#but anyway pls don't hate on me i just have an opinion

[mysticfemme]

I started watching In The Heights last night because I haven't seen it (haven't finished it, I got bored), and all I can hear is Hamilton songs mixed in with heavy inspiration from Jonathan Larson and also kind of West Side Story (I've not seen it all the way through though so idk). But seriously, half the songs sound like Lin Manuel wrote them for Hamilton and then realised he was writing a different musical and just changed the lyrics 😭😭 the Latin music and inspiration definitely separates it from Hamilton but it still just sounds so similar

[crownedwille]

.

[basofy]

i hope when the lisa definitive edition releases old and new players start to see the party members as not only a fun mechanic to progress in the game but also as their second purpose (specified even in their gang page)

which is to tell how different the people of olathe are from eachother from good to neutral to bad.

all of the party members got their own personalities, points of view and goals, which i've always been appreciative of because it makes them all feel like they're their own person and it shows that they're not going to think exactly like you just because they're on your side.

so some of them can be assholes that despise brad for different reasons and are even creepy to buddy and others can just be neutral on the whole thing or don't care about brad but don't hate him and there are others who are nice people who just want someone to hang out and get attached to brad and it pains them to betray him at the end. some of them even got someone they care about too the same way brad cares for buddy.

and all of this is made just so you don't see them only as tools, they are written this way to show you what the people of olathe are like from a closer perspective. the only other way to do this would be using npcs which would go more overlooked, and it already IS overlooked by players

becuz over time i've seen toooo many fans who speak as if absolutely every man in olathe is an asshole and a pedo, which is why they congratulate tooley too much just for being decent to buddy. i like him but you give him too much credit for something other characters do as well.

and they talk like these are just 'olathe standards' and like it's okay for this game when No, this game condemns this type of behavior at all times and it makes it very clear. it's not normal, it's just common

i mean was terry a creep towards buddy??? bo?? carp?? shocklord? birdie? nern? olan? the warlords??? and more characters and there are even npcs who deeply question the stuff going on around buddy or are simply not interested in her

and then i see takes such as "maybe x character is gay becuz they don't seem interested in buddy". pal i can think of a million better reasons to consider a character gay (sometimes no reason at all, have fun). (also again, TOOLEY. i mean he was seen at the beehive, isn't that a better reason to think he's gay??)

you don't need to be a pedo and a rapist to be attracted to women, and it's crazy how little the concept of consent matters to some people, because this isn't the only time i've seen this type of thinking over a piece of media.

this is a way of thinking that comes from people who got into lisa for the fun battles and do not understand the story, and it's sorta okay, it's fine if the battles are your favorite thing or if you're not that fond of emotional stories, but you can't ignore this part of the game, to do that you better just play something else, because my problem is that when you try to explain the emotional matters of lisa's story they never want to listen; they preffer living in their little bubble of misinterpreting everything. (like the amount of times i've tried explaining to other fans why lisa isn't worst than her goddamn dad and it's like talking to a wall) like damn, i love the battles too but i can perfectly have both things yknow.

anyway just my silly little thoughs that have been going thru my mind these past weeks, i take this game too seriously but i also feel like it's dumb not to because that's what it wants you to do.

hope things go well when the definitive edition drops and that everyone enjoys it 8)

[cronchcake]

I'm not gonna elaborate because I don't want to, but I wish we could have genuine and well-argued criticism of critrole. I want my n1 fave to be criticised for its flaws. alas, most critique I see is either pretty badly argued or it's done in bad faith.

[lovingseventeen]

Hiii could you pls write about how seventeen gets their s/o to sit in their lap?? Thanks so much

svt getting their s/o to sit on their lap

a/n: i hope this is sufficient for my very delayed return (please).

seungcheol: 

✿ it's truly just second nature for him at this point

✿ he'll just casually guide you onto his lap and you don't really question it either

✿ say you're about to sit next to him on the couch

✿ as you're about to sit he'll just lightly pull your wrist in his direction and there you are

jeonghan:

✿ loves to rest his head on your shoulder when you sit on his lap

✿ the simplest "come here" and you're following

✿ he loves this because you don't even have to pay attention to him but he has all the access to wrap his arms around your middle

joshua: 

✿ pats his leg when you want to show him something on your phone

✿ "josh look at this thing i just saw-"

✿ immediately, he's sitting up and spreading his legs so you can walk in the space between them and sit on one of his thighs

✿ "let me see, pretty"

jun: 

✿ will gradually shift you onto his lap over time absentmindedly

✿ neither of you two really notice but you just wind up there

✿ you were watching a movie on opposite ends of the couch (which is fine) but now you're there??? (no one is complaining)

hoshi: 

✿ so annoying about it (i mean this in a loving way)

✿ why should you sit anywhere else when his lap is literally right there??

✿ even if you sat somewhere else without thinking about it he's jokingly scoffing "so you hate me"

✿ (it's okay, just go sit on his lap and peck his cheek and he's all giddy again)

wonwoo: 

✿ pulls you towards him by an article of clothing

✿ it could be your pants loop, the sleeve of your hoodie, or the back of your shirt

✿ he doesn't need to ask you twice :')

woozi:

✿ always asks for your opinion when he makes a new beat or writes new lyrics

✿ "i want you to listen to this" he says with a hand stretched out

✿ he likes to have you sit on his lap while he places the headphones around your ears

✿ he gently presses his forehead to your back as he waits for your thoughts

dokyeom: 

✿ perpetually wrapped around you anyway (his love language is physical touch)

✿ it doesn't take long when an arm around your shoulder as you're sitting next to each other moves to your waist

✿ then he figures this isn't close enough and he'll also maneuver you so you're eventually on his lap. he'll quite literally wrap his arms around your middle so he can move you

✿ "this is better" as he nudges his face into your neck

mingyu:

✿ will manhandle you if he has to

✿ you try teasing him just to see him get pouty and as you're trying to get away from him, he uses a little bit more of his strength to pull you towards him

✿ but as you're sat you feel him mumble against your shoulder "do you actually not want to?"

minghao:

✿ i think he's a pretty straightforward person

✿ a simple tucking your hair behind your ears and he's caught your attention

✿ "i want you closer" as he holds your arm to help you move

seungkwan: 

✿ dances around the subject instead of just telling you what he wants lol

✿ "did you know that sitting on wooden chairs is actually bad for your back? there's no cushioning"

✿ "oh really? should we order cushions then or-"

✿ "you could sit somewhere else"

✿ "but i need the table for my laptop and i get so lazy on the couch-"

✿ "then maybe you could just sit here" he offers, moving his chair back to welcome you. then it all clicks (he's a dork)

vernon: 

✿ also probably someone who just tugs you gently in his direction

✿ i don't think he'd need to use words for you to get it either

✿ even if you're standing around him doing anything else and you feel him lightly pull the back of your sweater you follow him without giving it much thought

chan:

✿ as long as you're in his vicinity he pulls you with him as he sits down

✿ both of you just came home from work? he's dropping himself down on the couch and you're coming with him

✿ has most definitely missed at least once and you both landed on the floor

[miley1442111]

(part 1) before his choice- a.donaldson

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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

this is like the prelude to the other stuff but i get that it's confusing that it's coming out later- i didn't think i'd turn this into a series so i didn't exactly have a plan, sorry :)

this is 18+, mdni plssss

summary: how it was before art ruined your relationship

pairing: art donaldson x reader

warnings: smuttttt, 18+, piv using protection (don't be silly, wrap it), oral (f receiving), cute couple moments

(i think that's it but pls tell me if i forgot anything:)

Part 1 of 12

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“There goes Stanford’s favourite couple!” Megan rolled her eyes playfully. Art had his arms draped around your shoulders as you walked around campus as the sun set. Art chuckled and flipped her off, smirking as you laughed. Megan had been your roommate in your first year and you’d been best friends ever since.

You and Art were Stanford’s favourite couple. You were tennis prodigies, both extremely talented and both of you were friends with basically everyone. Everyone was always rooting for the two of you, apparently there was a fan page dedicated to your relationship. 

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“How was practice with Tash?” He asked, his arms circling your waist as you leant against the wall, waiting in line in the canteen. 

“Fine, she’s getting better,” You shrugged. Tashi had never been able to beat you, but she was getting better.

“She’s not going to beat you,” He smirked, pressing kisses against your cheeks.

“She’s really good!” You giggled, feeling his hands squeeze your waist harder. “I wouldn’t mind, maybe then she wouldn’t hate me.”

“Tashi doesn’t hate you,” he shook his head. He knew it was a semi-lie, Tashi didn't like loosing. You were the only person capable of making her loose.

“She doesn’t like me Art, it’s fine, I don’t mind,” you sighed. “Anyway, enough tennis, what are we doing tonight?”

Art smirked. “We have that party-”

You groaned. Art always wanted to go out, then leave early. In your opinion, why not just cut out the middleman and go straight to your dorm? “Art, what is the point?”

“You look hot in dresses,” He shrugged and chuckled as you playfully hit him on the arm. “Come on, it’ll be fun! We can dance and hang out with our friends.”

You rolled your eyes at the way he’s pretending it’s a choice. “It’s not like I have a choice, I picked date night last time.” 

“Exactly, so we’re going,” he grinned and you cupped his cheek, kissing him heavily. He was so beautiful, what else were you supposed to do? You pulled away quickly and moved up in the line, beginning to order both your lunches. You drove Art insane sometimes. Your pretty tennis skirts, your sweet lips on his, you. 

He did recognise that his brain was still stuck in the gutter like a teenage boy when it came to sex. He didn’t seem to mind much though. 

He placed his hand on your ass as you ordered for the both of you and he saw how you gulped.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one who’s head was in the gutter. 

You collected your food and sat at a table together, enjoying the canteen food.

“You’ll wear the red dress, right?” He asked. It was his favourite colour, and the colour of the college that the two of you would be representing. 

“No, Nike sent over something for me to wear, I think it’s purple,” you shrugged. Your partnership with Nike meant at every event you went to, you were representing them. That meant they were often sending you new things. 

“Purple?” He questioned.

“Yeah, like plum-y purple,” you shrugged. 

“Can’t wait,” he winked at you and you kicked him under the table. 

Tonight was going to be a long night. 

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You finished styling your hair as Art walked into your dorm, baby blue shirt and some black formal trousers on, his blonde curls looking particularly beautiful. The dress Nike had sent over was beautiful, Art’s jaw dropped when he saw you. 

You were gorgeous. 

“Hey baby,” You smiled at him, pressing a kiss to his stunned cheek. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He stated. You chuckled at him as his hands gripped your waist, making you look at him. “You’re so, so beautiful.”

“You look handsome,” You smiled, smoothing out his collar. “Ready to go?”

“We’re not going anywhere,” he decided, lust-filled eyes staring into yours before he pressed his lips to yours in a searing kiss. 

You kissed back immediately, your hands running through his curls. You probably had a ‘thing’ for his hair. His hands smoothed up the expanse of your back, pulling you impossibly closer. This is what he was, passionate, loving, and a little bit possessive. He radiated heat, his chest against your as he pushed you against the wall, his lips never leaving yours. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your lips as your hands dipped lower, going directly for his trousers zipper. 

“So are you,” you smiled, kissing him again. His hands found the zipper at the back of your dress, letting it fall to the floor at your feet. You unzipped him then started working on his shirt buttons, both of you forgetting about the party. 

His hands quickly pulled at your bra and underwear, leaving you bare as he stripped himself, thanking his past self for keeping a stock of condoms in your bedside table. He leaned over, quickly grabbing one and opening it with his teeth, sheathing his hard cock as you looked at him under you. He met your glazed eyes, lustfully looking at him, a soft smile on your face. 

You were so beautiful. 

You sank down on him, never quite used to the stretch he provided. “Fuck,” you moaned out. 

His eyes rolled back as you buried him inside of you. His hands gripped your waist, the faint remnants of bruises left from earlier in the week, when he was in this exact position. He pulled your face down to his as you started moving and started kissing up and down your neck between moans. He changed the position slightly, thrusting up into you to reach the gummy spot inside of you that made you scream out for him.

“God,” he groaned. “Fuck… f-fuck.”

You felt so good around him, it was one of his favourite feelings, the absolute euphoria of having your wrapped around him, using him to get yourself off.  

“You’re so good,” you whined breathlessly. “So good.”

Your voice and moans spurred him on, he loved your voice. He loved everything about you. 

“You gonna cum?” He whined, thrusting up into you. You nodded, bouncing on him harder as you began reaching your climax. He felt you tighten around him and he gasped, trying to not cum so quickly. 

“I’m c-cumming,” You groaned in his ear and he was a goner. He cupped your cheek, hap-harzardly kissing you to swallow the scream that was bound to leave his lips. You gripped his hips to still his uncoordinated and subscious thrusts as you both came down from your highs. 

Art still wasn’t done, he needed to taste you. “Let me taste it, please?” He begged, pulling himself out of you. “Please?”

“Art, we’re already late,” you reminded him through your sex-fueled haze. 

“Please, just let me kiss it,” he begged, kissing down your body, his fingers finding your sopping core. You moaned at the contact and nodded, a meek ‘please’ leaving your lips. 

That was all the confirmation Art needed. He latched his lips onto your clit, drawing out moan after moan. His fingers pumped in and out of you slowly, paying special attention to your g-spot. His tongue sucked over your over-sensitive clit and brought you to another two orgasms, not being able to stop himself from humping the bed in his enchanted state. He loved how you tasted, he couldn’t get enough of it, he never wanted to. If he could spend his days between your legs he would. 

After you came for the third time that night, he connected your lips again and smiled at you. “Thank you.”

Your fucked-out face was truly a sight to behold, and he had the pleasure of seeing it whenever he pleased. 

“Come on, we have a party to go to,” He smirked and you whined as he cleaned you up by running three fingers through your soaking core and licking them clean. 

He appreciated the new marks on your neck that he had created as you slowly got up. You dressed yourself in the beautiful dress once again, fixing your hair and makeup, then spraying yourself with some more perfume, attempting to cover the smell of sex. 

As you sat in the passenger seat of his car, he thought about how perfect you were, his hand in yours as he drove you to the party. 

Little did he know that this party would lead to the beginning of the end of your relationship.

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art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[nereidprinc3ss]

okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em

hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it

warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......

a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye

“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.” 

“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.” 

He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief. 

“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.” 

“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.” 

The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication. 

You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest. 

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.” 

Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest. 

“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.” 

Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you. 

“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.” 

And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there. 

The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.  

You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?  

It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday. 

---------------------------------------------------

The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.  

He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence. 

“Can we talk?” 

You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph. 

“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?” 

“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!” 

The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth. 

Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with. 

“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.” 

“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?” 

His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins. 

“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.” 

“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.” 

He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.  

“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?” 

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad. 

“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”  

You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you. 

“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.” 

You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake. 

After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered. 

“Are you still mad at me?” 

He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm. 

“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.” 

“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.” 

He chuckles. 

“At an entirely different university.” 

“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”

While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident. 

“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.” 

“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?” 

Spencer sighs. 

“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.” 

You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin. 

“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.

Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected. 

“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.” 

But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.

[ccraccz]

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

Winbre boys X f!reader. LMAOOO PLS

our dear reader is being clingy and playful. Loves PDA and ain't afraid to show it.

ANON PLEASE!!!!!!!!! ON MY KNEES, MY HEART HURTS FROM WRITING THIS, THIS IS SO CUTE. I need them all to cuddle me rn, sight. ANYWAYS, THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH OF THE REQUEST!!! <333333

Characters: Suo, Uryu, Seiryu, Sakura x F!reader

Outwardly affectionate

Suo Hayato

He. would. not. Mind.

Actually, he would relish in your affections

holding your hand, having your arm wrapped around his, an arm around your waist, anything to hold you close and show the world that your his

he lives for it

especially when Sakura is near by and sees you both, you playing with his fingers as he looks at you with the softest of looks.

Sakura basically implodes when he catches both of you

you both find it so funny though, its adorable

when he walks you to school, you don't forget to hug him and kiss him on the cheek or on the lips, depending on how you're feeling, making the girls in your school jealous

the thrives off of your affections, cute remarks, constant touching, it reassures him of your love and more...

Uryu Sakaki

Bro could not care less

he'll let you do whatever you want, and he would not react

but you know him too well, and the light blush on his cheeks makes it obvious that he doesn't mind at all

want to play with his fingers while whispering how much you love him? he'll look at you, eyes gentle and nod along to your words.

he isn't one to be verbal in any way, so he, after letting you say the nicest of words and letting you cling to him as you both walk around, gets you plushies, flowers, any food you want, and more

he would give you anything if you were to even utter the word

Your love language and his are very different, but both of you compliment each other either way

but, he does love when you cuddle up to him, especially since your body heat is one of the most comforting things he has ever felt n his opinion, but he won't tell you that verbally.

h̶e̶ w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ l̶o̶v̶e̶ t̶o̶ h̶a̶v̶e̶ h̶i̶s̶ h̶e̶a̶d̶ j̶u̶s̶t̶… s̶h̶o̶v̶e̶d̶ i̶n̶t̶o̶ y̶o̶u̶r̶ b̶o̶o̶b̶s̶, s̶m̶a̶l̶l̶ o̶r̶ b̶i̶g̶, t̶h̶a̶t̶ c̶h̶e̶s̶t̶ i̶s̶ h̶i̶s̶ t̶o̶ l̶a̶y̶ o̶n̶

Seiryu Sakaki

He loves it!!!!

he'll kiss the crown of your head, he bring your hands up to his lips and kiss your knuckles, he'll let you cling to his arm, and he'll hold you close by the waist

he'll tell you how much he loves you, and laugh with you when you tell him the stupidest but cutest comments about your love for him

If you're not near him, it feels a bit weird, but its tolerable

his messages with you would be constant whines that he misses you and hat he loves you.

it's a constant I love you, I love you more fight with the two of you that Uryu sometimes has to put on headphones because he's sick of the both you

he bumps into you constantly for funny haha's, making the both of you go into giggle fits as you bump him back and cling to him when he tries bumping into you

He finds it adorable, and especially loves when you run your hands through his hair when he lays on your lap, watching the show you got him into, your nails (manicured or not, even if your nails are bitten) scratching and massaging his scalp

he could literally just fall asleep in that perfect situation he is in.

Sakura Haruka

He hates how much power you have over him He loves it

He's always so red, and you live for it

you kiss his cheek, he screams and gets people watching while you giggle at his reaction

it makes you sad though, thinking about how lonely he must have been to never experience the warmth of love

so you make sure he knows EVERYTHING

you make sure he knows how much you love him, making sure to text him that you're looking forward to seeing him after school, or that you love him, or that you miss him and want his cuddles!

every time he reads those types of messages, he flushes bright pink, grabbing the attention of his friends and making them giggle at him when they find out the message is from you

he would never tell you this, but he loves when you smother him with kisses and hold him close, letting him wrap his arms around your waist while your wrap yours around his neck and kiss his lips again and again and again.

[madamestephanie]

🌺I honestly think Sirius Black's 12 years in Azkaban was karmic retribution for bullying Severus.

Okay, hear me out, this thought was doing circles in my mind, because the layout is just too perfect. (this is still just my personal opinion, so don't kill me pls)

There are no accidents and The outcome will always match the input are applicable here. Let me explain.

These are laws of the universe, many religions believe in these statements, and if we truly examine our lives, we surely can find one or two scenarios where these pieces of wisdom appear.

As we all know, we ourselves create our own future with our actions and the way we make people feel, (keep this in mind, this is important for later), and for those believing in reincarnation, actions can result in certain punishments that reach us even in our next life. (In Sirius' case, the punishment is not from his past life, but I digress.)

Punishment is not even a good word. Energy matching is a better expression. Vibe, if you will. The whole universe is one constant oscillation. Feelings have vibration, this is why people can read and be affected by other's vibe.

Anyways, point is, if you behave badly, bully others, and make people feel anger, hate, resentment towards you, those low vibes will return to you in one way or another, and that's what we call KARMA. (it's true the other way around as well, do positive things, and you shall receive good back) Do you see where this is going?

To be honest, all of the marauders got their "punishment" for their deeds, and according to the level of participation in said bullying withal!

Lupin, he wasn't too involved in the torment of Snape, plus, he had his own issue to battle (being a damn werewolf) so life kept him in a kind-of-normal place, a middle spot. Still, Severus set the score when he revealed Lupin's secret in POA, so there, punished accordingly.

Peter, I like to imagine him as the parrot on James and Sirius' shoulder, like the backup hype man for the rappers. He stayed in James and Sirius' shadow out of cowardice, but still took part in the bullying more so than Lupin, so he was forced to stay in his rat form for 12 years out of fear. I imagine it's not quite pleasant to be a rat for that long... plus he became Sev's "servant" for a short while, courtesy of Voldemort himself! So, checkmate on Snape's part. Punished accordingly.

Sirius. Need I say more? Years of harassing others gets you years of torment for yourself as well, my friend. He was innocent in the case of not killing people, but he wasn't innocent in the eyes of the universe. Every time he spit out Snivellus through his teeth, every time he thought he should pick on Snape just for fun, all of that was poured right back onto him in Azkaban. He felt the same fear as Snape, the same irritation as Snape, the same humiliation as Snape. He asked himself when will this end? every day, just like Snape did. What goes around, comes around, dude. Punished accordingly.

James. I don't even have to expand his case. 😂 Instant death, as soon as he was out of school. XD And again, from the universe's perspective, it happened indirectly by the hand of Snape, because he was the one who told the prophecy to Voldemort and the rest is history.

There are no accidents.

And as a last fun fact: They died in the exact order of their crime's severity. I close my case.

Thank you for coming to my mental TED talk. ❤

[bonesxbows]

Colors of the Underdark (Astarion x Reader)

My Masterlist

A trip to the Underdark goes south and you're left with no light source. Your human eyes become useless and you start to panic. You're terrified of the dark and there's nothing but darkness around you down here. Astarion can tell and can actually see you start to panic. He tries his best to comfort you.

(WARNINGS) - Descriptions of the dark - Descriptions of fear - Anxious feelings - Descriptions of a panic attack

I'm still trying to get a sense of writing his character, this is my first attempt so pls be nice if it's bad. This was also written over the course of a couple of days so sorry if it's a bit choppy. The idea came from the fact that humans are like one of the few species that don't have dark vision. I'm also afraid of the dark so it's a tad self-indulgent lol. Hopefully, you still enjoy it, reblogs are much appreciated :)

Banners by @strangergraphics

A sudden gust of wind blew your burning torch to mere embers, encasing you and your party in pure and utter darkness. The only source of light anywhere around was the few glowing mushrooms miles away, but the only thing they did was remind you of the cavern system that surrounded you, threatening to suffocate you at a moment's notice.

“Fuck…fuck!” You screamed, your heart immediately beginning to sputter and race.

“Relax darling, it's just a little darkness, nothing to worry over.” His voice was relaxed, calm, collected, and in control. Every emotion opposite of what you were feeling.

“Relax?! Are you insane? We need to get out of here, now!” Your voice was laced with panic and you were beginning to hyperventilate.

“Are they okay?” You could hear Gale ask, although the answer he was looking for was very much apparent. Astarion was starting to worry, though he didn’t let the others see. He didn't answer Gale and instead barked an order.

“Set up camp, we’ll stay here for the time being.” He told him.

“But-”

“It's not up for debate and I didn't ask for your opinion nor your advice. Go.”

Gale scoffed but did as he was told and Shadowheart followed him without any comment. You were now on your knees scratching the head of your torch on the rocky ground, desperately trying to spark it alight again. As soon as Gale and Shadowheart were out of earshot Astarion kneeled next to you and his confident exterior fell away to sadness. The sight of you being so scared and desperate broke his heart. Of course, he could see every detail around him easily, even the crease of your brow as you concentrated on your futile task. He couldn’t imagine what your perspective as a human was like; was it pure pitch black? Could you still see the outlines of your surroundings? Did you even sense him near you? Trying to put himself in your shoes reminded him of his punishment of being locked inside that mausoleum so many years ago and he hated that feeling. Most of all he hated the idea of you experiencing that same amount of fear.

“Darling? Can you look at me?” He asked you in a soft voice. You didn't reply and he could now see tears start to flood your face. His frown deepened and so he reached forward and grabbed the torch out of your hands before you started to scrape the tips of your fingers raw. Your fingernails were already suffering from the constant friction. You practically jumped out of your skin from his unexpected interference. “I'm sorry my sweet but you're starting to hurt yourself. This torch is beyond dead anyway, beating it against the ground won't do you any good.” He tossed it aside and both of you could hear the wood bounce against the stone ground with a hollow clunk. You stared right at him, whether you realized you were doing so or not, and your face tore a new hole in his undead heart; you were seriously frightened, tears stained your face, and your eyes took no hesitation in replacing them with fresh ones. You were visibly shaking and you were constantly blinking, no doubt trying to find any sense of purchase of your surroundings.

“Astarion…”

“Yes?”

“I can't see you.”

“I know darling.”

“I'm afraid of the dark.”

You spoke in whispers, he almost didn't hear your confession. For once he was glad you couldn't see him, his first reaction was shock and it showed on his face. You were so fearless in battle, nothing scared you then, and you were always so confident in your actions, nothing like the person in front of him now. How could someone like you be so afraid of something so non-threatening? You continued to stare at him, tears still streaming down your face. He could hear your heartbeat start to speed up even faster.

“Astarion…? Are you…are you still there?” Your voice was scratchy from fear. His eyes widened as he realized what he had inadvertently done; his delay in response had given you the impression that he had gotten up and left you all alone. He quickly remedied his mistake by reaching out and grasping your hands in his, again making you jump out of your skin from the sudden unexpected contact. He silently cursed himself for scaring you again, he'd get better at this one day he promised himself, but immediately your heart began to calm down slightly from his cool touch.

“I'm here my sweet, I won't leave you.” You breathed a sigh of relief and you let go of one of his hands, fumbling it around to find his shoulder. He stayed still, letting you find him through touch and letting you get a sense of your surroundings by comparing your location to his. He wanted to laugh, your hand movements were adorable, like a puppy using its nose to find food, but he held his tongue. He didn't want to make this moment any more uncomfortable for you than it already was. It took you a minute but eventually, you grasped his shoulder.

“Can I…can I come closer?” You asked. He couldn't help but smile at your timid question. You were still shaking with fear but yet you still remembered to ask before touching him in any intimate way.

“Oh, my love…how could I say no to you? Come here, I’ll help you.” As you began to scoot closer to him he moved his hands to your upper arms to guide you, pulling you in the right direction towards him. You fumbled a bit but he helped you settle in his lap, nestled in between his legs with his arms wrapped around you. You were facing away from him, but you didn't mind this time, you couldn't see his face anyway regardless in the darkness. You could sense his arms around your waist and you could feel his cold hands on your stomach even through your armor. Your surroundings were still nothing but pitch black from your perspective, but the feeling of his body pressed up against yours helped start to calm your frazzled nerves. You couldn't see him, you couldn't see anything, but you knew you were safe with him. He was being your eyes and he would protect you when you couldn't protect yourself. You leaned back into him and he tightened his arms around you, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

“You're safe with me darling. The darkness can’t hurt you.” He whispered into your ear. The trust you had built with each other was enough for you to let yourself believe him. Your body had started to return to normal, your breathing was becoming even and your heart rate was turning into a steady rhythm.

“Where are the others?” you asked. You had no sense if they were even still around, you still couldn't see anything and you couldn't hear them either, but you assumed Astarion could.

“Don't worry your sweet little head about them, they're alright.” As soon as he finished his sentence a faint orange glow lit up the nearby area. You had stayed as still as possible so far but your head whipped in the direction of the new source of light as soon as it appeared. Your hair brushed against Astarion’s face aggressively when you turned, but he was too relieved to mind. He could feel the tension melt from your body. He watched as you forcefully blinked, adjusting your eyes from the pitch darkness to the now faint light. The rest of the party had finally sparked the campfire and they were now preoccupied with trying to roast something over it. You turned back to Astarion and caught the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

“Are you alright? Better now with the light?” he asked, moving one of his hands to push a strand of your hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. You nodded, grateful he had stayed with you.

“Can I…um…” your words were failing you again but you glanced down at his lips and he understood. His smile grew a little wider.

“Of course my love.”

You were quick. He barely had time to react before the force of you sent you both tumbling backward. Your lips crashed into his and your hands grasped his shoulders, holding on to him like a lifeforce. Once he had balanced the two of you again he gently grabbed your face, deepening the kiss and teasingly nicking your bottom lip with his fangs. You retreated after he did so, but you were smiling. You placed your forehead against his and stared into those ruby eyes you loved. He returned the same look of admiration and love.

“Thank you,” you told him. He pecked your lips again.

“You don't always need me to protect you, but I most certainly will whenever I can. Nothing will harm you while I'm around. Not here in the Underdark, nor anywhere else. I love you too much to let anything happen to you.”

[midnightsnyx]

girl at home | mat barzal | part 5

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader summary: you’re eighteen when you find yourself pregnant after Mat leaves for hockey. nearly eight years later, Mat finds out about your daughter and you have to deal with the consequences of not telling him about her.

warnings: swearing, angst, food, fluff, not edited word count: 2.3k authors note: it's my bday tmw and i am going out of town for the weekend so i wanted to get this posted!! also, i have no idea how pr management works so i def got everything wrong so pls don't yell at me lol i feel like this chapter is just like a roller-coaster that went off the tracks and blew up and someones trying to put it back together with tape from the dollar store so im sorry but i hope yall like it anyway and don't hate me pls <3 send your thoughts or come yell at me about this story bc I LOVE hearing from you guys!! It feeds my writing soul. thank u all for the love on this story so far and lmk if you wanna be added to my taglist. also thinking about doing some smau for this fic and wondering if you guys have any ideas or suggestions?

if you asked to be added to the taglist and didn't get tagged it's cause you didn't show up when i searched for you! so shoot me a msg and we can figure it out. also if you want to be added or taken off the taglist please let me know <3

requests are open. masterpost masterlist taglist form ask box

You didn’t think the situation with Mat’s statement could get any worse. You were already being pestered by your mom, your friends and even other parents at the day camps Nora attended. Mostly everyone knew that it was true that Mat was her father at that point so the statement caused questions to rise. Ignoring everybody’s opinions about it was easy but six simple words from Nora were what broke you. 

“I thought Mat was my daddy,” she said softly while eating breakfast one morning. She had been quiet since the day before but it continued when she woke up the next morning. You thought maybe she was just moody and tired but it ended up being much more than that.

It took you a minute to answer, trying to figure out where she might have heard or been told that. It wasn’t that surprising that she might have gotten the impression that he was her dad considering how much time Mat had been spending with the two of you or she overheard a conversation. Kids are very perceptive but you couldn’t see how anyone would directly tell her about the public statement and you had been very careful about what you said around Nora and told everyone else to do the same. 

Apparently someone didn’t get the memo. 

You had two options. You could lie to Nora about what was going on or you could explain it in the best way you could to her. Lying to your daughter was the last thing you wanted to do but figuring out the easiest way to explain it so she would understand was hard. How were you supposed to explain that yes, Mat is her daddy but he was a fucking idiot and told the world that she’s not even though he said he wanted to be in her life. It would have been so simple to take the easy way out but it wouldn’t have been fair to Nora so after she finished her breakfast, you sat her down. 

“You’re feeling a little confused, huh?” you asked, watching her fiddle with a loose string on her sweater. 

She nodded, still not looking up at you and not offering her thoughts. It was a bit alarming because she was usually a chatterbox, even when she was upset about something. She would let you know exactly what was wrong. 

“Who told you Mat was your daddy?” 

She finally looked up at you, and the tears threatening to spill from her eyes made you both angry and upset. You were ready to find whoever told her and scream at them but her answer stunned you.

“I heard you talking to Jaxy,” she whispered. “I wasn’t trying to listen but I was coming out to get some water and you said that you were mad at Mat.” 

She didn’t elaborate on what else she may have heard which was unnerving because you probably said a lot of things about Mat that night when Jax came over to talk to you about it. You hoped she didn’t stay long enough for your breakdown where you had cried for thirty straight minutes. 

She sniffled, wiping a couple tears away. “I don’t understand.”

Your heart broke but you still struggled with how to explain everything to her. Telling her in the beginning was probably a better idea but you were so caught up in your own thoughts and feelings, you ignored the person who should have been your number one priority the entire time. 

“Mat is your daddy, baby,” you said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

I’m sorry I kept you a secret.

“How come everyone is saying he’s not?” 

Mat should have been the one to answer this question because it was his doing, but you hadn’t spoken to him since the night he was at your apartment and the two of you argued. He had texted you the day after but you ignored it because you didn’t know what you would say when given the chance.

“Well, sometimes people make mistakes and Mat said something he shouldn’t have,” you explained, hoping it was enough and it seemed to be enough at first but then she hugged you tightly.

“I love you mama,” she said and before you could reply, she quietly asked, “Do you think Mat loves me?” 

“I’m sure he does,” you told her and it took everything in you not to cry. 

. . .

Liana: dinner at our place @ 6. bring nora and don’t be late!!!

You’re tempted to decline the request and just stay home but you’ve been promising Liana and Nadia that you would actually visit instead of dropping Nora off and leaving like you’ve been doing. Avoiding Mat is becoming increasingly difficult. It’s been two weeks since he released the statement and a week since your conversion with Nora. She’s been asking a lot of questions, ones that you didn’t plan on having to answer so soon. You expected her to be angry with you for not telling her but she took your confirmation that Mat’s her dad with ease. 

So it didn’t come as a surprise when her first question was whether Mat would be at the Barzal household for this dinner. You hadn’t bothered to ask Liana, mainly because you knew it would definitely impact your decision to agree to go. 

“Did you know that Zoe’s mom and dad aren’t together either?” She says during the drive to the Barzal’s. 

You do know this but you humor her. “Really?”

“Yup. Zoe said she spends weekends with her dad and stays with her mommy during the week,” she explains and then moves on to a different topic. You’re a little curious why she would talk about her friends’ living arrangements but when you finally pull into the driveway, your question is answered. 

“Do I have to stay at Mat’s on the weekend?” She asks and if you hadn’t already parked the car, you would have hit the brakes. 

“No,” you say a little too quickly and sharply because she frowns. 

“How come?”

You don’t answer her question right away, getting out of the car and walking around to the other side. She’s already unbuckling her seatbelt by the time you open the door and she’s still frowning. 

“Just no, Nora.”

“But Zoe does!”

You can’t explain custody agreements to a seven-year-old so you say the first excuse you can think of. 

“He doesn’t live here,” you say, taking her hand and begin walking towards the house. She’s dragging her feet, clearly not happy with your response. 

“Do I have to call him dad?” 

“No.”

“Why?”

“Just ‘cause,” you say, stopping at the door and turning to her. Her arms are crossed and she’s giving you the look that says she won’t let up until you give her an answer she wants.

“Do you want to call him dad?” 

She pauses, looking down at the ground and frowning. After a moment she shakes her head. 

“No, but Miss. Jones says you’re not supposed to call your mommy and daddy by their first names ‘cause it’s disrespectful.” 

“It’s not up to Miss. Jones,” you say gently. “This is new, and you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

After a moment, she mutters a quiet “okay,” and then: “do you think Nadia has ice-cream for dessert?”

“Guess we’ll have to go inside and ask,” you reply and raise your fist to knock on the door but it swings open before you can. Liana is waiting on the other side with a big smile on her face. Nora runs straight to her and giggles when the older girl picks her up and swings her around. 

“C’mon in,” Liana says, ushering you inside. So far there’s no sign of Mat so some of the tension leaves your body. After putting both yours and Nora’s shoes aside, you make your way to the kitchen. Nadia is puttering around, juggling a million things but she still smiles softly when she sees you. 

“Can I help with anything?” 

“You can keep me company,” she says and points to a chair. “Sit down and update me on what you’ve been up to.”

You know that you can’t argue with her so you sit and chat idly with her. She doesn’t bring up anything to do with Mat and you’re not sure what to think about it. You almost slip up and ask if he’s going to be here for dinner but decide not to. You haven’t seen him around since you arrived, so he’s probably out. Maybe with a girl. 

Not that you care, obviously. 

Mike eventually pokes his head in the kitchen to greet you and ask how you’ve been. He offers to set the table but Nadia shoos him out of the kitchen, rolling her eyes fondly. 

“Don’t get married, they’re nothing but trouble,” she jokes but there’s a smile on her face that lingers even after her husband leaves. You always admired their relationship, and were certain that you and Mat would be like it some day but it wasn’t in the cards. 

Soon, Nadia calls everyone to dinner. Nora immediately asks why Mat isn’t here and there’s an awkward silence until Liana breaks it.

“He’s busy,” she tells Nora and that must be enough because she just nods and starts eating dinner. Nothing else is said about Mat but just as you’re all finishing dessert, you hear the door open and close and there’s only one person you figure it will be.  

Mat walks into the dining room, clearly caught off guard by your presence. Nora hops off her chair and darts over to him, wrapping her arms around his legs and starts chatting excitedly. He’s trying to give her all his attention but his eyes keep flickering to you. 

When Nadia and Mike get up to start clearing the table and Liana asks Nora if she wants to go watch a movie, you realize that the three of them planned this. It’s almost like you’re kids again, fighting about something stupid and needing his parents to help fix the problem. 

Mat looks at you a little helplessly when the room clears and it’s just the two of you. There’s no way you can yell at him with his family and Nora in the next room and you realize that was also probably planned. 

“Can we talk?” he asks and you really don’t want to, but you realize that eventually you’re going to have to talk to him so you nod. You follow him out the back door and the two of you sit on the porch steps in silence until you finally break it.

“Why didn’t you come to me about what PR wanted to do? We could have figured out something together.”

He shrugs, looking at the ground. “I didn’t think to ask you about it. I just wanted to fix everything before it got complicated. I wasn’t thinking.” 

“Yeah, no shit,” you mutter. “That’s something you’re great at. You don’t think before you do anything.” 

You jump when he stands up suddenly and turns to face you. He’s angry but so are you.

“No, fuck that. You can’t just expect me to do everything right, when a month ago, all I had to worry about was hockey. I can’t be number one dad overnight! You didn’t even tell me about her for six years!” 

You’re a bit taken off guard by his sudden outburst but you can do anger too.

“That is the exact reason I didn’t tell you about her, Mat. Hockey is always going to come first in your life,” you snap. “And I didn’t ask you to be a number one dad, all I asked was that you be sure you wanted to be in her life before you committed to anything because this is exactly what I was worried about.” 

He falters a little, probably not expecting you to return the anger. 

“I didn’t want to post what they asked me to,” he says, sounding defeated. “But I didn’t know how to say no. When PR tells you to jump, you jump.”

You’ve no idea how public relations in hockey works, it’s possible that they would have posted the statement without asking Mat but you’re so damn angry. You’re angry but you don’t know who you’re even supposed to be mad at now. 

“You should have come to me,” you say again. “That’s how co-parenting works, you know.”

His mouth twitches. “That’s what we were doing?”

You can feel the anger slowly dissipating. Mat’s shoulders aren’t as tense and he plops back down on the steps so you sit next to him, letting your shoulders and knees knock against his.

“Well, you are her dad,” you admit. “And she is very concerned about her future living arrangements.”

He looks at you a little confused but there’s a small smile spreading across his face. 

“Does she know?”

“Yeah,” you tell him. “She’s smarter than you expect sometimes.”

“She gets that from you,” he says, poking your arm.

You roll your eyes fondly. “Well she had to get her brains from someone.”

He huffs but it sounds more like a laugh. You watch him look at the ground, brows furrowed and deep in thought.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?”

Here’s the thing that a lot of people don’t know about Mat: he doesn’t forgive himself easily. It’s something you learned the hard way when you were younger and dating. 

So you know he will beat himself up over this until you forgive him. 

“Yeah, but we both did.” You bump your knee against his until he looks up at you. “We can fix it, but we have to do it together.”

He holds out his pinky finger. ”Co-parenting, right?”  

You hook your finger around his and nod, letting yourself relax for the first time in weeks. It’s going to take time, hard work, and you’re both going to have to learn how to trust and communicate better again but you're sure you’ll get there.

“Together,” you agree.

tag list: @literatureluster @dasiysthings @barzyblogbabe @diary-of-jj @heatherawoowoo @fallinallincurls @topguncultleader @shadowsndaisies @lovinbarzal @whatthepuckisgoingon @alilstressyandlotdepressy @teapartydreams @keiva1000

[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

sneak peek on the itachi and shisui one pls pls that sounds so intriguing 😩

k y'all i don't know how to do sneak peeks, so this is literally the start of the story, like our girl befriending itachi and meeting shisui. something's wrong w me, i'm too longwinded.

anyway, this is the original request - thank you so much to this person, whoever you are, you beautiful mind. death and angst to come, but for now, enjoy the fluff and smidge of tension, i suppose.

"Thinking about an Uchiha love triangle with Shisui and Itachi. Neither of them got to confess to the girl when they were still kids (also given how things played out for Shisui and Itachi….…) What if Shisui asked Itachi to keep her safe as one final wish? And that years after, she and Itachi ended up accidentally reconnecting. With him as an Akatsuki and her being assigned to investigate them and their whereabouts? What if after all these years, he’s always kept Shisui’s promise? That he’s always been her shadow??? That his feelings for her never faded????? HhhhhH Djdjdncn I’m definitely not a writer but I’m imagining angst. So much angst."

Masterlist💿

Loving From Afar

Pairing: Uchiha Itachi x f!Reader x Uchiha Shisui

Summary: A little brainwashed by public opinion, our reader is extremely stand-offish when faced with an Uchiha. Itachi changes that, and then had to deal with our reader being nicer to Shisui than she was to him in the beginning.

W/c: 5.3k (IM SO SORRY)

Warnings: Reader's a nervous puker, talk of throwing up but not particularly detailedly, kids flirting with kids (it's all rated G, dw), brief kids bullying kids, Itachi trying to overshadow his cousin

Ages: Itachi - 6 in the first n second bits, 7 in the third | Y/n - 7 in the first n second bits, 8 in the third | Shisui - 9 in the third

Notes: lmk if y'all fuck with this, if y'all hate this, what you would change, add, keep, throw away - just let me know!!!!

You wished you hadn't been so quick to assume the opinion of your parents, in your younger years. 

Your father, a Jonin, terribly wounded by the attack of the Nine Tails, cursed the Uchiha, whom he was certain were behind the carnage. Though a housewife, your mother steadfastly stood by his opinion, spitting on the once noble name with her husband. Like most of the village, you listened to those who seemed to know best.

They were evil, so evil that even the farmers on the countryside called the Uchiha a Family of Red Devils. Your thoughts were rightfully in accordance with the general public opinion - but it seemed you were one of the few sensible children at the Academy.

"Isn't he dreamy?" Yuna sighed, staring at Itachi over her sandwich.

"Totally," Mio agreed. She didn't even pretend to eat, like Yuna. Mio just stared at Itachi unabashedly, with her elbow propped on her knee and head in hand. "None of the boys in our year have muscles like his."

"Do you think he likes girls with-"

"Who cares what he likes?" You snapped, swallowing a mouthful of white rice. Mio and Yuna both turned their heads painfully slow, looking at you like you had just committed the highest treason. Indignant, you scoffed, quoting your parents, "He's an Uchiha - they're all reprobates, all rotten, vile people, and the more rotten and vile they are, the more powerful, and dangerous, they become. They come in two flavours only; weak or awful, and this one skipped a year, so he's not weak."

Neither Mio nor Yuna were able to come up with a quick enough reply. They just looked at you, and each other, opening and closing their mouths like stupid fish. Relishing the silence, you ate the last bite from your bento box, and threw it back into your bag.

When you looked back at your friends, their eyes were back on Itachi. You rolled your eyes, finally sparing Itachi a glance as you as you asked, "What can he be doing that is so... interesting."

Well, he was staring at you. 

Your group, at least, you figured. Staring-staring, blatantly. His dinner-plate-sized, pitch black eyes stood so starkly against the pristine whites of his eyes and the pale glow of his face. You'd never seen such large eyes before in your life.

It scared the daylight out of you.

"What a creep!" You exclaimed, pulling at your bag over your shoulder and running back into the Academy building, right into Daikoku-Sensei's classroom to hide. He was your favourite instructor, and you were, by far, his favourite student.

Surely, Daikoku would protect your peace and let you spend a little while in his classroom before class.

He greeted you quite jovially, halfway through his own lunch and grading papers. Daikoku let you pull up a chair to his desk, just listening to you yammer about the most trivial things in the world as he marked the pages before him with a red pen.

However, your peace was disturbed again, too soon after it was restored. A knock came and Daikoku called them to enter.

"What a pleasant surprise! My two most gifted students, come to visit," your sensei said warmly once the door opened. 

Intrigued, and a little jealous, you turned your head. Ugh. 

"Come, pull up a chair, we weren't talking about anything important."

"I was just leaving actually," you interjected, collecting your bag from the floor beside you.

But, of course, Daikoku knew you were lying. He chuckled, "No, you were about to tell me about making a new dye for-"

"No, I wasn't," you snipped, standing up quickly. Despite him standing behind you, you could feel Itachi's eyes on you, trying to strip you down to your bare soul.

"Where can you possibly need to go, ten- nine minutes before my class starts?"

Itachi's eyes tickled your skin, searing through. But you kept your calm, trying still to not be rude. You just stammered, "Er... the- the library. I, er, have an over-due book, that I have to, y'know, give back."

Tucking your bag close to your body, you breezed past Itachi, who let you go without a word. You tried not to look at his eyes, having heard the horror stories, but they were just so big, and they were glued to you. Wide and unmoving, as if he were restraining himself greatly, and waging an internal battle.

He freaked you out.

To your core, Itachi unnerved you. Like all of the Uchiha.

It was bad enough that he had been moved up to your year because of his accomplishments, but you never had to interact with him before. You still hadn't, not properly, and, as you scurried away from Daikoku's classroom, you noticed that you were shaking like a leaf. 

The unease travelled to your stomach, and made your mouth fill with saliva.

As quickly as your legs would carry you, you ran down the hall and out the back doors of the school.

You were just in time, kneeling into a bush and pulling your hair back, just as you began to throw up. Hot tears welled into your eyes, but you didn't make a sound as you gagged.

You could hear the doors swinging open again as you heaved into the bush, but you were far too occupied to care.

"Cor lummy - I didn't know you hated me this much."

Great. Yeah, perfect. Just what you wanted.

"Leave me al-" 

Another wave took over your body, cutting off your command and taking every bit of authority out of it.

Much to your dismay, at the time, Itachi came behind you. With fingertips as gentle as feathers, he collected the loose strands of your hair, bringing it back properly and sliding your impromptu ponytail out of your hand.

You wanted to swear at him, yell at him to stop touching your hair, but you couldn't - you just kept throwing up.

After another wave, Itachi's hand came to the center of your back. You could feel a warm tingle were his hand was, and it almost seemed to tingle at the only frequency that could stop the vibrations in your stomach.

"Are... are you okay?" He asked in a unbefittingly soft voice as he stroked small circles into your back.

"No, go away," you snapped, head still in the bush.

Itachi just stated, his hand stilling, "I'm not going to leave you... not if you're not okay."

Coming out of the bush, you sat on the pavement and looked up at Itachi as he stood from his crouch. Your hair fluttered back to your shoulders, feeling strangely warmed, and almost dirty. Your mother and father would have been incensed if they had seen what just happened, so you knew you had to be as well.

"Why?"

"Because," Itachi hummed as he sat in front of you. "I want to show you that I'm not rotten, or vile, or weak, or awful, or that one strange word you used."

"I... I didn't..." He was making it so hard to stay true to your parents' word. You felt guilty to have repeated it. "I know you're not weak."

"And I'm trying to show you I'm none of the other things either."

They said there wasn't a good Uchiha to ever touch grass, but here the good one sat before you. He may have just been trying to prove his worth, but he did, somewhat, no matter how forced his action could have been.

"Thanks," you finally said, still so unsure.

"Do you want to be friends?"

You were wildly taken aback, and your parents late-night tirades flashed through your mind. Scampering to your feet at the speed of sound, you took up your bag, not caring about the pin that fell off in your hasty movement.

In response to Itachi's kindness, you ran.

Back into the Academy you went, finding the nearest girls' washroom to camp. You stayed for fifteen minutes, making yourself late for Daikoku's class intentionally. 

When you arrived, you were woeful to find out that Itachi's wide-eyed stare had suddenly changed.

He glared at you now, and you wished for anything but. 

Itachi's sharp eyes ripped your skin off, just to examine the many layers at their own leisure. You felt as through he was piercing through your soul, cutting it like cloth, with his plain, black eyes alone. Quick as you came, you tried to leave.

"No, I have to-"

"Y/n, you just got here-"

As your sensei stood in front of the door, blocking your only exit, you dove for the trashcan beside him.

It was stupid to think that you had gotten whatever was bugging you out earlier, because it wasn't like you ate some bad clams. You had captured Uchiha Itachi's attention, and you were sick to your stomach.

Tossed in the gutter, you and your reputation became worthless. People used to like you, but once you became the Nervous Puker, people started to steer clear.

Whatever. It gave you a certain freedom you had never had before, not restricted to plans or anyone else's schedule.

The moniker was nasty in the first week of your naming, but you slowly stopped hearing it as people stopped talking to you. You assumed they probably still called you that, but you weren't bothered by it, because it was never staring you in the face.

Meandering the edge of the recess-yard, you stared out at the adults, ninja and civilians alike. They milled around, going about their business in various directions and ways. Some held cases, where others had bags strapped to their backs - the ones with the briefcases styled their hair much more nicely than the others, and you admired one blond man's perfect quaff as he walked past the Academy.

You couldn't wait to get out of the prison that was the Academy, and you forced yourself to make all the progress you could, as quickly as you could. The instructors loved you and gave you top marks, the work was simple, but that only supported your theory that the Academy was only stagnating you. Though, what use was a seven year old on the battlefield?

"Hey! NP!" One of the boys from your year called behind you, making you turn your head in acknowledgement. He laughed, "It's good to see you're used to your new name."

"It's just as good to see you're not eating," his friend commented, barely containing his laughter. "Don't want to put any fuel in the tank!"

Pursing your lips, you just nodded as they cried out with laughter, and turned your head back toward the passing people. Their taunts did little to bother you, so you weren't going to pay them any mind.

That was apparently the wrong thing to do, as a hand gripped your shoulder, throwing you around before you were pushed, back against the chain-link fence. The two boys jeered at you, both pinning your shoulders to the fence as it rattled with your attempts to move.

"Where are you trying to go? Feeling a bit nervous?" The blond boy snickered.

To add, his brunet friend sneered, "We'd better clear the splash zone."

Like a flash, your saviour appeared. You never got the chance to ask him what it was that spurred him to act, but you were always thankful for that decision of Itachi's.

"You two have nothing better to do?"

Their holds instantly relaxed as Itachi's eyes darted between them. You stared at him, confused, but undoubtedly grateful for his intervention. Anxiously, the two boys turned to Itachi. They were both taller than him, but Itachi's mere presence dwarfed them.

"We were just-"

"I don't care, stop bothering my friend."

Hey, you weren't going to poke a hole in that now. 

Itachi was saving you, scooping you up like the hand of a god, being the only person who could realistically stop the teasing, other than Father Time. 

When the wave swelled, you knew you had to ride it as far as it could take you. No gift-horses' mouths were getting looked into by you.

"Dude, you can't be serious," the brunet almost chuckled. "You, friends with the Nervy Puker? Puh-lease."

In an instant, Itachi's eyes swirled, turning from the, regularly unnerving, inky black to a bloody, Ruby red. The sickness came to your stomach immediately, and you looked away from the scene as best you could, scared in every respect.

"Call her that again at your own personal risk."

Yeah, you were going to throw up again. His voice... good, gracious Creator. You'd never heard such a sternness. Such authority. Especially not out of some six year old.

Because he wasn't some six year old. He was an Uchiha.

Just like it had a little over two weeks ago, your mouth began to fill with saliva. You swallowed it furiously, but the more you swallowed, the more came up. Heat travelled through your body, carried by the deep vibrations that pained you dully. In your attempt to stop the feeling, you hadn't even noticed the two boys running off, nor Itachi's eyes returning to their normal hue.

"Look at me."

You swallowed again and looked up. Itachi looked at you like he had a few weeks before, wide-eyed, as something you couldn't name flickered behind his pupils.

"We should go around back again, if you're feeling... unwell," he offered, voice restrained but still kind. Swallowing and clearing your throat, you shook your head, finding it hard to speak. To your surprise, Itachi came forward, stuttering, "I- er, the other day, when you... ran, I-I picked this up, for you. Y'know, so I could, like, give it back."

"Where did all your confidence go?" You teased, feeling greatly eased by his sudden nerves. You sank to the ground while leaning against the fence, arms wrapped around your stomach.

After looking at you strangely for a second, rifling through his pockets, Itachi let a small, straight-faced chuckle pass through him as he replied, "It seems to leave me when I speak to you."

"That's a real troublesome problem between friends."

Itachi's eyes lit up. "You... friends?"

"Isn't that what you said to Jiyuna?"

"Yeah," Itachi grinned, sitting next to you on the fence as he pulled your pin out of his pocket finally. "But... I thought... why'd you run, then?"

Without any good answer yet, you just shrugged and admitted, "You scare me."

As Itachi extended the pin to you, you held out your hand, and he pressed it right into the center, letting his touch linger. His eyes twinkled in a way that somewhat invited you, and his smile wasn't obnoxious or arrogant. Your parents were wrong, you realized then. You also realized you had never seen Itachi smile before, not even a little.

"So, friend, comrade, associate," Itachi started happily, moving his hand to point at the pin in yours. "Tell me about The Ballads of the Green Cloth, and convince me to get a matching pin."

From that day, onward, you and Itachi were as thick as thieves. The people who stopped talking to you tried to start again, attempting to get into Itachi's Good Books through you. It didn't work. Itachi hated them to an extreme, and the people who had actively teased you, even more. He steered you away from all of them, offering you some of the best company in the world; himself, alone.

After every school day, Itachi began to invite you places. He would take you to the library, to his favourite spot on the creek, to the confectionary just off the main road. With your parents under the impression that you were attending extracurricular classes, you had two or three hours every day to spend with Itachi, completely unadulterated.

Gradually, over a year of spending the afternoons together, you and Itachi had built a steady rotation of places to go. The cycle started at the confectionary, with another nine places on the roster regularly (ten in the Summer). It wasn't set in stone, but you quickly came to find out that Itachi only ran on schedules.

"It's pissing down rain right now, Itachi," you pointed out, motioning to the massive window beside you, that the two of you sat on the ledge of. "Let's just stay in the library today, the creek will be flooded."

"It's creek day, though," Itachi countered.

You groaned, pressing your forehead to the cold glass, "I know, but it's not the day to go to the creek."

"What are you talking about? Yes, it is, we went to the stationary store yesterday."

"I've been meaning to ask you about that; why do we keep going there if you never buy anything? My pen purchases can only support us for so long - they're going to stop being to happy to see us."

"Why would I need to buy something, if you buy a pen every time?"

"My man! I buy the pens because you don't buy anything!"

Laughing lowly, Itachi took the honeysuckle juice that you had made in your kunoichi class that day from your hand and sipped it greedily. You grumbled something about how absolutely gluttonous he was, which only made Itachi laugh louder. The sound of his laughter hit your ear very kindly, cracking your resolve, and making you smile almost instantly. You bit it back, snatching the half-full container from him.

"You are so rich, and yet, you never pay for your own stuff."

"Well, duh, how else do you think I stay rich?" Itachi joked, laughter calming, developing a blush. You giggled, but his face got a bit serious, and he captured your eyes. Gently, a tad regretfully, Itachi asked, "Should I... should I be... paying for you? Like, your stuff?"

For some reason, his tone spoke to your heart, setting it ablaze. Your breath caught in your throat, feeling a tight pinch in the center of your chest. Goosebumps rose on your skin, cascading down your spine, and back, up, all the way up to the top of your head. A chill settled just underneath your skin, destined to never be warmed, save by one thing.

Perhaps it was the cold glass beside you, withstanding a particularly strong sheet of rain.

"No," you whispered. 

Blinking a few times, the tension was cut, and you repeated, shaking your head and looking out the window, 

"No, no. You shouldn't." Swallowing thickly, you chuckled, "You're younger than me anyway, I have more birthday money saved."

"Pretty girls like you shouldn't ever pay for themselves - Itachi, you idiot."

If it weren't for the slight shred to the other's voice, you would have thought Itachi had spoken.

But the voice was inherently not Itachi's, the melody was missing; the colloquialism replaced by a certain type of suave charm.

Your suspicions were confirmed as you looked at the window's glass and saw the reflection of someone on the ground. He was looking up, between you and Itachi, as your friend motioned to him, trying to be discreet. Making you feel even more confident in your deduction, the standing boy looked extremely similar to Itachi. His nose, and general facial shape, seemed a bit rounder, more soft than Itachi, with much shorter hair. And he definitely looked older.

It dawned on you that you were in the presence of another Uchiha, and the fear bloomed within you - it was quickly squashed by a heavy-set guilt for feeling that fear at all.

The guilt just made your stomach feel even worse.

It was as if your mind was on open display to Itachi as he immediately uncrossed his legs, coming closer and putting a hand on your knee as he hissed at the other boy, "Shisui, go away, now. I'll see you later."

"Why? What's wrong?" He, Shisui, asked, sounding so genuinely concerned that it just made you feel guiltier.

"Nothing. Bye. Go away."

"No, not if she's not okay."

Through the window, you watched the reflection of Itachi carrying out a silent fight with Shisui.

You just closed your eyes.

You were mortified. Itachi was so kind, and, here you were, getting all frightened over one of his family members, and then being the cause of his rudeness. If it was his father, you might have been justified in your fear, but another kid? Get serious.

"Look at me."

You did, remarking Itachi's eyes gleaming in the honey-shaded light of the library. A warm comfort overpowered all of your other emotions, wrapping you up tightly. It brought air to your lungs, in a deeper breath that you maintain to have ever been your deepest.

Itachi smiled gently, taking your hand into his and finding the perfect middle of your wrist. He rubbed small firm circles onto the pressure point.

"Do you want to go get an ice-pop, or something?"

"Popsicle," you corrected with a breath.

Chuckling lowly, Itachi nodded, "Whatever. Let's get one."

"Sounds tasty, can I come?" Shisui interrupted.

You froze at the other boy's voice and took a deep breath as Itachi gauged your reaction briefly. Immediately, he geared up to send Shisui on a long walk of a short pier. But, when you looked at Shisui, the words seemed to die on Itachi's tongue.

Nodding slowly, you found you couldn't speak. Well, you probably could have, but it would have sounded like a croak, and you didn't want that.

To your surprise, Shisui smiled broadly. Extending his hand to you, like Itachi always did to help you off of the ledge, Shisui beamed, "Great. I know a lovely, little place to get some really good fruit ice-po-psicles."

"We have our own designated spot, thank you very much," Itachi replied for you, smacking away Shisui's hand just before you were ready to take it.

He jumped off the ledge and extended his hand to you, providing a much more usual sight. You smiled as you took Itachi's hand, jumping close to him as he put his hand around your back as a precaution. Leaning close to Itachi's ear, you brushed his long hair back with your index finger as you whispered, "Maybe we should go to his place, so we don't disrupt the sanctitude of ours."

Gritting his teeth, Itachi leaned into your ear and whispered back, "I don't want him to come at all."

"Why?" You asked in a hush, lips brushing Itachi's ear again.

Dramatically sighing, Itachi bent his knees back and looked at you with narrowed eyes before leaning back into your ear to whisper, "You're going to like him more than me."

"Not very likely, but let's see," you giggled, not bothering to lower your voice. You looked to Shisui behind Itachi's shoulder, and he grinned at you, obviously feeling left out. Gathering up your courage, on Itachi's good word, you finally said to Shisui, "Itachi never mentioned an older brother."

"Ugh, are you calling me ugly, Ms. Nervy?" Shisui joked.

The nickname made your eye twitch, but that was nothing compared to the force Itachi turned around with, turning you with him.

"Don't you dare-"

"Shhh," you hushed, hoping to put Itachi off being even ruder to his uninformed family member.

"We're in the back of the library, and it's a Tuesday," Itachi snapped at you, before setting his fiery gaze back on Shisui who you couldn't see. Resuming a threatening tone, though even lower, thus quieter, Itachi hissed, "If you call her anything like that again, you and I are going to have a bigger issue than you can even fathom."

Sounding taken aback, Shisui said to you, as sweetly as his raspy voice would allow, "My deepest apologies, I should have known your guard dog can't take a joke."

"You know what-"

"Hey," you said gently, letting go of Itachi's hand. His hand on your back lingered a moment longer, but dropped as you approached Shisui. You smiled up at the older boy, remarking how sweetly his eyes shone, giggling lightly as you said, "You're a lot taller than I thought you were, up on the ledge."

"I suppose it's all about perspective, darling," he hummed, that suave voice from before returning. Flickering his eyes to Itachi behind you, Shisui chortled, "Is that one okay, or are you going to threaten me?"

You thought it was more than okay. No one had ever called you darling, except for your mother. Especially not so... lovingly? Of course, Itachi felt a different way. Coming from behind, Itachi tugged at your waist to get to you move around Shisui. You did and Itachi followed you, Shisui folding in behind him.

Once your group made it outside, you were left to your own umbrella, while the boys shared Itachi's. Apparently, Shisui wasn't much for planning.

As the two debated between where to go to get a popsicle, you let yourself get used to Shisui's voice. You quickly discovered they were cousins, but were much closer than any set you had ever seen. Shisui was a year older than you, and two years older than Itachi, which made you wonder if Itachi's voice would soon turn to be like Shisui's on day. Truly, his cadence lacked all the melody that Itachi's had a surplus of. Shisui spoke more loosely, and never went very long without a joke or a little quip. Even their scents were markedly different, as Itachi smelled like herbs and spices, whereas Shisui smelled of harsh soap. You came to know Itachi to be a member of the main family, while Shisui was a part of the branch family.

"Together, or separate?" The shopkeeper of Shisui's spot asked as the three of you put your chosen popsicles on the counter.

"Together," Shisui said quickly, getting out his wallet. 

Itachi noticed, and got out his wallet as well, readying himself to beat Shisui to the money dish. Within your pocket, you collected 70 yen from your own wallet.

"That'll come up to..." The shopkeeper started, typing on his dated machine as it clicked and zipped. "68 yen."

You were first.

Smiling, oh, so very smugly, you looked at the boys as the shopkeeper took your bills from the dish with a soft chuckle.

"You two," he said, pointing at Shisui and Itachi as he gave you your change. "Ought to be paying for this sweetheart."

"Yeah," Shisui said pointedly, capturing your eyes before his smile returned. "If this sweetheart would let us pay for her, that is."

"I hear you, brother," the shopkeeper grinned, pushing the popsicles at you. The three of you took them up as the shopkeeper continued, "I've got a feisty one, too, back at home. They make the most wonderful wives, if either of you ever prove so lucky."

"They won't!" You exclaimed with a bubbly laugh, feeling embarrassed.

Maybe the shopkeeper would cause Itachi to recognize the signs of infatuation you displayed, and then he wouldn't want to be your friend anymore, and nothing scared you more. Not even your previous conceptions about the Uchiha.

"Oh, yeah?" The shopkeeper challenged you.

"Mhm."

The boys were strangely quiet, just staring at you. Maybe that was them seeing through your lie, so you decided to add,

"Honest! I like blonds."

"Blonds, hm?" He asked. You nodded with a soft smile on your face, praying that Itachi couldn't see through it. As if a test, the shopkeeper told you, "My son's a blond. Golden blond."

"Get me in contact with him," you laughed.

Before you could continue to dig yourself into the hole of your creation, Itachi put his hand on your shoulder, squeezing, though not strongly enough to hurt. You looked to him, and were met with that god-forsaken, wide-eyed stare.

Itachi needed to only look at you for a second before he kissed his teeth and relaxed his eyes, throwing his arm over you as he guided you out of the shop. Shisui gave the shopkeeper his thanks for the sale, and darted in front of you and Itachi, holding the door open for the two of you to squeeze through.

"Thank you," you and Itachi chorused in mumbles at the same time, before looking at each other and dissolving into a short laugh.

As you undid your umbrella, Itachi gave his umbrella to Shisui, staying by your side. The three of you began to walk slowly, down one of the back roads, Shisui with his own umbrella, you and Itachi sharing. You held it steadily for the two of you, only flopping a bit with the bounce of footsteps.

"I would dye my hair, if you would like it more," he asserted once at a comfortable pace, holding his popsicle to his chest to pop it out of the wrapping. Itachi moved to hold the stick as you took the end of his wrapping, holding it as he pulled it out. He looked at the cherry popsicle and gestured, asking, "Does it need to be blond, or can I do something cool, like red?"

Blushing, and leaning into his arm, you ducked your head down and laughed, "Platinum blond."

"I would look terrible, but if it's what you like..." Itachi replied, helping you with the wrapping of your popsicle before opening his palm for his wrapper in your hand. You gave it to him, and he shoved the wrappers in his pocket, giving you a smile as they crinkled.

Sighing contently, you and Itachi began to eat the popsicles. Your steps synchronized, and soon the bounces of your shoulders did as well.

"You two are cute," Shisui murmured behind you.  Itachi's head swiveled sharply and the elder cousin snickered, "I rescind that; one of you."

"Oh, you're such a charmer, Shisui," Itachi derided. He was, you thought. But leave it to Itachi to know what you were thinking. Shaking your shoulder a bit, Itachi leaned into your ear and whispered, "Don't fall victim, I'm your friend."

"You're my best friend, Itachi," you said loudly, grinning ear to ear as you swapped your popsicle for his. You licked his and he licked yours, and you both hummed,

"I like yours better."

Laughing again, you both shrugged and continued eating the other's popsicle. Shisui, no doubt feeling a bit left out again, came up beside you on the street and you angled yourself toward him, though Itachi's arm remained on your shoulders. You looked at Shisui as he gave Itachi a very playfully taunting look.

"This is what you two do?" He asked, making Itachi quirk his brow. Shisui motioned at his own popsicle, then the rainy day. "Get treats, and flirt, while walking around?"

Caught, your face screwed up. You didn't know where the line of obvious flirting was, and Shisui could tell you were interested in Itachi... so why couldn't Itachi?

"We're not flirting!" Itachi exclaimed, defended himself, his honour, his family's honour- "Yuck, don't say stuff like that, Shisui, that's so gross."

Oh. Okay. 

You distinctly remembered that pain for the rest of your life. It was like a knife, impossibly sharp, and quite unforgiving. 

For a year and change, you'd been using your small crush on Itachi to help with that overwhelming fear - you convinced yourself that he could have a crush on you too, and if that were true, then he really wouldn't hurt you. You would be safe.

But he didn't. Obviously, he didn't. Why would he?

Cripes, you didn't even feel like throwing up. Just crying.

"Hey," you mumbled, drawing Itachi's attention like a magnet. You looked at him, biting your tongue, as he looked at you with a tentative smile, worry in his eyes. Worry about what? Shaking your head, you got a grip, and half-smiled as you said, "I have to go."

"What?" He asked, smile dropping.

"Mum's making a nice dinner, so I have to go help," you explained, not exactly lying. Itachi nodded, opening his mouth to say something, but closed it just as soon. He moved to join Shisui's umbrella, and you grinned to the older cousin, "It was lovely to meet you, Shisui."

"And you, as well," he hummed. Shisui's smile was broad as he winked, "I hope we meet again, maybe do some flirting of our own."

In response to Shisui's kindness, you nodded, and ran away.

[chiefcroissantdeanbanana]

[SPOILERS] A Date with Death - Beyond the Bet Ending 9 "Analysis"

"Analysis" because I do not trust my skills enough for this and don't think what I am doing is an analysis, anyways, BTB (Beyond the Bet) ending 9 (Metamorphosis) spoilers.

DISCLAIMER!! all the things I'm going to say is in my opinion!! I do not claim this as canon or real to the game, just me word-spewing my thoughts! thank you! (also forgive me if this is incoherent this is my first time)

The main theme of Metamorphosis, just from the title itself is change. The indicator that you get metamorphosis is when MC (you) dream about fire. Fire symbolizes rebirth, transformation and renewal, and passion and desire, (+ many more but these relate to Casper in many ways, so I just said those three). Casper and change at first seem like they don't go together, him being adamant on the whole 'I am a Grim Reaper' thing and refusing to acknowledge his own feelings at first makes it hard for him to even realize that he IS changing, slowly but surely the 'soul sickness' he gets around MC taints him, until he can't deny that he has been infected with the disease of being a human.

The thing is, while being with MC, Casper realizes that he WANTS to change, he WANTS to be a human too, he wants to be fleeting, to be memorable, to be anything but frozen, unmoving, unchanging, the same. But he can't have that, because his system doesn't allow for Grim Reapers to 'change'. They must be what they are created and will stay like that for the end of time, or until they meet their time.

In a conversation that I forgot what day happened in, Casper mentioned how his heart was ice cold due to the countless deaths he had to carry, and how he became numb to it all, until MC came along. MC quite literally melted his frozen heart (which is so sweet, they're literally meant for each other; they're soulmates in a way which also makes the bad endings hurt even more). Without MC, Casper wouldn't even THINK and DO change, he was made to be loyal and not question the system, the organization he works in. It limits him, whether he wants to accept it or not. This path will never lead him to any good, which is why Ending 9 is so sweet.

He changed! He managed to change, with the help of MC!! And now they'll help other people change too!! LIKE??? Isn't that just so??? NICE?? KIND???? Instead of running away, instead of leaving the grim reapers alone, they helped. Because they don't want others to be like this too; they want others to realize who their true selves are, to love without it being bad, and for their love to not be violent, dangerous, and forbidden. They experienced that so now they can help others to be free from that pain, they literally broke the cycle hadjahkjs I love them<33

(+ A section I couldn't fit in the 'analysis' because it wouldn't fit anywhere, [SPOILERS] about Casper: Casper was deprived of the privilege to change, and yet he still overcame that hurdle and managed to change, no matter how much he disliked it, because deep down he is human, nothing could ever change that, not even the very system that forced him to be like that. Because that is what being a human is, to defy expectations, to overcome challenges, to grow, to change, and to feel.)

I. What the this got so long I'm so sorry helppp hsjjshf so anyways I HATE Casper from a date with death like who even likes that guy am I right gang haha pls take me back I'm so nonchalant about him...

[percyweasleyapologist]

Headcanons for Percy x Penny x Oliver

Drop those headcanons

💥👊👊

AHHHH OKAYY!!

The relationship started bc Penny and Okiver both liked Percy, but hated each other. Eventually Percy got tired of them bickering and fighting and locked them in the dorm and told them they could come out once they worked it out. Anyways, they ended up fucking, then had a productive talk and realized they liked each other as well🤷‍♀️

Penny has basically moved into their dorm bc it's just Percy and Oliver who share it.

Adding onto that, Percy and Oliver pushed their beds together to make one big one that they all fit into.

Ginny walked in on Percy and Penelope and Percy told her not to tell anyone (that's canon), but he forgot to tell her they were also dating Oliver so when she sees Percy and Oliver making out she has a whole existential crisis. She really wants to tell Pen but is torn between that and her loyalty to her brother. Eventually she seas Penny and Oliver together and so she goes to Percy and just breaks down. Percy has to then explain polyamory to her.

Study sessions! Lots of them. They're all good at different things so with that combined they have someone who knows a bunch in almost every subject.

Percy and Penny cheer the loudest at quidditch games, but for different teams. Percy always roots for Gryffindor but Penny will root for whatever team is going against Oliver just to annoy him (She secretly wants Oliver to win (except if it's against Ravenclaw) and she will absolutely comfort him if they lose).

They love listening to each other passionately talk about things, they'll sit and gossip for HOURS

Oliver and Pen are usually the ones who make the others do the most dangerous stuff (they get Percy to sneak out way more time that he'd ever admit)

Also related to that, Pen and Oliver single-handled give Percy at least 4 grey hairs before he's 17.

They're also the only one who know how to comfort him and calm him down

They'll all sit together just reading, or doing homework, or working on plays, or whatever, as long as they're near each other, they can do it for hours.

Penny tops both of them

Very touchy, Percy pretends to hate it but secretly loves it. They'll just lay on the bed or something forever just talking.

They got together in the middle of fifth year

Okay, that's all i have for now! I know that I have so many others but I can't remember themmmm😭

Also i'm so sorry for answering this late, I had a bunch going on, pls don't jump me😙🫶🏻

Feel free to send me more of these! I love answering them!!!! You can also send ship opinion template things (i hope you know what im talking about, idrk how to describe it sorry! if not look on my blog, i think i got some asks with it)

Anyways, please send me more asks!!! 😁🩷

[slay00ryu]

Save The Angel's Queen. - Thernin.

Summary: Ther x Ronin Fake Dating AU! Ther needs to escape their fate of marrying Craig, they ask Ave and Casia for help. Why the hell would they recommend Ave's brother who is Ther's biggest enemy? Who knows. But they are desperate enough to take that chance. And Ronin? Oh. Ronin just wants to cure his boredom.

Trigger Warnings: Craig fucking Doughton, slight spoilers for gluttony gods, murder (blood and slight gore), swearing.

No Ther died in making of this fic <3

Ther was sitting in their room, face hid in their hands after what they just heard.

"You will marry Craig sweetie, he's such a nice young man." Their mother's words still rang in their mind, loud and painful.

Why? Why them? Why now? Why did no one see how Craig truly was? How he used girls, abused them, sometimes drugged them. Why did no one see that?

They felt disgusted, disgusted and afraid. It was one of the rare times when Ther Estridge, the ice cold queen, was actually afraid. They felt hopeless, they couldn't use anything as a way to escape Craig, nothing would change their parents' opinion, well unless Ther showed up with a boyfriend, but choosing one that wasn't a blind fool following the jock was a taught challenge.

They picked up their phone and entered a group chat with their two friends; Ave Beaufort and Casia Auclair.

the angels™ (Ther, Ave, Casia)

angelqueenreigning: fuck This Shit my parents want to Set Me Up with doughton. . .

dumbfuckdeviant: WHAT oh hell no not with that motherfucker

sunshinefencing: oh this is bad pls ther help ave is so pissed rn

dumbfuckdeviant: for fucks sake okay OKAY i have an idea!

sunshinefencing: a really stupid idea at that . . .

dumbfuckdeviant: STFU we need to save the angel queen i didn't spend weeks on these stupid voting banners for them to end up with that asshole

angelqueenreigning: so what's That Geniusly-Bad idea?

dumbfuckdeviant: date that asshole

sunshinefencing: ^ she means ronin

angelqueenreigning: ronin As In your own brother ava? the same beaufort That Hates my guts?

dumbfuckdeviant: yeah unless you have better ideas ethy

sunshinefencing: i think that you should try it out having a boyfriend will make the marriage impossible your parents wouldn't like to look bad by breaking your heart

angelqueenreigning: it will ruin my Prom Queen Campaign but sure i'll Talk To Him

Now, Ther is sitting on a swing not too far from their house. Even in a lazy outfit, with no make up and seated on a swing, Ther still looked like a true stone cold queen, true queen of Angelwood.

They didn't have to wait long, a creak coming from the other swing announced Ronin joining them.

"So, a little birdie told me the ice queen is in need of a boyfriend." There was clear mock in his voice. What else did they expect anyway?

Ronin wasn't their biggest fan, he wasn't foaming over them like the rest of Angelwood did, he glared at them more than he looked at them with admiration. Ava said that Ther should just ignore him, so they did, at least until now.

"Unfortunately. Ave said that you'd be good and willing for that." They replied, crossing their arms over their chest with a stern expression.

Don't show your weakness, don't show how desperate you actually are.

They had to remind themselves. They couldn't just break the character they were building up their whole life in front of one guy who could potentially save them.

Ronin didn't say anything for a second, he just looked deeply into their eyes. It was one of the stares that'd make people uncomfortable with how it felt like he was plainly reading them.

"Hah, fuck yeah, I can indulge you. Anything to see that bastard Craig shut his mouth." His response surprised them, they never mentioned Craig then how did he know? "Oh right, he talks about your little engagement, how you'd be his or some other big powerful men bullshit."

That disgusted Ther. So Craig already made Ther a reward, something he claimed. They wanted to throw up at the thought, but they kept it together, somehow.

"So, do you even know what a boyfriend should act like?" Ther asked to change the topic.

They didn't trust Beaufort and his abilities to be anything but trouble. Their worries weren't baseless, Beaufort really did his best when it came to be a troublemaker, getting in fights, sitting in detention, he almost got suspended once. Yet, these things also made him the perfect fake boyfriend for them, Craig wouldn't try to fight with him, no one even thought about fighting Beaufort if they valued their life.

"Oh don't worry your little head with that darling, I can be a picture perfect boyfriend, just wait and see." His response caused Ther to scoff.

"I hope you're not just full of yourself. Oh wait, you're only able to be oh so confident." Ther said with a sarcastically sweet smile. Oh that relationship would be full of bickering behind closed doors, that's for sure.

Ronin clicked his tongue. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say your highness. What's your plan?" He finally asked the most important question.

"Well." Ther started, now looking at him with a completely serious face. "We should behave like a couple would, go out on dates, spend time together, shit like that. We need the whole town to believe our lie."

"So, hugs, kisses and all that sappy bullshit? That's boring, but seeing your displeased face whenever you'd have to deal with me is worth it." He chuckled and stood up from the swing.

Ther rolled their eyes, their gaze never leaving Ronin, they watched his movements very carefully.

"I have to introduce you to my parents, as my boyfriend you have to meet them at least once." That caused Ronin to stop in his tracks.

"Hah, so I will meet the Estridges officially now? Well, that'll be interesting."

"Yeah... And wear something different, you look like a rat." Ther's eyes stopped at Ronin's hair, it really looked like a mop, or a birds nest at best.

"Oh? And here I thought you would love your dear boyfriend no matter what." Beaufort laughed mockingly. "I'll see what I can do doll." He said and looked directly into their eyes. "So, see ya tomorrow Estridge, my love."

His farewell, followed by mocking laughter, Ronin walked away, leaving Ther alone with their thoughts.

They weren't even sure if it was a good idea, but anyone would be better than Craig, even someone like Beaufort.

They could only pray that Ave and Casia were right about their parents leaving dropping the marriage...

The Lovers (Ther and Ronin)

IceQueen: beaufort where The Fuck are you??? my Parents are Waiting for you

Ther typed the messages out angrily. Nerves, frustration and stress turning them into a wreck. Ronin was late, maybe it were just three minutes, but Mr. and Mrs. Estridge were getting more annoyed by every second the sudden guest Ther invited over wasn't showing up.

Suddenly a loud knock came form the front door, Ther rushed over and opened them. On the other side stood Ronin, his appearance neater than they ever seen before, black shirt instead of the regular rock bands t-shirts, hair actually brushed, without a beanie keeping them hidden, the only things that didn't really change were his pants and shoes, but Ther could live with that.

He even brought flowers, ones obviously bought a few seconds ago, and very cheap, but it's the effort that matters, right?

"Hey there, pretty princess." Ronin said, a cocky grin glued to his face.

Ther huffed in annoyance. "Just shut up and come in, I want to get this over with." They whispered to him and took his hand so he would have to follow them.

The two of them entered the living room, Ther's parents looked at them, their eyes narrowing when they recognised who was the guy holding their precious child's hand. Ther could practically hear their thoughts; what is this hooligan doing here?

Luckily, they left their thoughts to themselves.

"Mom, dad." Ther started, smiling at their parents, smiling through gritted teeth. "This is Ronin Beaufort, my boyfriend." They let go of his hand.

Ronin didn't give Ther's parents time to react, he immediately walked up to their mother and took her hand in his, placing a small kiss on the back of her hand, it was a mocking gesture if anyone looked closely at Ronin's body language and eyes.

"Good evening mrs. Estridge, I can see where is Ethy's beauty coming from." He said, like a good guy would to please his partner's mother. He straightened himself and gave her the flower bouquet. He saw how the woman forced a smile to her lips when she accepted the flowers.

Then he approached the father, he shook his hand. "It's nice to meet you mr. Estridge, I promise to take a good care of your daughter." What a confident bastard Ronin Beaufort was.

Ther watched the scene in front of them unfold in awe, they never seen anyone so relaxed in their parents' presence.

Soon Ronin stood next to them again, taking their hand in his. He really played the role quite nicely.

Finally their parents somehow broke their shock, looking at each other and then back at the teenagers in front of them, their thoughts clear in their gazes. They were confused, and angry, but refused to show it.

"Oh Ronin Beaufort? You seem like a really nice boy, I suppose the rumours about you were wrong then?" Ther's mother said. She tried to bring Ronin down by calling out his negative reputation, but she didn't know that she was talking with the master of manipulation and deception.

"Oh, unfortunately, it's all true, but my Ethy makes me a better man, I want to stop using violence thanks to her." Lie. And what a lie it was!

It was obvious that Beaufort would never change, not for the better at least. But somehow Ther's mother was either that stupid, or extremely hopeful, because she didn't ask any more question.

Ther's father was much quieter than Ther had expected, but they were sure that they would have a whole argument going on after Ronin leaves their house.

For now, they could only take him to their room with them and try to ignore the tension in their house.

"So, how was my performance?" Ronin asked, sitting down on Ther's bed like he's the ruler of their bedroom.

Ther sighed heavily, sitting next to him, leaving some space in between. "You did better than I thought, we'll see how good you'll do with more people around."

"Oh? So you already want to show me off around school huh?" Ronin and his never leaving shit eating grin were getting on Ther's nerves, but they had to keep themselves at bay.

"Yes. I need Craig to see that he has no way to get his hands on me." Anger and disgust was taking them over whenever the jock was on their mind, they just wanted to... no Ther, that's a crazy thought, you shouldn't think like that.

"Awh don't worry, I'll make sure that bastard never looks at you again." There was something sinister in Ronin's eyes, something dangerous. Ther didn't give it much thought, it was probably just some edgy guy shit that he shown everyone.

"Yeah, no shit." They mumbled in answer, a little too scared of the conversation with their parents.

This was the day.

The day where the whole school would see that Estridge and Beaufort are in fact together. Ther was standing in front of their locker, fixing their lipstick to keep their attention on something else than the thoughts of how tarnished their reputation would become.

"Hey there, darling."

A whisper reached their ear. Someone threw a leather jacket over their shoulders and leaned on the lockers next to theirs.

With a smile as sweet as ever they turned to look at Ronin.

"Oh hi Ro, thank you for the jacket, I was cold." They said, putting the jacket on properly.

They felt everyone's eyes on them, whispers from shocked students filling the hallways. Ther had to grit their teeth so they would ignore every little sound reaching their ears.

Ronin scoffed, putting his arm around Ther's shoulder. "Ready to make the fools covet under your feet, prom queen?" He whispered into their ear.

His words boosted Ther's confidence somehow, reaching some part of their mind that told them that they are the true ruler of the school, that they deserve the throne.

They smirked, looking directly into the devil's eyes. "Yes, yes I am, love."

Lunch break was the moment they were confronted by Craig, he looked upset to say the least, he was ready to attack Ther, the only thing stopping him was probably Ronin's presence.

"So. You're dating the freak show huh?" Craig scoffed, spitting at the ground and crossing his arms over his chest. "I always knew you were a whore Estridge." His words were followed by his friends' laughter.

They clenched their hands into fists. Luckily, before they said something that could make their chances for being prom queen even smaller, Ronin stepped in.

"Whore huh? Never knew Ethy here was a mirror Craig. After all, you have such a big body count. Almost like a brothel, don't cha think?" He titled his head to the side, a mocking smirk pressed to his lips.

"You little-" Craig wanted to throw a punch, but his friends stopped him, whispering something about Beaufort being a crazy motherfucker. "Fuck it, take Estridge if you want, her body is the only thing good about her anyway." And with the last drop of spit reaching the ground, the jocks walked away.

"Damn, and I hoped I could break that bastard's neck." Ronin sighed in disappointment. "So, where to now love? Are ya hungry for some disgusting cafeteria food?" He turned to look ad Ther again.

"Have a better place for lunch in mind?" They asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Actually? Yeah. C'mon your highness, I'll take ya to heaven in hell, or how us mortals would call it, a cafe." Taking Ther's hand in his, Ronin went towards the school's exist.

the angels™ + devil loser (Ther, Ave, Casia, Ronin)

dumbfuckdeviant: ethy babe where the fuck are you two?

queenheadasshigh: your Brother Took me to a cafe a cafe i Never Heard Of Before

shoulderdevil: y'all don't know what's bearable in this town this cafe is the only reason i still didn't hang

dumbfuckdeviant: a cafe is the only reason i still don't have your room? fuck that place i hope it closes soon

shoulderdevil: wow sis you're so sweet yeah anyway idk where i'll bring y'all's ice queen back maybe never

sunshinefencing: please don't steal ethy

shoulderdevil: sure sure golden retriever kid i'll see

- - -

"So, how do ya like the coffee Ethy?" Ronin asked, putting his phone down and taking a piece of his apple pie on his fork.

"Not bad, doesn't taste cheap which makes the trip worth it, I suppose." They replied, finding it amusing how the edgy guy is s happy while he eats apple pie.

"Mhm, you probably expected a shabby place right?"

"More like a dark alley full of gore and limps splattered all over, although it would be too romantic for you." They said with a sarcastic smile.

In a way, Ronin's company gave Ther comfort, maybe it was how weird and unfiltered he was? How he wasn't scared to be who he was. He and his devil-may-care attitude were always making him so different amongst other student. Now, when Ther was supposed to spend more time with him, maybe they could feed off of his confidence, maybe it could make them feel better about their own dark secrets?

Time flew by. Days turned into week, weeks into months.

Ther and Ronin were together for four months now, the whole school feeding into their lie perfectly. This relationship actually worked wonders for Ther, at least when it came to their popularity. People loved them, they were in awe with how they "tamed" the bad boyish delinquent Beaufort.

Yet, something changed for Ther. They didn't want this relationship to be fake anymore, and they knew that Ronin wanted something more out of it too. It's just, none of them was able to speak about it. Maybe they're too stubborn for this, or maybe they thought that they didn't need to announce it being real. Hard to say, but none of them worried about this.

Ther had bigger worries, or a certain worry right in front of them.

"Estridge, we need to have a lil' chat." Craig said, he was alone, so was Ther.

"No Craig, I won't talk to you." They said, their eyes narrowed as they looked at him cautiously.

"Then I'll take your friend Casia for a chat, do ya think he would handle it? Your precious little lapdog."

"Leave Casia out of this." They said through gritted teeth.

"Great, you understand it. C'mon then Ethy, before your 'boyfriend' comes around." Craig pulled Ther towards the swings close to their house, the same swings Ther and Ronin plotted their relationship.

Were they afraid? Yeah. They were unarmed, alone with Craig who could do god knows what to them now.

The jock practically pushed Ther towards a tree, their back hitting it hard, they winced in pain.

"Finally Ethereality, you will be where you are meant to be, under me you little slut." Craig was truly disgusting. He licked his lower lip, pinned Ther to the tree, and he leaned in, his face barely inches from theirs.

And when Ther thought that it was the end for them...

"A-argh." Craig made a pained sound, something was sticking out of his opened chest, a crowbar. The weapon quickly pulled out, a wet sound as it slid out, blood dropped to the ground. "What... what the fuck." He practically breathed out, fear painted all over his face.

Craig fell to his knees, revealing who was behind him. Ronin.

Ronin fucking Beaufort. Bathed in the moon light, bloody crowbar in his hands and a sick, twisted smile on his face.

"Well, well, Doughton. Who would have thought you would try to steal my date." He crackled, crouching, the crowbar used as a cane now. "Sorry man, they're not your to toy with, nor is any other girl or afab person who you'd want to lay your disgusting hands on. And-" He paused, leaning in closer to Craig's face.

"Since you decided to lay your hands on my lover, you will pay for your sins, right here, right now." Ronin stood up, raising the crowbar. "Ther babe, move aside, or you'd dirty your dress."

Ther, a little in shock, and awe, moved aside.

"Wait! Ro...Ronin, we're buddies right- Stop! You fucking fa- ack.... stop, you disgusting psycho." Craig tried to scream, but the wound in his body made it hard.

Ronin rolled his eyes.

"Oh shut the fuck up already." And with one quick swing of his weapon, Craig's body was pushed onto the ground, his ribs breaking under the pressure of the hit. Ronin wanted to keep the jock's head perfect, it would be used as a statement piece.

Ther watched the scene unfold. They watched as the jock's body was smashed, crashed with the weapon. They felt so... in love. Ronin was making all this mess, and it was just for them. He even cared enough to tell them that he would make a mess. Their chest felt warm, their face was hot. And their mouth, oh the smile on them as twisted as the one their boyfriend was wearing.

This death.

This was like an offering, offering from Ronin to prove his forever undying love toward Ther.

Ronin, he was the devil ready to do anything to make his 'fake' lover's life easier.

And Ther.

Ther accepted this devotion and worship like the highest praise they could ever receive.

Their love truly was God.

Hiiiiiiiiiiiii time to advert!!!

Please please please

commission me to write something >o<

everything is pinned in masterlist and kofi is pinned i bio >w<

bye

[mumms-the-word]

Hello my lovely friend!

I've chosen a song from one of my favourite musicals for you!

Hopefully it sparks some inspiration (I love this song I think i't so much fun)

Enjoy! <3

HELLO MY LOVE this is very late but I had fun writing it, so I hope that you enjoy it <3

(fun fact for those who don't know, which is probably most people, I am an avid broadway nerd and I listened to Wicked like...ad nauseam in my middle school/high school days so the minute I saw the title I had this song immediately in my head, which was very fun. As soon as I ran a few of the lyrics in my head I knew exactly what I had to write)

Anyways without further ado, I gift you with (drumroll pls)...some more Blackstaff Librarian x Gale fic ;)

under the cut and also on ao3 now

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Loathing

Gale x Blackstaff Librarian

After their initial encounter on the librarian's first day at Blackstaff Academy, Gale and the librarian now have fairly low opinions of one another. They both decide to vent to their parents about the other person (as one does when they hate someone).

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“Gale, darling, so good of you to join us for tea! Let me have a look at you. We haven’t seen you in a tenday, you know.”

Gale smiled and bent to exchange a strong, rib-cracking hug with his mother, the inimitable Morena Dekarios. He kissed her cheek as a greeting before letting her take his face in her hands so she could scrutinize him.

“Forgive me, Mother, the academy has required much of my attention the last several days,” Gale said, as Morena pursed her lips as she studied him.

“Have they been working you too hard? You look peaky.”

“I’ve been telling him that for days, Mrs. Dekarios,” Tara said, padding into the room. “He simply refuses to take care of himself.”

“Tara,” he chided, giving her a look. He took his mother’s hands and pulled them away from his face, squeezing them briefly. “I feel fine, I assure you.”

“Hmm.” She clearly didn’t believe him, but she let it go for now. “Well if you insist. Come, come have a seat, I’ll have tea ready in a moment. I want to hear all about how things are going over at the Academy.”

Gale blew out a long breath as he followed his mother onto her balcony and took a seat at the table there. “Where to start? We have a new librarian, for one.”

“Oh? Not another tired old Candlekeep retiree is it?” 

“No. No, she’s…young. Nearer my age.” Gale tried to picture her in his mind’s eye, to try and guess her age, and then quickly decided against it. The less he thought about the librarian, the better. 

“Oh?” Morena‘s eyes brightened with interest at that little fact. “Hold that thought, darling, I want to hear everything.”

She disappeared back inside to fetch the tea things while Tara hopped up onto the cushions that were stacked in her seat. That place at the table had been her teatime spot practically since the day Gale first summoned her. Though the cushions and chairs had been replaced over time, they were always placed in the exact same spot, with the cushions stacked at just the right height for her to comfortably look over the table’s edge and indulge in a spot of tea. 

Gale leaned closer to her and lowered his voice. “You haven’t said a word to my mother about our new librarian, have you?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Dekarios,” Tara said, licking at her paws to clean them for teatime. “Why would I talk about librarians of all things to your mother?”

The answer didn’t exactly allay any of Gale’s suspicions, but he let it go as Morena returned with the tea tray all prepped, including a plate of Gale’s favorite sandwiches and a shallow bowl for Tara's tea. She poured them each a cup and insisted Gale eat something before finally settling in her chair and taking a sip of her own tea. 

“So,” she said, cradling her cup in her hands and leaning forward slightly, her eyes sparkling with interest. “Tell me all about this new librarian.”

“Well, for starters, she’s only been with us for a tenday and she’s already caused quite a…stir.” He frowned, recalling how she frog-marched him out of the library in front of a crowd of students and colleagues. “On her first day at the Academy she refused to let anyone into the library while she was ‘cataloguing’ and kicked out anyone who dared to enter. Ever since then things have only gotten worse.” 

“How so?”

“Well, she—she’s come up with this ridiculous new organization system for the books and it’s taken her days to rearrange everything. Now no one knows where to find anything and we’re all forced to ask her for assistance, which she seems to find exceedingly annoying.” 

Though perhaps it was only when he asked that she got annoyed. He ignored that thought for now.

“Her new system doesn’t make the slightest flicker of sense,” he complained. He should have left off two or three sentences ago, but he was getting worked up now, all warm under his collar. “It’s been a disaster. I’ve taken to hoarding books I need in my study just to keep track of them. Honestly, I don’t know what the Blackstaff was thinking, giving her the job—she has completely upended the entire academy with her little project to reorganize the library. She has delayed everyone’s studies in the process and she is maddeningly unhelpful if you ever try to talk to her. Most unprofessional, in my opinion. In fact, I think she is without a doubt the most infuriating woman I think I have ever met.”

“Oh dear, that does sound like a torment,” Morena said, though the way she smiled behind her next sip of tea suggested she was more amused than sympathetic. “How much are you forced to interact with her?”

“If I had my way it would be never,” Gale huffed. “But unfortunately the reorganization of the library has taken over her main office as well. Blackstaff Vajra has temporarily given her the empty study adjoining mine, so it is impossible to escape her entirely, now that we share a common room.”

“Roommates, is it?” Morena teased, smiling broadly. “I can’t recall the last time you were forced to share a room with anyone.”

“At Blackstaff? It must have been ages ago.”

He had shared camps and tavern rooms with his companions, back when he’d had an illithid tadpole in his brain and the entire world needed saving from a Netherbrain. But this was different.

After Gale returned to Blackstaff, he’d been given one of two empty studies clustered around a common room for use as his teaching office. But now Gale’s days of having both study and common room entirely to himself were over. Now, whenever he tried to enjoy a relaxing cup of tea or reinvigorate himself with a cup of coffee and a good book, she was there, passing through with arms full of books, her curls falling out of whatever hairstyle she had attempted to wrangle them into. Each and every time, she took one look at him behind her wire-framed glasses, glared, stuck her pert little nose up in the air, and stalked away. Before he could even so much as say hello or good evening.

Not that he wanted to, of course.

Any interest he had in her, any intrigue he might have felt, was quickly dissolving into pure and utter loathing. She was surly, rude, and waspish, she had no patience for simple conversation, and no care for the sheer amount of disruption she was causing across the entire Academy. Every time she saw him with a book in his hands, she glared. Every time they passed in the hallway, she glared. Every time he stepped into her chaotically catalogued library, she glared!

When he was fairly certain he hadn’t done anything reprehensible to her! She seemed to hate him simply for existing.

Her name was on everyone’s lips these days, to the point where he felt he couldn’t escape it. If she wasn’t there in front of him taunting him with her hazel-eyed glares, he was forced to hear of her while eating in the dining hall, trying to teach his classes, monitoring students during study hall, and even relaxing with his colleagues at the Yawning Portal. There was no escape from the Blackstaff Librarian. Not even in his own teaching study.

“And of course I’m expected to put up with it as the newest professor at the academy,” Gale finished, throwing up his hands, having related all of this to his mother as well. “Ridiculous.”

“Yes, dear, and it’s so good of you to martyr yourself by sharing rooms with her," Morena said, hiding another smile behind a sip of tea.

“What is that supposed to mean? And why are you smiling like that?” he asked, growing frustrated with her now too. The whole time he had complained, she continued to smile and chuckle and sit with her cheek leaning against her hand, a fond and amused look in her eyes.

“Oh, no reason.” Morena finished off her tea before lowering her cup back onto its saucer, that same smile still on her lips. She exchanged a subtle look with Tara, who gave a little amused squint of her eyes and then delicately pretended to be busy washing her face.

"You can't fool me so easily, Mother," he said. “What are you thinking?”

“Nothing much, darling. I am only thinking that I should like to invite her over for tea.” She leaned back in her chair, her hands folded comfortably over her middle, and let her gaze trail off in the vague direction of Blackstaff Academy. "She sounds like a young woman I should get to know."

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In her sparse new temporary office, a certain Blackstaff librarian crumpled up the letter she had been trying to write and tossed it to the side, letting the balled-up parchment join about a dozen other crumpled-up letters on the floor. She huffed to herself and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment to write on, dipping her quill back into the ink.

Dearest Papa, she began. She continued with inane lines about her health, the weather, and how much she appreciated Blackstaff Vajra for offering her the position as Chief Librarian of Blackstaff Academy, as she had done in every other letter she started. She was determined this time not to ruin it by mentioning a certain annoying professor with whom she had had too many interactions already.

But inevitably, as it had happened in the other dozen letters before this one, he elbowed his way into her writing, just the same way he had elbowed his way into her library.

Regrettably, she wrote, nowhere is perfect and I’ve found that quite a few of my colleagues here at the Academy can be more than a little trying on my nerves. There is one man in particular, a professor with whom I must now share a common room, who is absolutely, without a doubt, the most provoking, vexatious, exasperating man I think I’ve ever had the displeasure to speak with. He is careless and arrogant and swans about the place as though he and not dear Vajra were the Blackstaff! I cannot understand how he of all people has been accepted to teach here, beyond that everyone must be fawning over his renewed status as a Chosen of Mystra and hero of that nasty illithid business down south. As though we do not have enough Chosens and heroes! He is constantly in my way, hoards books like a dragon, and seems to intentionally put himself where I must see or speak with him even when I expressly wish to avoid him. If I have to spend one more day sharing a common room with this most infuriating man I may just go mad. Do you know, just the other day I caught him sprawled out along the sofa of the common room like a Calishite pasha, filthy boots on the table—

But here she stopped, glaring down at the page. She was being untruthful, if not unkind. She had not yet caught him in a state of such blatant disarray—yet. She stared at her letter, her mind taking her back to two days ago when she had come into the common room, hoping for some peace and quiet, only to find him there.

He’d been stretched along the sofa, that was true, but with his ankles hanging off the edge and crossed, the soles of his boots mercifully away from both sofa and table (though dangerously close). He’d been reading when she entered, one hand cradling the book on his chest and the other combing absently through his dark hair, his lips pursed faintly as he studied the text. The setting sun had been streaming in through the windows, giving his lightly tanned skin an all-over bronzed look, and when he’d looked up as she entered the light caught his dark eyes in such a way as to dust the deep, rich brown of his irises with a sprinkling of bright copper. 

He was handsome, she’d give him that, but it only made her dislike him more. Handsome men always had a sense of arrogance and pride about them and his reputation had more than preceded him in that regard. Of course, it didn’t help that when he looked up, he’d instantly sat up all surprised—and then he had the audacity to look disappointed.

Disappointed!

Oh, she hated him. Absolutely, utterly, completely loathed him. 

Him, with his stupid little Mystra earring, and his fussy way of styling his long hair, and the way he pursed his lips when he was deep in thought, and the careless way he held books sometimes, his fingers tucked between pages—

Gods, she was thinking about his hands now?

She sat back in her chair, glaring at her letter, her face flushed and her lips pressed in a thin line. And then, after a moment, she crumpled the letter up, the same as the others. She gathered all the failed letters into a metal wastebin and, with a snap of her fingers, promptly set them all alight. The soft crackling of the flames did little to cool her off, however. 

She’d just have to write her father a letter another day, when her mind wasn’t so wrapped up in all the things she hated about one Professor Gale Dekarios. For now, perhaps it was best to simply give up and go home.

And perhaps take a cold bath to cool her flustered nerves.

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