and all of his life. By slowing down and deeply experiencing each moment of their shared life, he discovers his own happiness and longing that even he himself never knows about. So, he wants her to experience every bit of his happiness and love that has blossomed because of her… candidly and unrestrainedly wants her to experience all of him.

In another vein, LOVE IS A VERB, NOT A NOUN!!! It's a continual action, continual choice, continual promise to another person. And no matter how many words are spoken, both of them can't fully express the deep love beating in heart. So, when words are too “shallow” to even capture a fraction of deep love and happiness, he can only confess them through instinctive actions, recklessly pouring out his heart in every embrace, every kiss, and every touch. And yet, the question still stands, Can a deep kiss express this love? Can a long embrace reveal the yearning in the depths of our hearts? They’ve done everything, yet it still feels not enough, and perhaps… it will take a lifetime of shared experiences and ‘confessions’ to fully reveal the depths of his love and longing for her.

AND SPEAKING OF CHOICE(S), the BGM choice for that last spicy scene is freaking genius!!! It comes from 5th-anniversary special theatre“The many choices of life” video (You can check it on my YT!). This special video is all about the power of your/MC’s choice. I want to highlight the first “what if” scenario. The first “what if” is about what would happen if she had chosen to not meet Lucien.

In this scenario, the narrative explores what would have happened if MC hadn't met Lucien. Without their encounter, Lucien would still be questioning and seeking understanding from the world around him. He would have found another path, albeit one that didn't involve her, dedicating himself to searching for the 'most optimal solution.' However, his world would remain black and white, indifferent to whether there were people who tried to understand him and care for him :”. Anyway, by using this as a BGM choice, it accentuates the power of your/MC’s choice in shaping him being the way he is right now; while still running on the path to explore truth with dedication, he also finds happiness and contentment along the way because of her choice.

In conclusion, Lucien’s writers never fail to captivate us and deliver top-tier writing! This date highlights the importance of experiencing life fully and embracing all emotions, while also underscoring the transformative power of love~ His writers really excel at utilizing his character to its fullest potential. I can go on and on, talking about all the small details and references on this date but this UR won’t be published any time soon if I do LOL. If you’ve read so far, thank you for reading this date and my rambles~

[aqua-the-smiter]

Horus and his breeding kink 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️ (and his partner being already pregnant)

Don't do this shit to me man, it's too good. NSFW under the cut, divider by the lovely @squishyowl Horus x female reader, more wife AU shizz You've already been knocked up, but he is...enthusiastic Unsurprising breeding kink, lactation, Horus being Horus

Let it never be said that Horus Lupercal was not a responsible husband.

He was overjoyed when you told him you were pregnant. Granted it shouldn't have come as much of a surprise. Even outside of his rut, he was among those of his brothers who could barely keep his hands off his beloved wife. But many of those brothers (Ferrus, Leman, Sanguinius, and Perturabo) already had a child (or several in Leman's case) of their own. Now, it was finally you and your Primarch's turn.

And he was as attentive and gentle with you as your condition demanded. Almost a little too much, although he was quick to correct his mistakes. Never wanting you to feel too helpless and delicate. Most of the time. Sometimes he knew it was beneficial to be a little rougher. Like now, while he was helping you through a...hormonal episode.

You were sitting sideways on his lap. His stiff, throbbing cock buried deep inside your needy slit. The hormones and increased blood flow around sensitive areas had driven your libido through the roof. And your dear husband was always happy to help bring you back down.

"There there." Horus soothed, kissing your temple. "That feels better, doesn't it?"

He asked, as he slowly bounced you up and down his manhood. Practically fucking himself with you. Not that you minded. It felt good, and with your newfound weight it was harder to ride him with your usual vigor.

And he definitely enjoyed using you like that.

You let out a soft moan. "It does. P-please, more like that."

He wiped a line of spit from the corner of your mouth, and picked up the pace a bit. Your toes curled in at the delicious increase in friction. You loved it, being held in his huge, strong arms for hours while he made you ride his cock. While he stuffed you full of his cum despite having already planted his seed in you. You'd be more than happy to sit on him like this all day if you could. Listening to his own growls and moans of pleasure.

One hand slithered between your legs to work you clit. His other hand cupped one of your dripping breasts. Taking one of your puffy, reddened nipples into his mouth. Enjoying the sweet taste of your milk on his tongue. That helped too, relieving some of the weight they had gained.

Needless to say, but you came easily. And frequently. He never ceased to tease you about it.

"It takes me no effort at all to please you." He purred in your ear. "You could try and make it a little more challenging."

"Can't." You replied between breathless pants. "Too good. You're too good."

Stroking his ego worked every time.

He kissed you and pinched your clit. You whole body shivered as he fucking you through another orgasm. You could taste your milk on his lips. They were back on your breast before you could miss them.

Oh yes. You were going to be here for a while, and you relished the thought.

[moonstruckme]

On Thin Ice

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

When your usual figure skating partner Regulus is injured, you're forced to prepare the most romantic routine you've ever done with Sirius Black. You've known Sirius since you were little and have always found him irritating, but as you spend more and more time together, your feelings towards him start to change

cw: injury (no details)

Figure Skater!Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words

You can finally feel the music again.

Your legs push at the ice in tandem with Sirius’, taking his hand before drifting away from him again to the melody of the strings. That lightness is back, the intuitive rhythm you’d had with the routine before Regulus’ injury threw you off-balance. Every sweep of your foot underneath you, every stretch of your arms and back feels right in a way you thought you’d lost during the last two practices. Maybe more right than it ever has. 

You return Sirius’ smile as you finish, hands linked with your arms extended between you, and Coach practically whoops from the edge of the rink. 

“That’s what I like to see,” he declares. “We’ve got some stuff to clean up—you came out of that last spin too fast, Y/N, and Sirius, I wanna see you let her get lower on the death spiral—but that was great, great progress. If we keep at it, I think we’ll be ready for comp.” 

You can’t stop smiling, giddy at the prospect of getting to perform such an impressive routine when, just yesterday, you thought you might never be ready. Sirius sets a hand on your shoulder, squeezing excitedly, and you don’t shake him off like you usually might. Whatever his flaws, something had changed last night between you and Sirius. You wouldn’t call it friendship just yet, but there’s a sort of camaraderie now, an understanding of your mutual investment in this partnership, this routine. You have to work together, and it may as well not be an entirely unpleasant experience for the both of you. Plus, it means you get to enjoy moments like this. You place your hand atop his, squeezing back.

“Ready to go again?” Coach says. “Let’s take it from the spiral sequence.” 

☆ ☆ ☆

Over the few practices, you and Sirius become more and more in tune with each other, until you suspect no one would guess you haven’t been partners all along. You’re beginning to forget that too. The feeling of his hands on you has become a familiar pressure, you’ve learned to anticipate each other’s tiny movements in a split second, and you’ve grown fond of Sirius’ grander style of skating, enjoying the flow of mirroring his maneuvers. You’ve begun mirroring his expressions, too, returning his smiles automatically and engaging with the playful looks he sends you when one of you wobbles or misses a step. 

Though you’ve always had fun with Regulus, he’s all business on the ice. Sirius rarely stops joking around, seeming to find everything amusing even though you know skating really is important to him. He’s at the rink early every day and on the days when he doesn’t walk you home, stays late to correct whatever mistakes he made during practice. It’s rare for your coach to give him a direction during one session that he hasn’t implemented seamlessly by the next. 

Another difference: whereas Regulus has raw talent, Sirius works hard for it. 

Drive isn’t something you honestly would’ve associated with him before, but you suppose that’s because he never draws attention to it. He’ll give up his practice to help you fine-tune a difficult turn in an instant and he’s more given to speculating about what your costumes will look like than discussing his efforts to improve his form, but left to his own devices, Sirius will drill and drill a move until not even your coach can find flaw in it. 

Still, you would never guess that he’s even trying to concentrate as he winks at you, the both of you coming out of a synchronized turn and going into arabesque. Your fingertips brush for the barest of seconds, and you can’t say whether it’s the wink or that which takes your mind off your skates as you launch into one of your solo jumps, but your thoughts are spinning nearly as quickly as your vision as you twist through the air. 

You feel the slip, the slight shift of your back foot to where it shouldn’t be, while you’re still airborne, but there’s no time to correct it before you’re hitting the ground, skate catching oddly on the ice. Your leg twists under you, and you throw yourself to the side before you can land on the blade. You feel something pop before your shoulder hits the wall that borders the rink with a dull thud. 

Naturally, you’ve managed to turn a small error into a spectacle of injury. Your pride hurts worse than anything, but your knee is fighting hard for second place. Already the initial sharp pain has given way to a manageable throbbing, but it feels stiff, locked in place. There’s a swish of blades, and then Sirius is beside you, eyes darting over you with something close to panic. 

“Are you okay?” His hands ghost over your shoulder, your face. “What hurts?”

You push yourself up with your hands, trying to straighten your leg before hissing in pain. 

“Don’t.” Sirius sets a hand just above your knee as if to stop you from repeating the motion. “Don’t move. Is it your ankle?”

You swallow, feeling like you could burst into tears. If you have to sit out this season, after all your hard work, you’re going to be so disappointed in yourself. “My knee. I don’t think it’s bad,” you say, knowing that’s probably wishful thinking. 

“Hopefully not,” he agrees, and your coach finally makes it to you, crouching by your leg. 

“Does anything feel broken?” he asks, prodding at your shin. “Dislocated?”

“I, um,” you hesitate to admit to anything too drastic, as if that’ll change the actual severity of whatever’s wrong with you, “I felt something pop, but it doesn’t feel dislocated. And it doesn’t look like it, right?”

“Right.” Coach pokes at your knee, and you flinch a little, gasping. “I don’t love that, though.”

“You hit the wall with your shoulder too, didn’t you?” Sirius’ expression is as severe as you’ve ever seen it, and you find yourself shrinking under all the attention.

“Yeah, but that’s fine,” you reply hastily. “It’ll probably just bruise.” 

Coach eyes you, a preparatory disappointment in his gaze that worsens your own apprehension. “Can you put weight on it?”

You hesitate, and Sirius steps in before you can answer. “Let’s not chance it, yeah?”

Coach nods. “Okay, yeah, let’s end practice for today. Go get it checked out and text me what you find out, alright?”

You nod, and neither he nor Sirius seem angry with you, but that does nothing to stop the acute upset that’s forming in your chest. “Okay.” 

Sirius eases an arm carefully under your knees, slipping the other behind your back. He’s slow as he brings you to his chest, watching your face. “Does that hurt?”

You shake your head, and he stands with you in his arms, making his way to the exit. 

“I’m really sorry,” you whisper, hiding your face in his shoulder as tears arrive unbidden, distorting your vision. “I don’t want to mess this up.” 

“Hey.” Sirius’ breath is warm on your forehead as he speaks softly, head bent over yours. “Don’t be sorry. You aren’t messing anything up, it was an easy mistake.” He steps off the ice, setting you down on the bleachers and ducking his head until you’re looking at him. “It might still be nothing, yeah? Maybe you just tweaked something. So don’t cry just yet, shortcake, alright?”

You nod, wiping embarrassedly under your eyes. Sirius sits on the bench below you, unlacing your skates before you can even think to reach for them. “And even if you were out for the rest of the season,” he says lightly, “you’d just be coordinating your break with Regulus, and then the two of you could perform together next season.” He slips your first skate off, starting on the second. “Just like you wanted, yeah?”

You look at him, pieces of hair that have escaped the knot in the back of his head falling in his face as his fingers move deftly over your laces. You do want to skate with Regulus again, but you’re not so ready to forgo this season as you might’ve been when he was first taken out of the running. You like having Sirius as a partner. You enjoy practicing with him, talking with him, just being around him. And if this is your only season to do that, you’re not ready to give it up quite yet. 

“Yeah,” you say weakly, and something indecipherable flickers across Sirius’ face before he pulls your other foot free of your skate. “Thanks.” 

“Anytime, sunshine.” He grins at you, whatever you might’ve seen skillfully hidden away. “I’m known for being great at pep talks, you know.” 

You do your best to match his playful tone. “I believe it.” 

“Alright.” He pats your good knee, standing. “Do you think you could get a ride home? I’d carry you the whole way if I could, but I’m not sure you’d thank me for it if I messed up our throws tomorrow.” 

You laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure I can get a ride. Thanks, though.” 

You expect Sirius to leave, but he sits with you until your ride arrives, insisting on helping you to the car when you won’t let him carry you. After a long and somewhat teary phone call with Regulus that night, you make an appointment with a doctor for the next morning, where they tell you have something called a meniscus tear. You leave with a compression bandage around your knee and instructions to rest over the next couple of days. Coach echoes your relief over the phone, saying he’ll train with just Sirius until you can come back to practice and making you swear to do nothing but rest your knee until then. 

You almost call Sirius, too, but eventually settle for telling Regulus, sure that he’ll convey the message. You’ve never been happier to have to sit around, especially since it means you’ll still be able to compete this year. 

And you never thought you’d be this enthusiastic to finish out the season with Sirius Black, but you can’t wait until your next practice.

[girls-are-weird]

YR fanfic pet peeves (and corrections): latin america edition

so. i was originally going to post this in january as a kind of "new year, new opportunity to learn about simon's hispanic heritage" kind of a thing, but life got busy, and then my computer died and i lost my original list, so i've had to reconstruct this from memory as best as i could. there may be some stuff missing, so perhaps i'll just keep adding to this post as missing/new points come to mind.

disclaimer 1: if you've included any of the points made here on any fanfic of yours, please don't take this as a call-out. this isn't intended to shame anyone, but rather as an educational opportunity. it's very rare that a latin american nationality that is not mexican or colombian or puerto rican is showcased in an international show, especially outside of the US, and it's given me such joy to have all of you lovely folks make the effort to be open to and research and understand the idiosyncrasies of simon's (and omar's) heritage because the rest of latin america tends to go overlooked in most other fandoms. so i don't intend to scold anyone with this. we can't all know everything about every other culture-- lord knows i don't know everything about sweden, but i want to be respectful to the country and its people and that is why i heavily research anything i don't know and ask people who do know when my research doesn't quite cover it and am open to corrections when even that falls short. i expect most of you come to write about simon's family background in good faith and also want to be respectful to his family's culture, and so i thought i might make things a bit easier for you all by putting the most common errors/misunderstandings i've seen in one handy post. but once again, it's not a call-out, i don't get offended by these things, and i'm in no way implying, if you've done any of these things in fic or in life, that you are a bad person. i understand people make mistakes when they don't know things.

disclaimer 2: i am not venezuelan myself. i was born and raised in the same general region of latin america, though, and i have venezuelan friends and have worked with venezuelan people and have visited venezuela. generally speaking, i feel their culture is very similar to mine (though our spanish is much closer to spanglish than theirs is, haha xD) and feel a deep kinship with them. but of course, i'm no native, and if you're venezuelan and catch anything here that you feel is incorrect, feel free to point it out and i'll add a correction in your name.

warning: this is very long. christ almighty. DX if you can't make it to the end, tl;dr-- feel free to ask if you have any questions or if anything isn't clear. my ask box/messages are always open.

1- "mijo." this is the only one that legit has caused me to click out of several fics/chapters, at least in the beginning, but i've learned to grin and bear it by now. it's not so much that it's wrong, per se, but rather it's more of a location issue. "mijo" is, to my ears, very much a mexican (or, if you stretch it, northern triangle) slang. it IS used sparingly in other countries, but rarely used unironically. instead, if you hear the term used in the caribbean region of latin america (which my country is part of, as is a large part of venezuela), it's almost always used… let's say sarcastically. for example, if your grown-ass adult friend is being a dumbass and doing something reckless, you might call out "oiga, mijo, se va a romper el cuello" ("hey, mijo, you're going to break your neck"). basically, it's a way of calling someone immature like a child. it doesn't have to be ENTIRELY unaffectionate (kinda like the way someone might call their significant other "idiot" or "dummy" but mean it endearingly. in fact, in colombia it's way more common for spouses to call each other "mijo/a" than it is for them to call their children that), but you can also use it with complete strangers-- like if someone cuts sharply into your lane while you're driving, you might yell at them "oiga, mijo, a donde le enseñaron a manejar, en un potrero?!" ("hey, mijo, where did you learn how to drive, in a horse paddock?!"). but even in these sarcastic/neggy cases, it's rare. and EVEN RARER to hear a mother call her children "mijo" or "mija" in this region. it's just not a thing. so when i read it in fanfic, it immediately takes me out of the story because it's so weird to me that linda would sound mexican-- it's a very distinctive accent, which carmen gloria 1000000% does not have. (plus, "mijo" in spanish is a type of birdseed. so it gave me a chuckle the first few times i read it in a fic because i always have that brief second of confusion where i go "why is linda calling simon birdseed?" before it clicks. xD i'm a dork.) it's much more likely that linda would just say "hijo" or "mi hijo," instead.

1b- the way you decide on whether to use "hijo" or "mi hijo" is important because "mi hijo" can sound overly formal in the modern context especially, much like it would in english. in fact, you can use the english version of it, "son" vs "my son" to guide you on which of the two to use. like for example, if linda were to say directly to simon "i love you, my son," she would sound oddly old-timey and anachronistic, so you would just use "son" ("hijo") in that case. whereas if she's talking about simon with someone else, for example saying "i told my son to be here on time," you'd be perfectly okay to use "mi hijo" in that sentence in spanish. it's very transferable in that case.

2- speaking of non-transferable, though, you can't use "cariño" in all instances you would use "sweetheart" or "sweetie." it really depends on the grammatical construction, and it can be tricky to get it right, but it depends on whether you're using it as a direct address or as an object. for example, if you're using it in place of someone's name-- say, a mother telling her child "te quiero, cariño" ("i love you, sweetheart/sweetie") is perfectly fine, because in that case, she could also say "te quiero, hijo" ("i love you, son") or "te quiero, simon" ("i love you, simon"). but if, say, simon says to wille "you're my sweetheart," you would not use "cariño" there; you'd go instead with some syrupy way to say "boyfriend," like "eres mi novio" or "eres mi enamorado" or even "eres mi amor," and if sara tells felice "you're a sweetheart," that would also not involve "cariño" at all. in addition, "cariño" is also very rarely used in plural; if linda is using a term of endearment for both her kids, or for a group of teens her kids' age, she would use a different term of endearment altogether: "hola, mis amores" ("hi, my loves"), "hola, bebés" ("hi, babies") or "hola, mis tesoros" ("hi, my treasures") among some examples. one exception is when you say "cariños míos" ("my sweethearts"), but very rarely the plural by itself. in fact, "cariño" is often slang for gift or present, especially in the diminutive-- for example, if you go to someone's celebratory party for some occassion (birthdays, graduations, baby showers, heck even christmas), you might hand them a small gift and go "te traje un cariñito" ("i brought you a small present"), and if it's more than one gift, or you're bringing gifts for several people, then you'd say "unos cariños" or "unos cariñitos" in the plural.

3- simon's skin is tan, not tanned. this… doesn't personally bug me as much because it's more of an english grammar issue, but i know people who might actually feel very offended if you get this one wrong with respect to them. "tan" is a color; a light shade of brown. "tanned" implies the original color of your skin has darkened with the sun. now, i'm sure simon can tan (lucky goat, says she whose skin burns even while indoors), but about 95% of the time "tanned" is used in YR fanfiction, it's used as a descriptor of the color of simon's skin as we see it on the show. that would imply his skin used to be lighter at some indeterminate before-time and has been darkened by the sun. this is incorrect; that is the natural color of simon's skin. so stick to "tan skin" instead (not tan PERSON, mind you. his SKIN is tan, he is not). and i would gently suggest that if you take away any single thing from this post, make it ESPECIALLY this point, as someone more sensitive than me might interpret this error as some kind of retroactive whitewashing. and i don't want anyone here to get in trouble for simply not knowing.

4- pabellón criollo is one dish, yes, but it's four different FOODS. it's not something a newbie would be able to make off of a recipe (i don't know how to make it and i've been eating it all my life), and it's not something that's likely to be taught in just one day. also, if you're bringing it to a dinner or a potluck, you're bringing four separate food containers, not just one.

4b- also, venezuelan food, for the most part, is not particularly spicy. you CAN make it spicy if you want, but traditionally, it is not. it's flavorful, maybe even saucy depending on the dish, but rarely spicy. i know the joke of white people being unable to handle spice is funny, but there's also plenty of us hispanic people who are equally terrible at it, because there's different levels of spice in the food from different regions of latin america. besides, as a friend of mine perfectly put: we are living in the 21st century now. if you can eat mild mexican food, you should be able to handle traditional venezuelan food just fine. and i'm pretty sure there's mexican food in sweden. plus, wille would probably be more used to international food-- not only does he have the means, but having traditional meals in foreign countries is kind of part of the job.

5- while i'm at it: simon is definitely half venezuelan. this is canon as of S2. there is no other place in the world where that dish is called pabellón. please keep that in mind when you're writing and researching.

5b- this, along with several of the points above, is important because it's a bit of diaspora trauma that whenever we venture outside of latin america and people learn we're latino, they immediately assume we're mexican, or that our culture and traditions are the same as those of mexican people. it happens often, and it's incredibly annoying. not that there's anything wrong with mexico or mexican people-- they're lovely, and their traditions and culture and food are fantastic-- but we are not them, and treating us like we are is reductive. the rest of latin america can be very different and incredibly diverse, and it can be dispiriting when people treat us like we're all the same. so that is why it is important when writing about simon, his family or his venezuelan roots, that you take care to actually research things as they are in venezuela, and not just pick the low-hanging fruit of latino facts you might've learned through pop cultural osmosis, which eight times out of ten will be mexican-only because most hispanic people in the US are mexican and the US exports its media all over the world. i've learned to just roll my eyes at it by now, but some people might actually feel offended or hurt, and i'm sure nobody here intends for that to happen.

6- although simon speaks spanish, neither he nor sara nor his mother nor any aspect of his mother's culture is spanish. "spanish" is what people from spain call themselves. people from spanish-speaking latin american countries are not spanish; we are hispanic, or latino/a/e. "latinx" is… let's call it controversial, at least outside of the US. most people born and raised in latin america don't like it; i personally don't get offended if people use it, but i don't use the term myself. also, you can say "latin food" or "latin music," but we usually don't refer to PEOPLE as latin, but rather latino/a/e. if in doubt, just use latin american or hispanic. they're also conveniently gender neutral.

EDIT: @andthatisnotfake also brought up a very important point: "if you spell it latinx, it makes it harder for screen readers to read (or so I've been told) and some people depend on those, so there's another reason to avoid it." (the unpronounceability of that term is at least part of the reason why hispanic people who live in latin america don't like it.)

6b- never use "the latino/a" on its own to refer to people. "latino/a/e" is an adjective, not a noun, so you would say "the latino boy" or "the latino man" but never just "the latino." kinda like it would be weird to point out the one japanese man in a room as "the japanese." there are some nationality/ethnic terms that just don't work as nouns in english.

7- spanish is not simon's one native language-- or at least not any more than swedish is. he grew up in a mixed-race household, speaking two different languages. it's pointless to call spanish his native language when comparing it to swedish. both are his native languages. also, while we're at this, wille is probably at least bilingual (i'm assuming he can speak at least english), although he only has one native language. it's hardly a competition between the two boys as to who's more of a polyglot.

7b- simon wouldn't take classes on the spanish language-- like to learn how to SPEAK the language-- since spanish is one of his native languages. he wouldn't take them at hillerska, nor in university, nor elsewhere. he wouldn't be allowed. you're literally not allowed to take classes on your native language, nor get credit for said classes. trust me, those would've been an easy extra 24 credits for me in college if that was a thing.

EDIT: have been made aware (thanks, @rightsogetthis and @plantbasedfish!) that at least in sweden and in finland one IS allowed to take classes of your non-swedish/finnish native language, in certain circumstances. i have to say, i'd be pissed if i were taking my french classes alongside a french native speaker, but hey, the system's the system, i guess. ;) so i've struck this one out.

8- dear god please don't use google translate for your spanish translations. listen, i'm not judging-- i do it with other languages, too, when i'm in a pinch. but google translate is literally The Worst (tm) so i always try to either check with someone, or stick to the stuff i already know is correct. seriously, you don't want to know the kinds of crazy stuff GT can spit out that people actually put out in the real world; some of them are quite hilarious. if you're unsure, my ask box/messages are always open and i looooove helping people with this kind of thing, hispanic language and cultural stuff. i know it seems like i'm hardly around, but i do check my messages. don't be shy, even if it's something really small.

PS: while i'm talking pet peeves, malin is wille's bodyguard, not his butler. she's nice enough to attend to him at hillerska because there's no other palace staff around and she's literally stationed outside his door, but she wouldn't do that in the actual palace. there's other staff for that. she wouldn't even guard him at the palace, i don't think, because the royal palaces in sweden are guarded by the royal guard, not SÄPO. if anything, malin might spend the time while wille is in the palace grounds at a gatehouse (like in YR 2x03 and onwards) or at some kind of security office in the palace, and then get called whenever wille needs to go anywhere. she wouldn't be giving wille messages from the queen or walking guests to wille's room or anything like that. that's not her job. (sorry, i had to get that off my chest, lol.)

[blueesnow]

Amakusa Shion's Birthday (Year 1) Voicelines Translation.

-You can look at it again on the Event Log, Mini-Event section (for the other boys messages to him) and Talk section (for a one-on-one conversation with you and him) in Idol Page.

-Also the translations might not be fully accurate since I'm not that fluent on jp/en, so if i ever made a mistake do correct me🙏

<You (Player)> Shion: To be hearing your voice as you give me your blessing…how soothing it is. So this is exactly what it means when people said that they're ascending to Heaven. Shion: Your words along with the gentle waves that you've gifted me are healing my soul. For today, I'd like to sleep with them as my lullaby.

<Otoya> Otoya: I heard that it's your birthday today, Happy Birthday! Since all of the members of HE★VENS are all close with each other, I was wondering if you guys sometime go stargazing together or something? Shion: Yes, there are indeed some occasions where we did that. To think that you can even feel the bond between us, I'm happy to hear that. My deepest gratitude for the blessing.

<Masato> Masato: I heard that it's your birthday today, Happy Birthday. I sincerely hope that you will have a good time with everyone at HE★VENS. Shion: Thank you. To be able to become a part of HE★VENS… Nothing could bring me more happiness in my life other than that.

<Natsuki> Natsuki: Happy Birthday! For celebrating your birthday, I'll secretly tell you the perfect place to bask in the sun~ Shion: Oh, my…! I'm very grateful for the information. In exchange, I'll also tell you some of the hidden spots that I know…

<Tokiya> Tokiya: I wish you a Happy Birthday. I heard that you like nature, so I brought you a landscape photography book. Shion: Oh…I really appreciate it. I'm sure that each one of them is stunning. Thank you for thinking of me…

<Ren> Ren: I heard that it's your birthday today. By chance, I actually saw a bird with a very unusual color just this morning. It probably wanted to celebrate your birthday too. Shion: I'd be delighted if that's the case. Perhaps it got attracted by your heart as you were trying to give me your blessing.

<Syo> Syo: Happy Birthday! You actually have more guts than I ever thought, don't you~ And I think that's good! Shion: Hearing that from you doesn't feel bad at all… And besides, Amakusa also like those optimistic part of yours.

<Cecil> Cecil: I wish you a Happy Birthday! I'm sure that your deep love for music will once again bring you many more blessings in return. Shion: Thank you. My heart is now full of happiness… But, to be able to give us even more than this, as I thought music is indeed amazing.

<Reiji> Reiji: Happy Birthday~! Your choice of words is very unique, aren't they? I'm always getting inspired by them☆ Shion: I'm happy to hear that�� and I'm also grateful for the blessing as well. I'd like to learn some of your words too.

<Ranmaru> Ranmaru: I heard that it's your birthday today, Happy Birthday. You like forest, don't you? Sometimes there are some dangerous places out there, so be careful. Shion: Nature is a place of healing for me… However, you do have a point. It's better to be safe than sorry after all.

<Ai> Ai: Looking at you makes me to re-think more about our group. And I mean that in a good way of course. Happy Birthday. Shion: HE★VENS is everything to Amakusa. I'm sure that you also have your own feelings for your group as well. Let's both express our gratitude to our fellow comrades together.

<Camus> Camus: I wish you a Happy Birthday. For celebrating your birthday, how about some Japanese confectionary in the shape of autumn leaves? Shion: What a thoughtful gesture…! I sincerely thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to make this arrangement for me…

<Eiichi> Eiichi: Let's continue to rise up to a higher place together with Shion's noble and pure singing voice. Happy Birthday. Shion: Thank you… I promise to devote all of my efforts so that my song can be a source of strength for Eiichi and HE★VENS.

<Kira> Kira: Happy…Birthday. Shion…has always been a part…that lives and stays in our heart. …Thank you. Shion: Likewise, I can't even count just how many times Kira has helped me out. I'm really happy from your nonchalant kindness. My deepest gratitude to you.

<Nagi> Nagi: Happy Birthday♪ You can cling to Nagi as much as you want for today. It's a special offer, okay~? Shion: Fufu, Nagi is indeed kind. Well then, I shall take your offer with no hesitation and snuggle in those warmth…

<Eiji> Eiji: Shion's love for HE★VENS has encouraged me many times. Let's celebrate your birthday a lot for today, shall we? Happy Birthday! Shion: I believe that Eiji's love for HE★VENS is also huge too… I'm glad to have you as a fellow singing comrade of mine.

<Van> Van: Happy Birthday, Shii-chan! We've all seen how hard you've been working. Let's celebrate your birthday in a big party today! Shion: Van's warm words and smiles has always make me feel happy. It's truly the best blessing I've ever received.

<Yamato> Yamato: Shion, Happy Birthday, It's your birthday today, so make sure you eat a lot of food, okay? HE★VENS can only exist with you around. Shion: I can't actually eat as much as Yamato did, but I'll give it a try for today… Thank you for your honest and straightforward blessing.

[yandere-paramour]

Just found this blog, and am enjoying Altlanta (Sorry Vivien, I am a lesbian). But one of my favorite things to do with a yandere is imagine them ending up with the most fundamentally incompatible darling possible. So I have to ask...

Is there any mix of personality traits that would cause Atlanta to go "I have made a horrible mistake, this person is not my soulmate", or would she always grin and bear it?

Like, what if the darling is a slob who refuses to bathe, swears like a wounded pirate, treats any attempt to alter her behavior as a good excuse to get into an hours long screaming match, and just isn't affected by the isolation room at all and seems to enjoy being spanked (thus rendering "corrections" useless).

Or what if the darling will not stop telling atlanta how much she hates and despises her... because Atlanta's a (wannabe) ceo and the darling is a hardcore communist who may or may not be very obviously planning on killing atlanta even if doing so risks any chance at freedom because she hates the upper class that much.

Top 10 Personality Traits Atalanta Cannot Stand in a Darling (in no particular order):

Someone who seeks to ruin the Montclair name. She's super proud of her family name and she can't abide by you trying to destroy it.

Someone who doesn't make an effort with themselves. You've got to shower and wash clothes, that's the bare minimum.

Someone who is constantly trying to kill her. Ata prefers to feel safe in her own home. Of course, this only applies continually. You can try to kill her early in the relationship when you're still settling but she would prefer you stop soon.

Someone who doesn't accept her gifts. It frustrates her to no end because she likes to be the provider.

A cheater. End of story.

Someone who constantly puts down Atalanta and tells her how horrible she is. She can handle this at the beginning of the relationship but she can't put up with it for long.

Someone who lies. Atalanta has to know everything about your life at all times and if she doesn't, she gets irritable.

Someone who refuses to show love in any way possible. You've got to spend time with her or let her love on you or physically speak to her. She has to have SOMETHING from you.

Someone abusive. She can't handle that for obvious reasons.

Someone who tries to run. A few times in the beginning is okay but she can't handle someone who keeps trying to leave her.

[satorubrain]

Can we get a part 2 of Changes pretty please 🥺

Amelioration

Pairings: Gojo Satoru x Reader.

Tags: Fluff!!!

Synopsis: GOJO'S REDEMPTION ARC!!! No matter what happens Satoru is NOT going to give up. He's going to prove to you that he's changed FOR better this time.

A/N: the final part of the series changes!!

Part 1. Changes

Part 2. Impinge

6 months.

It's been six months since Satoru made Mina disappear. Six months of ceaseless trying. Only he knows how many efforts he has put in. Taking every mission near Kyoto just so he could cross paths with, even a glimpse of you at the Kyoto High would give him enough strength to keep going.

Coming up with reasons to see you- arranging tournaments, joint trips, missions of two schools just so he could see you have fun with your kids. The tournaments which used to happen once a year now happen every month.

It was one of the tournaments he had prepared under the pretense of helping the students get stronger. Everyone knew the real reason though. It was pretty to figure out- instead of participating, Satoru was busy completing your smallest wishes. Oh you're thirsty? Do you need water? Juice? Any other drinks? He has prepared everything. Hungry? Okay your favorite food is already on your way. You've been standing in the sun for far too long? He's your personal butler holding an umbrella for you, maintaining a distance. At this point you feel bad for him.

You think he's going to start jumping as you bring him to one of the empty rooms, so you can finally let him talk.

Closing the door behind you before locking it with one hand while the other is held by Satoru a little tightly, fearing you might leave him again if he loosens his grip on you. Hugging you tightly the moment you turn around to face him. His body is slightly trembling as he lets out a shaky breath.

"Please... Just give me a moment" he requests for your permission to let him hold you close in his embrace as he recollects his thoughts. Relaxing his entangled arms around you, enough till he's on his knees, looking up at your bewildered expression with his arms holding you close to him by your waist.

"Gojo..." you exhale gently, still unwilling to fully give into his wishes. At least not until he comes clean.

"Seven months. It's been seven months since I last held you. It's been seven months since I started trying to correct my mistakes. Finding proof against Mina, making her friend confess to her so I can catch her redhanded and well, the next six months were spent trying to win you back and ask for your forgiveness" he chuckles nervously "so do you think I've succeeded?" He looks at you, his eyes pleading, eyebrows slightly raised giving you an anxious yet soft smile.

You softly cup his cheeks, tracing his cheekbone with your thumb "I believe you've already proved sufficiently but" you exhale pausing for a moment "I think it'll be difficult to date me now, I'm quite terrified Satoru, I might push you away at times, I might not trust you enough..." you confess. You can notice his face contour into one of the expressions of hurt, realizing he's the one who has caused you such immense pain. And that's why he'll make sure you'll heal. He will stay with you through all the thick and thin.

"It is alright. I've made mistakes, so I must make up for it. No matter how much you push me away, I'll come back to you. If you don't trust me enough, I'll try to win your trust even harder. No matter what punishments you give me, I will gladly accept them all if it means you are standing along my side. So, do you think I can get another chance to prove to you that I'll only be yours? I promise I'll always live up to my words" He pours his heart and soul into this confession, begging for a miracle that you'll finally accept him.

You answer by leaning down softly connecting your lips with his, smiling into it as Satoru returns the kiss with fervour with a hand cupping your cheek and pulling you even closer, tear drops wetting the fingertips. Oh how you both longed for each other.

"Well then, from now on you'll only be mine. Never forget that." You breathe against his lips, grinning.

"Only yours." He swears.

AND THE CHANGES SERIES IS DONE!!!!! Feeling giddy over it hehe

[REQUESTS ARE OPEN]

[MASTERLIST]

[definitelynotshouting]

Okay, so, question I've had for a while but never got around to asking, what the FUCK is up with Grian's wings?

If all physical differences in players (like those particularly ascribed to 'Hybrids' in mcyt fanon) in Hunger AU are a result of conscious altering of your own code for the express purpose of achieving YOUR IDEAL BODY(tm) then what does that mean for Grian and his wings? No one seems to regard Grian's wings as "What The Fuck, You Can DO That?!?" so presumably wings aren't so big of a change from normal biology that players can't do that. If so, why is it not more common? Man, if I could have wings I'd jump on that in seconds. Especially with the sheer utility the ability to fucking FLY gives players. Are wings (and maybe other larger alterations) just like, REALLY HARD to code in? If so, that might add a really cool layer of "Oh wow! They must be a really good coder!" to players who meet people like that.

On a related note, Grian seems to have a positive regard for his wings, which is interesting because I would be willing to bet he didn't have that before *insert sounds of worm-bursting and non-consensual body modification*. I imagine seeing his wings would likely feel like a reminder of the Watchers and what they did to him. BUT, Watchers manipulate their own code when they change like Grian did to, y'know, not be a worm anymore so Grian probably specifically chose how he looked, right? So, unless he did so really rushed and somehow made a mistake while doing so (which he might not be able to risk the structural damage of correcting), keeping the wings was a conscious decision. Does Grian just not associate his wings with the Watchers or is it something else? Does he just really enjoy having wings?

HELLO I AM SO GLAD YOU'VE ASKED THIS BECAUSE I HAVE ‼️‼️‼️‼️ MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT IT ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

Okay okay so these are all SUCH valid questions, lemme go through them one by one. Wings are indeed something anyone could have if they wanted to code them in-- and in fact, i do believe many other Players have wings throughout the universe!!! As far as body mods go, i like to think of them as decently popular, so its definitely not anything too weird to see. In chapter 5, i even make a mention to Pearl having moth wings she occasionally codes in due to preference!!! So wings of many different types are definitely available-- but the catch is that they're real fiddly to code. You cant just give yourself wings, you have to code in the bone structure, the muscles, the tendons, etc etc, and then you have to change your entire body structure as well to work with and fully support them. They can be awkward and unwieldy, as ive tried to show in the fic itself, and i think that alone can be a big discouragement for Players considering coding in wings, along with the sheer coding effort needed to obtain them and make them functional

And the thing is, elytra already exist-- they're far more compact, they dont take up as much space, you can take them on and off super easily without having to mess with your coding, and they basically do the same thing. Sure, its a pain to get one, but a lot of Players really enjoy the sense of accomplishment, and i think theres a bit of cultural prestige too in that regard. Server milestones are a huge thing in Player culture, and getting your first pair of elytra is a big one!!! So it makes sense to me that people who just dont want to go through the effort of coding in wings (which can then in turn complicate how they code other future modifications) primarily stick to elytra.

And everybody is different-- some people prefer attributes that arent wings. I like to think everyone in hermitcraft generally is a mix of "jeez thats effort, i could be building my base instead of doing that" and "eh im fine how i am, i like it" and "well we have elytra shops everywhere so why bother".

So in short, yeah!! Wings are a bit complex to code in. They're still pretty popular, i think plenty of Players do choose to incorporate them, but it takes a lot of hard and thorough work to make sure they function right and wont bug you out when you use them. There are billions of Players scattered across the universe, so what you're seeing in the fic right now is truly just a drop in the ocean when it comes to Player body diversity :] and then, elytra basically already help Players achieve a form of flight without the hassle of recoding their entire body structure, so i think the majority of Players just prefer to use them instead.

AS FOR GRIAN'S WINGS IN PARTICULAR......

Well..... its complicated. Particularly his feelings about them-- in the fic, i referenced them as the only good thing the Watchers ever gave him, and thats how he sees it, i think: a thin silver lining. He's had many, many years to get used to them, and i think he goes through periods where he hates them and the memories attached, too. Ultimately, he's kinda stuck with them, so i think he hit a form of acceptance (as bitter-tinged as it may be) out of sheer necessity for his own sanity.

As for why he has them, and hasnt coded them out: i think of it as a particular quirk of biology/structural coding. Watchers have a more instinctive way of coding than Players, but a Player-minded Watcher is still going to think like a Player, and thats going to muddle things a lot. Grian essentially had to relearn how to code, in a way that satisfied both Player and Watcher-style coding, and the results at first were.... a little rough around the edges. Once he managed to finally take on his original former appearance, the wings from his true form just kind of.... stuck. I like to think it took a few increasingly desperate tries before he realized he just could not figure out how to get rid of them (bc of how different his new code was), and had to accept that this was just how he was gonna have to live for a while until he finally figured it out. And then, well.... you can get used to anything, if you're stuck with it long enough. I think after a while it just stopped being a huge priority, and then he reached a point where it would be more awkward to live without them than with them, and he eventually dropped the idea altogether. And i think sometimes, they function almost like a scar, to him-- a reminder of what he went through, yes, but a reminder that he did manage to escape. And, ofc, he also just really, really likes flying skdjskdjdj

So yeah, loads of complicated feelings there about his wings, and its stuff i do plan on exploring later in the fic!!! This got a little rambly, but i hope this makes sense and answers your questions!!!! :D its a fun little complicated knot that im glad someone has gotten curious enough to ask about!!!!

[maochira]

hi mao!! i hope you’re doing well!! can i mayhaps request the father figures helping the reader learn their native language 🫣 ive been nonstop thinking about this and i think it would be so cute ishdjrjje can u maybe add loki too (he doesn’t have to be a father figure! it can just be like a friend type of thing) thank you so much if you do accept my request!! (also sorry if this has already been done fhrjhf)

THIS IS SO CUTE HELP 😭😭 Also I know you already found out but yeah KJSHJD I don't write for Loki yet but!! I will at some point in the future. Oh and. I uh. Was a bit stupid and... wrote headcanons for the coaches learning the reader's native language first... Sometimes I don't read stuff properly enough. SO YOU'RE GETTING BOTH LEARNING EACH OTHER'S NATIVE LANGUAGES HAH! (imagine I wouldn't have noticed that... GHKJKJGD... anyways)

Requests open! - father figure coaches masterlist

Tags: gn!reader, reader recently moved to the country in the Chris and Snuffy ones, me being a bit stupid resulted in twice the amount of headcanons, praise my stupidity

They teach you their native language!

Even though he's been playing for Bastard München for a long time, occasionally French words still slip into Noa's sentences. It's a bit funny but also makes you want to learn the language better. You've been learning French in school for a while, but always struggled with it. At first, it started with Noa helping with your homework, but it quickly turned into him teaching you the language in an attempt to get you to speak somewhat fluently. Because of his help, you end up becoming one of the best students in your French class.

Chris noticed quickly how you still struggle with your English a lot. You're good enough to properly communicate and have conversations, but every now and then it takes you a while to find the right words. Chris always remembers which words you fail to keep in your head and in which situations you usually struggle. If that happens, he's there to help you and makes sure you don't feel bad for any mistakes you make. He also always points your improvements out and praises you for getting better.

Lavinho missed having someone who understands all his silly and funny Portuguese phrases and curse words - so that's the first thing he taught you. Initially, that's all he wanted but it got you interested in learning more words and phrases until Lavinho just decided he'll teach you to know enough for basic conversations. Teaching you is fun because it means you're the only one around him who understands his curse words, but he also adores your dedication to learning his native language.

Snuffy noticed you tend to avoid speaking Italian because you're ashamed of how bad it is. You tend to speak in English instead, and while Snuffy doesn't mind that at all, he wants to encourage you to speak Italian more often so you'll improve. It took a bit until you got the courage to speak Italian more often, but you were happy when you did and started noticing more improvement. Snuffy always makes sure to not make you feel embarrassed if you make a mistake. Instead, he calmly corrects you and lets you continue talking.

They learn your native language!

Noa has often thought about learning another language, but there just wasn't one that got his interest, until you mentioned your native language to him. He didn't tell you about it right away, but he felt an urge to learn it. He didn't know where to start, so he ended up asking you about it. It made you very excited and you were happy to teach him!

Chris always thought it was cute how you mixed in words from your native language whenever you talked. He quickly picked up the things you say most commonly, but he figured out it'd be cool if he learned more. He asked you to teach him more phrases, and he learned them quicker than expected! He's nowhere near being fluent, but it's nice to see how much effort he puts in for you.

Lavinho was intrigued by your native language the first time he heard you talk in it and immediately asked you to teach him a few words. As time progressed, you went from teaching him words to teaching him full sentences until he was able to have a short conversation with you. He promised he'll learn it more seriously at some point, but of course, that takes time and he hasn't found the time to properly study the language, but until then he's happy to learn from you!

Snuffy knew you had nobody except your family who spoke your native language with you, so he decided to learn a bit to surprise you with it. He originally planned to only learn a few basic phrases, but then he got lost in it and learned a lot more in the span of two months. At first, he was a bit unsure how to tell you and never found a proper chance, but after your team won an important match he praised you in your native language, and it made you even more emotional than you already were.

[pascaloverx]

To Begin Again

ELEVEN

Summary: You're a new teacher at a large and influential school. It's a risky step for you, as you've been running from your ex for almost two years. But when Dumbledore asks you to take on a class at the renowned Hogwarts, you can't refuse. However, your life as a newly arrived teacher won't be easy. Especially when the other teachers don't seem eager to make friends. Or rather, two teachers in particular: Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

Author's Note: Welcome, dear readers. Please leave your comments if you enjoy fanfiction. This fanfic takes place almost in the real world (with the addition of werewolves) and is not a wizarding fanfic. There will be some differences and changes in things from the Harry Potter story or other fanfics in the HP universe, but I promise to do my best writing this fanfic. There will be a love triangle coming in this fanfic. So, dear readers, just as in this fanfic it's meant to imagine Remus Lupin as being Andrew Garfield and Sirius Black as being Ben Barnes, now I present to you the fancast of Severus Snape as being actor Enzo Vogrincic. Imagine him as Snape if you can.

TEN TWELVE

Draco is a bit nervous when he enters your room, as if he wants to say something but doesn't have the courage. You gesture towards a chair near the bed. Your room is very large and spacious, with two chairs near the bed. You sit down next to Draco.

"Do you want to tell me something?" you ask Draco, who still seems to be thinking about what he wants to say; he nods affirmatively.

"I want to be better, but I don't know how. I thought you might be able to help me," Malfoy says, catching you by surprise. You have no idea what to say, contemplating the fact that he thinks you have a good enough relationship for him to ask you for advice.

"I'm honored that you think I can help you. But tell me, what made you think you need to change?" you ask him gently. You want to help your student, but the truth is, you don't feel qualified to tell anyone how to be better.

"I think the consecutive punishments and hitting someone who didn't deserve it. To be honest, Potter got hurt trying to stop his best friend from hitting me. Granger has a bruised face, and I can't stop feeling guilty," Draco says shyly, seeming embarrassed to admit he's feeling guilty.

"Your sense of guilt is essentially correct. But the blame isn't entirely yours; after all, you weren't the only one punished. You're old enough, so I'll be honest. If you don't start apologizing for your rude or disrespectful actions, you'll end up becoming someone impossible to live with. And apologizing is useless if you don't commit to not repeating the mistake. That said, I'm proud of you for coming here. Admitting to yourself that you're wrong is a noble act. But if you don't change your lovely habit of getting into trouble, you'll end up lonely and resentful." You decide to give Draco some tough love, hoping that he'll listen and make progress.

"Do you think I can get better?" Draco processes what you said and speaks softly, not looking at you.

"The answer lies within you. If starting tomorrow, you commit to staying out of trouble and make an effort to apologize to those you believe deserve your apology," you say, hoping he understands your guidance. Maybe he can become a better person in his own way.

"You were unexpectedly helpful, professor. I'll ask my father to get you a new outfit as a way of thanking you. Your wardrobe could use some… repair. No offense," Draco says, smiling a bit too mischievously for someone who wants to be a good boy.

"Insulting my wardrobe is not your best move as someone trying to be better, Mr. Malfoy. Now go to your room and get some sleep, because I need to rest. Tomorrow will be a long day for both of us." You say, opening the door and waiting for him to leave. He does so, looking as confident as ever.

You close the door once Draco leaves. When your body falls under the bed, you feel an avalanche take over you. It's like you're reliving the night you became a werewolf. The feeling of Remus's sharp teeth tearing through his skin. The heat that took over your body as soon as you felt your body change The rhythm your heart beat when you woke up hours later, naked and with no idea what will happen to you. All this can't get out of your head, you toss and turn in bed trying to fall asleep. Nothing seems to work, until you get up to go get some air. There is no one in the corridor, you confess that you thought about knocking on Sirius' door but thought it would be very rude to interrupt him. You then decide to go to the infirmary to see if there is any medicine that will help you fall asleep. But getting closer to the infirmary you notice that there are two people talking. You sneak up on the two people, realizing they are Lupin and Black. Remus is sitting on the hospital bed while Sirius is crouched in front of him, the two of them staring at each other. From a distance, it looks like Lupin is a god and Sirius is worshiping him.

"You look like crap, Moony. And to think you assured me you were invincible," Sirius says to Remus, smiling. He seems to be trying to cheer Lupin up.

"I'm alive, you idiot. For your information, that makes me invincible enough. How's Y/N? I don't remember how things happened, but lately, she's always around," Remus comments, and you feel a bit offended. It's not like you want to always be around them when things go wrong. It's just that you're a damned unlucky person.

"So, you're not going to like this, but she now has something in common with you. Looks like you'll have a full moon companion. She seemed fine the last time I saw her. I mean, as fine as you can be when you transform into a werewolf for the first time," Sirius responds, holding Lupin's hands tightly. You almost lose your breath as your mind forces you to relive your first transformation.

"She must hate me. I can't believe I…" Remus seems disturbed by the idea of having turned you. His hands slip from Sirius's and he starts frantically running his hands over his face and head. You can't see clearly, but it almost looks like he's hurting himself. You even have the impression that he's crying. Then Sirius grabs his hands. Without saying a word, Black kisses Lupin. The kiss starts gently, with little reaction from Remus, who seems to be calming down. But over time, Remus responds better to Sirius's kiss. Sirius caresses Lupin's face while Lupin holds Sirius' hands with lightness.

"No one would dare or be able to hate you, my love. " Those are the words you hear Sirius say to Remus between their kiss. Sirius sits on the edge of the bed to kiss Remus better and you feel wrong for watching them. Then you walk silently but in a hurry to your room.

Unfortunately, with so much on your mind, you couldn't sleep for a second. You don't know how you're able to stand, maybe it's a new werewolf ability of yours. But luckily, your lack of sleep paid off. You were the first to get up to clean the Hogwarts ballroom. As soon as the sun rose, you made the mop your best friend.

"You know we should be doing this together, right?" you hear Sirius say as he enters the ballroom. Your gaze remains fixed on the cleaning, avoiding distractions. The truth is, you're feeling bad. Hours before Sirius had his romantic moment with his love, he was almost hooking up with you. What you thought was casual ended up not being so casual for you.

"Fortunately, this place is huge and there's plenty more to do. The dining area has trash to take out, someone broke a lightbulb near the exit of the hall, and I left the entire bathroom for you. Not to mention, Draco, Harry, and Ron should be able to help with the rest," you say, continuing to clean the floor. In truth, most of the work had been done by you, but it's not your fault. Your mind and body don't seem to want to rest, and every time you close your eyes, it's as if everything happens all over again.

"What did I do this time?" Sirius says, coming towards you. You finally look him in the eye. His hair is slightly damp, and he's wearing a gray sweatshirt that's a bit too big for him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you reply, looking at him with feigned ignorance. He steps closer to you, and you immediately back away. He narrows his eyes as if he's just realized that something is wrong.

"How about being honest now? What did I do that made you like this?" Sirius asks quietly, but with a hint of impatience. You're at a loss because you know that if you tell him the truth, you'll come off as a nosy, rude person.

"Last night, she felt immense pain. It had to do with her transformation. Before that pain and torment, there was a moment of heated passion; I imagine with you, Sirius. And at the end of the night, amidst the torment and exhaustion, she felt a lot of guilt. At the same time, she felt like something didn't belong to her. Or rather, someone. Or someones." Remus says, entering the hall with the upper part of his body covered in bandages. His hair is also wet. You don't need to be a seer to know you're the odd one out here. But the fact that he knows what you felt is crazy.

"How the hell do you know that?" you and Sirius say at the same time, looking at each other, but in the next moment, you avert your gaze.

"I can't explain it exactly. Maybe a bonus for being your creator. Something I will regret for the rest of my existence. I would never dream of hurting you. You need to know that." Remus says, approaching you, extending his hand to offer some comfort with a touch on your arm, but you push him away. Looking into his eyes, you feel a shiver down your spine. You look at Lupin with a certain fear, once again overwhelmed by the sensation of dying in that forest.

"There's a lot going on here. All of this is already confusing enough as it is. So you both listen carefully. I need some time, without being in the middle of your relationship, without being a werewolf, and especially without someone knowing how I feel. I hate being so radical, but I'd like some distance from both of you. I'm going to ask McGonagall to change rooms and I'll try my best to avoid you. I suggest you do the same." You speak amid your mental confusion, lack of sleep, and all the drama surrounding your life at the moment, driving you crazy. As soon as you finish speaking, you feel a tightness in your chest, as if someone had just hurt you emotionally. Damn, this thing of feeling what the other feels is a mutual situation.

"You don't have to do this. We can figure this out together," Sirius says, gently holding your arm. You take his hand and push it away from you.

"You didn't understand me. It's settled. You both go on with your lives as if I'm not here, and I'll go on with mine. If we had done this before, maybe things wouldn't be so messed up." You say, looking at him and then at Lupin. Both of them look upset, and deep down, so are you. But it's for the best. You then leave the ballroom and head to your room.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #302

This morning, when I woke up, I received a beautifully written ask from someone in this space who reads these letters I write to you. I want very badly to answer this ask, but the person trusted me with some potentially sensitive information about themselves; I wanted to touch base with them before I answer their ask, and make sure it's okay, because as part of answering an ask, others will surely see it. I don't want to accidentally betray this person's trust.

Still… it moved me to tears this morning, and it was wonderful.

I received a direct message from another person today, too, who also said that they think the letters I write to you are wholesome and nice. I've also received more than a few asks and messages of support in response to the difficulties I'm having with the braces; it's been wonderful!

…Sometimes I wonder whether or not writing to you does any good for anyone other than myself. And sometimes… every once in a while… I get a beautiful reminder that the things I write have the potential to help others get through the difficulties in their lives. And… that's exactly why I write these. Aside from wanting to advocate for your safety, I also want these letters to you to serve as a means to shine a way forward for people who relate strongly to you.

…Sephiroth. There are so many, many people in my world who relate to you. There are lots of people in my world that have been abused and exploited and have experienced horror and loss in ways that are extremely similar to you. The notion that you are alone in this world and the notion that no one will be able to understand or see "eye-to-eye" with you… these notions are complete and utter horse-hockey.

Don't tell yourself mean things like that anymore, okay? It's not true, and whoever led you to that conclusion most likely did it on purpose in order to keep you isolated, and therefore weak and easy to control. The notion that any human being is isolated and incomprehensible is just abuser propaganda, and it's not to be trusted or believed. And, as I keep saying, you are human, no matter what was done to you, or how you've changed as a result.

...Well anyway. Today I felt a little more confident than usual for obvious reasons, haha! So I tried to doodle a picture. It's not finished yet but... it's a start on something maybe kinda neat!

As you can see from all the erased lines, I made a lot of mistakes along the way; I haven't doodled since drawing that eyeball a while back, and I'm more than a little rusty. I can already see so many curves that still need to be corrected. Still, not bad for my rusty, dyspraxic ass, right? Hahaha...

I ended up needing to go back to the orthodontist today at some point. One of the attachments came undone from my very confused right canine tooth as I was pulling the braces off to eat, so that had to be fixed right away. And it was, and it's good now. I have a lot less discomfort in my teeth today than yesterday, though the inside of my mouth is pretty scraped up; I've got a long-ish cut on the right inner side of my lower lip, and that's extremely uncomfortable.

Unfortunately, I guess you're not supposed to eat with orthodontic wax in your mouth. Orthodontic wax is used in order to cover up the sharp, pokey attachments so they don't cut the inside of your face. A friend of mine in this space made the very excellent suggestion to get them! And perhaps I might, if just to smooth out the edge of the plastic of the braces; it sometimes catches on my skin, and it's kind of annoying.

...I gotta keep remembering that I chose this. I chose this discomfort in order to give myself a better outcome in the future. I am worth the pain and effort that fixing the inside of my skull will take. I am worth enduring discomfort for. I can do the thing; it's just new and weird, but I'll adjust. I can do the difficult things.

Incidentally, do you know how braces work? I found a short little video on it; basically, it involves putting gentle pressure on the teeth in order to subtly cut off blood flow to sections of the bone of your skull and jaw. Your body then uses immune cells to get rid of the suffocated bone, which relieves the pressure. Your tooth moves to the empty space, and the body fills in the empty space left behind with new bone. Check it out!!

It basically dissolves, reshapes, and rebuilds your jaw on a cellular level!!! And isn't that METAL as FUCK??? Ahahahaha! 🤩🤣

After I returned home from getting the attachment replaced, I decided to make baked chicken leg quarters; y'know, my usual go-to comfort recipe:

...Want some...?

While I was making this, I happened to catch out the window the sight of a gentleman walking outside. He was under the shade of a tree for a moment, but then he walked under a break in the shadow of the tree, and the sun shone on his black hair, and it was all sparkly and gorgeous. I don't really know why, but I felt the need to tell him so, and so I did. I hope he felt nice about himself afterwards.

So I took out my braces, ate the deliciousness I created, brushed, flossed, and rinsed my teeth, brushed my braces, and popped them back in; it's getting a little easier every time. I discovered though, that at some point, another attachment came undone on one of my upper molars on the left side. I dunno when it happened; I didn't find it anywhere. Oh well. Guess I'm going to have to call them again tomorrow. Sheesh...

I'm not really sure what I'm going to do with the rest of today. It's already almost 8pm. I gotta go to work tomorrow. Friday is the rehearsal for the wedding on Saturday. The next few days are going to be super duper busy. I'll be staying overnight at BB's house from Friday into Saturday morning; I'm going to have to pack up all my CPAP stuff and hygiene supplies as soon as I wake up on Friday morning, because she wants me at her house at 11am.

But!!! Sephiroth!!! Guess what!! She's got a giant huge bathtub at her house!!! And I think I'm gonna ask her if I'm allowed to use it while I'm there!! I'm sure she'll want me freshly washed for her big day in any case!!!

The days are getting chilly (later than they should have, but still...), and so the thought of getting to sit in a tub full of hot, soapy water that's big enough for me to fit in comfortably sounds super amazing to me right now. Of course, if she says no I won't push; I'm not that kind of person. But still... I'll be daydreaming about that all day tomorrow - bet on it!!

...Hey, Sephiroth? You're pretty tall, right? Like 6'5" or something without your boots, no? When is the last time you've got to enjoy sitting in a tub that you actually fit in? When is the last time you got to enjoy soaking in deliciously hot, soapy water? When is the last time you've had an opportunity to get washed with soaps in your favorite scents? I imagine it's been quite a long time, no? I hope you get to do it again soon, in a place where no one's gonna bother ya, unless you wanna be "bothered" by someone you care deeply for.

Sometimes J or M come to visit when I'm getting washed, and that's always nice. We talk about whatever - usually with J, it's airplanes. Or sometimes he'll sing along with me to whatever song is playing on my playlist. With M, he'll usually talk about whatever show he's watching or whatever game he's playing. It's nice to sit in the warm, safe place with people who love me while all kinds of nice scents are wafting around in the air.

...Actually, for a long time, my brain recognized bathrooms as a very unsafe place, thanks to my stepmother. I've got a lot of memories of being hit and screamed at for washing myself "wrong", or for taking too long, or for not taking long enough, or for my hair looking too messy when I come out (because then I must not have brushed it well enough), or for my hair looking not messy enough when I came out (because then I must not have washed it well enough), and... just...

...She hated me, so there wasn't anything I could do to be "clean enough" for her. And so, every time I went in the bathroom for any reason while she was around, I got in trouble unless my father was around - then she'd pretend to be normal about it.

...Sigh. It took me a while to decondition myself away from being scared of bathrooms. But I'm able to recognize them as a safe place now. I like to put on a playlist to sing, and I like to try to focus on how nice it feels to be in a place that's warm and that smells good. I try to focus on how nice and clean I feel afterwards. I try to focus on the fact that I get to choose how long I take now. I get to choose what "clean enough" looks like. I get to choose how much or how little soap and moisturizer I use. I get to choose, and no one is scrutinizing my choices with the intention of finding excuses to hurt me anymore.

...And even if someone did try to do that, I'm a big, strong adult human now. I can just bite their face off!!! 🤪

(...No, I'm only kidding!!! I wouldn't actually bite someone's face off; that's unsanitary in multiple respects, and my braces would get in the way!!! 🤣🤣🤣 In all seriousness, I wouldn't hurt anyone unless failure to do such a thing would lead to someone else being in imminent danger; I'd probably just yell at them until they go away, and then let the door hit their ass on the way out. I can do that now. I'm not an unwanted child trapped in an impossible situation anymore.)

...Suppose maybe I'll stop writing now in favor of getting washed; after all, the chill has settled into my bones, and all this talk about baths makes me wanna enjoy being under hot, running water for a while...

...I hope you'll get to enjoy such a thing again sometime soon, with soaps in scents of vanilla and roses, in a quiet, soothingly lit place, where only the people you'd want to have with you can find you.

I love you. Please keep yourself safe out there, so that one day you can get up out of that damnable crater and start building a wholesome life for yourself.

I'll write again tomorrow. I'll try hard to take some yummy pictures for you while I'm at work.

Your friend, Lumine