#but nothing that'd carry me through a conversation

[hattiestgal]

I assume! You are bilingual!

Nope!

[luvtonique]

Hot Take Time

Okay, I'm gonna make a hot take. I want y'all to understand that this is coming from a 34 year old man who draws furry porn for a living and has regularly interacted with well over a thousand customers in his life, as well as partaken in various online discussions, social media platform conversations, and I've been pseudo-canceled a few times, so there you go, now we know each other, run on sentence.

I need to get something off my chest and a lot of you (I'd very safely say over 95% of social media and people in the political system and even regular media) need to get this through your heads.

Here we go, ready? Say this out loud.

"Nobody is responsible for making you feel comfortable, except yourself."

That is something that people just don't seem to understand anymore. We're in this day-and-age of people doing everything in their power to convince other people to change how they act, change what they believe, change the words they can or can't use because they are "not comfortable" and they believe it will make the world a "better place" if other people adhere to a set of guidelines that these people have deemed are necessary for the comfort of the people setting the guidelines (at the expense, of course, of the comfort of the others who are being forced to walk on eggshells).

I don't know how so few of you have a basic moral of "Life isn't fair."

It isn't. Perfection is unattainable, and yet so many of you don't fucking shut the fuck up about how everyone "needs to act" or how other people need to "be better."

Shut the goddamn fuck up, holy shit.

Nobody needs to act different so that you can be comfortable, just fucking grow a spine, holy shit. I don't care WHAT they're doing. I don't care if they're transphobic, racist, sexist, misogynistic, LGBT activists, Trump supporters, Biden supporters, I literally do not give the slightest iota of a fuck. Do they make me uncomfortable? Of course they do. That's why I don't interact with them. For my own comfort I just don't. I do what makes me comfy, I eat pizza, I drink hot cocoa, I take a fucking nap, I take some painkillers for my joint pain, I do a weed gummy, I listen to music, I watch a movie, I sit outside and watch rain fall, I FUCKING RELAX.

I have rheumatoid arthritis and am in excruciating pain 24/7/365 and there is nothing I will ever be able to do about that. Do I complain about it? Sure I do. Do I appreciate it when people carry heavy things for me so I don't have to? Sure I do.

But do I stand there next to a heavy box waiting for someone else to pick it up and then go "EXCUSE ME. I HAVE ARTHRITIS. YOU SHOULD PICK THE BOX UP FOR ME. I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO TELL YOU TO PICK THE BOX UP" because I'm of some fucking delusion that everyone on earth has to cater to my disability?

FUCKING. NO.

You know why? Because I, unlike a fucking huge percentage of you all, understand that it is not everyone else's responsibility to cater to me and improve my level of comfort.

Especially if they're not getting paid to do that. If I were paying them, sure, that'd be fine. That's what maids are for, right? But they're not getting paid, and that's where it becomes a very bad thing.

Slavery.

But apparently y'all don't seem to understand that making people do special services or cater their behavior to you without any payment other than "not getting punished, canceled, attacked physically or screamed at" is literally textbook definition slavery. It is quite literally "Do this thing because I demanded it, and if you don't do it or if you do it in an unsatisfactory way, I will whip you."

Let's look at a hypothetical I made up myself.

Say there's a kid in school who, if they hear their name said out loud, attacks and bites the people who said that. There's been 15 incidents in a row, including two teachers being bit by this kid.

What's the solution?

Solution 1) Pull the kid out of school, contact their parents, suggest maybe therapy or putting them in special classes with a guardian of some sort, keep an eye on them, maybe they need to be medicated.

Solution 2) Tell the entire population of the school to stop saying the kid's name out loud and punish any kids who get bit because they broke the rule of catering to this psycho fucking bully.

How in the fuck do so many of you think Solution 2 is the correct solution? How the fuck do you think forcing 8 billion people to adhere to your specific demands via mass manipulation and forced control without any compensation other than "I won't bite you" is the correct course of action?

I have met people that literally their opening sentence is telling me how to talk to them and what things not to talk about around them, and when I asked "Why can't I talk about <completely mundane thing>" they literally had a fucking mental breakdown and got me banned from the Discord server I was in that they contacted me from.

And so many of you, SO MANY OF YOU will act like that's completely reasonable for them to have done and will say I AM THE BAD GUY for "DELIBERATELY ATTACKING THEM WHEN THEY ASKED ME NOT TO."

Holy fucking shit.

If you are so fucking bad off, so unhinged, that you have complete full fledged mental breakdowns over hearing a fucking word or because you scrolled past a text post you disagreed with or because someone voted for a politician you don't like, I'm sorry to say this but you desperately need to get your fucking head checked because that is NOT. FUCKING. NORMAL. BEHAVIOR.

"But Jay, being 'normal' is a social construct that-" SHUT UP.

Care for your own self, improve your own comfort and be happy with "Good enough" like the rest of the fucking world has been learning to do for fucking years, you actual fucking sociopathic manipulative shitfucks.

Thank you for reading.

~Jay (who has been labeled a transphobe for breaking up with a trans girlfriend after 9 years of her lying to him, manipulating him, forcing him to become trans out of emotional abuse, forcing him to attack his own mother, forcing him to pay for her HRT for multiple years and forcing him to be in a poly relationship while not letting him meet the other girlfriends she was fucking regularly while never meeting him IRL a single time. Yeah guess I shoulda stayed with her, I'm the bad guy for not continuing to let her abuse me because her abusing me was "making her more comfortable in the relationship." Listen. I hate to break this to you. But if you act like this, or defend these people, you are a fucking psychopath and I no longer give a shit what you think about me. You are a bad person.)

PS: I usually get people asking, when I make posts like this, "Jay, did something happen?" because y'all assume every time I wanna make a post like this, I just got out of a fight with someone and needed to vent. The truth this time is that this has been boiling up for the last 12 years I've been here on Tumblr, seeing more and more and more of this fucking manipulative sociopath behavior becoming more and more commonplace and accepted and more and more people are scared to speak out against it because if just one of you fucking psychos can damage our reputation and get us fired from our workspace, imagine what thousands of you could do. Well, I'm done catering to y'all. If you are my friend, I will gladly act a certain way around you to make you comfy because I always strive to make my friends, family members, ect. as comfortable as possible.

But if I haven't met you and I'm expected to cater to your comfort zone's rules before even saying hi to you? I'm just noping the fuck out of there because you are a sick, twisted pervert with a fucking power fetish who is blind to how much of a manipulative shitwad you are.

PPS: I know, the assumption here is "Jay's gonna start saying the gamer word to poke the beehive now! He's looking for a fight!"

No, I literally am not. Why would I? I'm trying to live and be comfortable why the shit would I go out of my way to rile the psychos up? I'm gonna just hang out with my friends and family and fans who love me and continue being a respectful person towards people who are respectful in return, rather than go out of my way to find horrible scumbag people and attack them deliberately because I wanna start a fight or some shit. Why would I wanna be in a fight? Why would I wanna deliberately troll or rile people up? That makes me feel bad. I was yelled at and beat by my father for 25 years why would I go try to get myself yelled at more? So take off the tinfoil hat, stop assuming I'm announcing I'm gonna be more openly disrespectful on purpose. I'm a respectful person, I don't attack people, I don't troll people, I don't do anything to deliberately harm anyone.

So I ask you very politely.

If anything you read here today has tarnished your opinion of me?

Please just block me and move on, holy shit. Do the right thing, make yourself more comfortable, stop interacting. Don't waste your time trying to "get through to me" just leave, it's not worth either of our time. Do that with everyone you strongly disagree with. If someone offends you so much you're shitting blood just block them. Why the fuck y'all gotta keep putting your heads in sharks' mouths and then complaining they keep bitin' you.

[merbear25]

Hello again, here for the matchup 🌹 Thank you so much for doing this, I got so excited when you gave me a heads up!

(Here's some of my favorite guys if it helps or anything: Corazon, Law, Smoker, Kid, Katakuri, Bartolomeo, Crocodile)

Female, she/her, INFJ, Gemini. Personality wise, I got two sides (stereotypical ik). Most of the times, I'm really affectionate, warm, soft but I can also get a bit cold, serious and intimidating, thing that surprises some. I'm basically that meme: I can be your angel or your devil (lol). A bit impatient at times when I'm excited about something. Extremely ambitious when I want something. Really loyal and caring to my dear ones (I'd do anything for them).

Big romantic, my love language: physical touch and gift giving.

I work in the medical field and love it, it was my dream and still is. I really like putting patients at ease and helping them get through their condition mentally first. It makes my day to see them smile again.

Aesthetically wise I go for slight dark feminine and romantic. Colour palette: red, black, white, silver. I'm all about casual dresses and really sweet perfumes. I also have a hidden tattoo on my thigh of a crescent moon.

When I'm not studying, my hobbies are: Aikido and bokken training, dancing, sometimes archery but I do it more rarely now, oh and I also have a big thing for learning about perfumes, wine, and tea.

Likes: flowers, deep conversations, going on long walks, sweets, art.

Hope this is alright for you and not too long or confusing. Thank you so much for your time. Take care, have a wonderful day!

I'm so happy to do this for you as some form of 'thank you' for the matchup you did for me! I had a lot of fun writing it, so I hope you like it!

P.s. I like how you organize your matchups, so I'm gonna copy it >_> sorry

I match you with...

He would first be drawn in by how you carry yourself. You seem like the kind of person to have grace in their step, so you'd definitely peak his interest.

When he gets to know you, it's obvious how sincere you are with your emotions. He'd be fond of that type of transparency.

Despite his intimidating exterior, he has a gooey and soft center and would adore having deep and meaningful conversations with you to strengthen your bond.

Without a doubt, this man has loyalty as one of his main traits and would expect nothing less from his partner, so upon realizing this about you, he'd feel more comfortable exploring his feelings.

That being said, I see his love languages as being physical touch and acts of service.

When he feels it's appropriate to confess his feelings, he'd do so in a way that'd be more on the romantic side, which would be something special you can share and remember together.

Whenever you're a bit distant or cold, he'd do little things to help you feel more at ease. He's fairly observant, so you wouldn't need to tell him exactly what you need all the time.

He loves a good cuddle, so he would absolutely shower you with affection, adoration, and little gifts he'd pick up on missions (or when he's just out and about). Expect the gifts to be suited to your personal interests (he's thoughtful that way).

When you tell him that one of your passions is perfume, he'd take note of it and find flowers, candles, and of course, perfumes that compliment your preferences and asthetic. However, if he has to leave on a mission that will seperate the two of you for some time, he'd gift you something with a scent that'd remind you of him.

Would have so much respect for you when learning that you followed your dream, especially since your dream involves being selfless.

Would definitely love sparring with you. I think he'd love having a partner who's interested in forms of combat. You both would have a good chance to learn from each other.

Honestly, I just feel like you two would compliment each other really well.

Hope you have a wonderful day, lovely 💜💜

[auncyen]

"This will take me just a couple hours to write and then I'll work on a different fic" BUZZER NOISE this part took me a good chunk of the day and it's not the whole idea but I decided this is a good enough stopping point and I'll save the rest for more writing soon.

*

Hikari does not question it at first when the sky darkens with clouds and Castti redirects their course to shelter just within a cave's mouth minutes before the rain begins. Alone, he might have tried to press through the bad weather simply for the novelty--rain is uncommon in Ku--but the apothecary carries a selection of herbs and other supplies that might be ruined by water. Or maybe she simply wishes not to be soaked. It's understandable, so he thinks nothing of the hastiness of their detour until he tries to pass the time by striking up a conversation with her and she doesn't respond. She stands near the entrance of the cave, her gloved hands running over her covered arms, her eyes staring blankly at the rain.

Hikari tries calling her name, but does not try to get her attention a third time. She has amnesia, apparently. Whatever injury took her memory might have affected her in other ways. He can not judge her for that. Sometimes his mind is not his own, either. He simply watches her to make sure her restlessness, anxiety, whatever it is does not get worse, and thankfully, she seems to come back to herself after another minute or so and turns toward him with a rattled smile. He returns it with a smaller one, though still genuine. The matter of her behavior goes unaddressed. They have been companions only briefly, and he does not wish to alienate her.

It rains more often as they get to the Leaflands, the bountiful forests and land dependent on it. Castti always hastens to shelter, but she does not fall into the same long trance again, and Hikari thinks perhaps it was completely unrelated. But then they meet Agnea, and the spirited Leaflands native is so used to rain that she is not content to stay under shelter. "Agnea," Castti calls, an obvious warning in her voice as Agnea moves toward the foul weather; the girl pauses to address her, but there's laughter in her voice.

"What, Castti? I checked, I'm not carrying anything that'd get ruined by a little water. And it's starting to lighten up!"

The dancer twirls out into the raindrops, and Castti makes a choking noise, taking a step forward and reaching her hand forward like she would grab Agnea and pull her back before the apothecary catches herself. Her hand clenches into a fist in front of her chest.

That reaction is...concerning. "Castti," Hikari says. "What is the matter?"

"...Nothing should be the matter," the woman says slowly, still eyeing Agnea like she's afraid some disaster will befall the girl. Is she afraid of lightning strikes, perhaps? There hasn't been a single clap of thunder. "It's just water. Life-giving water. I don't know why I feel so...uneasy."

Agnea comes to a stop in her dance, striking a pose in front of Hikari and Castti. The instant she looks at Castti, she drops the pose and trots back under the covering.

"I'm alright, Castti! I'll dry out in no time. An' I was carrying everything in my purse," she says, some of her country accent slipping out as she jabs a finger at the bag she slipped off before walking into the rain. "Sorry if I worried you."

Castti shakes her head, sounding embarrassed when she speaks. "No, it's alright. I shouldn't be so worked up about some rain."

The next time they encounter an overcast sky, Castti does not look for shelter or change course. "It's only a light rain," she says, as much to herself as Hikari and Agnea, and they try to go straight through it. Hikari approves of Castti's attempt to face her fear. It fits with what he knows of her, a woman brave enough to still try to extend a hand to help others even when she has good reason to focus on her own problems.

Her hands are clenched tight at her sides, though, and her face is twisted in an uncharacteristic grimace. Agnea is looking at her with the same worry on her face that Hikari feels, even if he is trying not to show it. Suddenly Castti simply breaks away from them, beelining to a tunnel running under a land bridge, and tears off her gloves, satchel, blue capelet, white apron, and--

Agnea grabs Hikari by the shoulders and forces him to turn away before running to their companion. "Castti? Castti!"

Hikari stays carefully turned away to not risk any impropriety. He also turns his face up toward the sky, feeling the scattered droplets that land on his skin. To him, the sensation feels refreshing. What about it strikes such fear in her? He has heard about disasters caused by rain, floods and mudslides and such... could that be the cause?

As the minutes pass, he hears Agnea coaxing Castti into a dry change of clothes from her pack. He only hears Agnea, and that Castti is making no audible response concerns him. "Is she alright?"

"I-I'm fine," Castti speaks up, her voice cracking. "I'm d-decent, Hikari, you can come j-join us. I'm sorry, I can't figure out what's wrong with me--"

"It's okay," Agnea reassures her. "That's what you're traveling to figure out, right? You've been all the places in your book, so if you go back you're sure to meet people who know you and can help you remember. In the meantime, Hikari and I will be right by your side."

"Agnea's right," Hikari agrees. Having turned around, he can see Castti is wearing a sage green dress she picked up in the Leaflands and the same boots as before, her feet likely perfectly dry inside as the leather and stitching seem of good quality. She's not wearing any other part of her uniform, her hands balled over her face in frustration and shame. "Traveling in the rain has its risks, anyway. There is no reason we must try to journey through it." Not as long as they made good time through the fairer weather.

He knows Castti is a very practical woman, and that argument seems to work at calming her down. She nods as her hands drop to her side, revealing reddened eyes. "That's true, it's simply...you asked to travel with me when I can't even tell you who I am. I don't want to hold either of you back."

"You're not," Agnea reassures her. "And we know a few things about you! You're Castti, an amazing apothecary and a really kind person."

Hikari nods before starting to set down some of his things, opting to move toward a cluster of rocks that have stayed dry compared to the lower ground. "The rain will stop soon enough. Let's be patient and wait here."

[zerolostwalks]

meticulously planning 'candid' photos for Flarrie?

Please! :D

Carrie wasn’t sure what Flynn wanted. 

She knew they wanted something because Flynn had started the conversation by asking Carrie how their day had been in that abnormally tight way of theirs. The one where she was forcing herself to be polite and not make it seem like they were only here to ask for something. 

An old lingering habit of times past, back when they were still mending bridges between them.

“Something I can help you with, Flynn?”

“What?” Flynn’s voice remained tight and forcefully pleasant. A single eyebrow raise from Carrie was all it took for Flynn to drop the weak facade. 

“Some idiot at work keeps trying to ask me out and refuses to take no for an answer.”

“Ugh.” Carrie said under her breath, Flynn nodding their agreement with an eye roll. “So what? You want Willie and I to go do the reverse Uno card routine?” 

Flynn shook her head, a laugh playing at the corner of her mouth. “No, but.”

“But?”

With a heavy sigh, Flynn sat straighter before speaking in an unexpectedly fast rush, with an expression reminiscent of someone ripping off the band-aid to get it over with. “The only way I could get him to stop was to tell him I was already dating someone, but Jordyn over heard and wanted to hear more and see pictures, and I said I couldn’t show her any pictures until I spoke to my partner, and of course ‘McAsshole takes-no-hints’ heard everything.”

“Woah, Flynn, breathe.” Flynn stopped with another aggravated puff of air, shooting Carrie an unexpectedly apprehensive look. She didn’t really care for it. “How many sodas have you had today?”

Flynn’s eyes hardened into a brief glare that felt more comfortably familiar, but otherwise didn’t answer the question.

“God, I don’t envy your dentist.”

“My teeth are perfect, thank you very much.” 

“Mhmm, sure.”  Carrie said, with a smirk. “You still haven’t said why you are here.”

“I need pictures to show Jordyn.”

“Ok, and?” Carrie asked, unable to fully ignore Flynn’s withering glare. “What? You want me to be your girlfriend?”

“I mean, not like, for real.” Flynn said with a groan. “But, like, help me get some pics that would be convincing enough for Jordyn.”

Carrie shot her own glare Flynn’s way, not sure what exactly was meant by ‘convincing enough photos.’

“I’ll get you a drink from that new Boba Tea place.” Flynn clearly misread Carrie’s apprehension. “And a whole pastry pack from that new vegan bakery. The double dozen one.”

That was a tempting, and not entirely cheap, offer but still it didn’t answer. “What kinds of photos?”

“Nothing too intimate.” Flynn rushed to say. “Just a couple of selfies and maybe a shot or two of us like holding hands or hanging out or something.”

Carrie inspected her nails as she thought it over. “They’d all have to look like they were taken on different days, though, wouldn’t they.”

“Probably, yeah, to make it convincing. But I don’t have work the next couple of days, and we could make a day of it. Maybe even get your Boba and pastries along the way.”

Carrie narrowed her eyes as she walked back to her room gesturing for Flynn to follow. “How coordinated are we aiming for?”

“Knowing you?” Flynn began through a small laugh. “We’d be coordinated most if not all the time.”

“Knowing you, you’d forget to tell me some feature piece of your outfit that'd completely ruin any of my efforts.”

Carrie’s eye roll at Flynn’s apologetic shrug was belied by her own small smile. The planning soon moved back to Flynn’s apartment with Carrie dragging a good portion of her wardrobe with her. Though they didn’t initially plan for it, Carrie ended up staying for the night due to how late their planning ran into the night.

[tobiasdrake]

Interrogating Worst Pupper yielded some surprising results and more questions. Let's see if Kurumi has any context to offer about it.

GODDAMMIT KURUMI. I turned my back for five minutes. Did you get kidnapped, eaten, or hungry? All three of these options are viable.

Hard to make out the clothes from here. Is that supposed to be Kurumi or one of the Master Detectives? It looks like another Halara to me.

Oh hey! Congrats, Vivia. Either you or a version of you finally got what he wanted!

Yeah, my money is on Kurumi getting hungry and wandering off to find some flesh to eat. She'll probably be feral for a shocking WTF next time we see her.

In any case, what do we have for intel on Vivia's body?

That distinction is important. It's why bodies have to be disposed of quickly from Kanai Ward.

Okay so that would naturally follow why the homunculus guy is their lead weapon designer. I'm following.

Whole-ass physical reset upon death. Yeah, that'd definitely give the game away if the bodies weren't removed fast enough.

One day, however, is a reasonable timeframe. That's more than enough time to dump them off in the Restricted Area and keep up the cover.

I wonder if we could reset the ferals to factory settings as easily as killing them and letting them regenerate?

I hope our friends are homunculi. I don't want them to be dead-dead.

That's. Interesting. So then it might not be possible for everyone in Kanai Ward to be homunculi. Huesca himself can't be a homunculus. Neither can old man Margulaw from the Resistance. I thought homunculi would naturally age and then regen when they died but no. Anyone that's elderly must be human.

Still haven't met Yakou. Maybe he was human. :(

So you wouldn't even know that you're a homunculus.

I'm going to laugh if this is the explanation for pink blood. "Anyone with pink blood is a homunculus. Nobody ever notices this discrepancy for some reason."

Oh look, there she goes. Kurumi has a rumbly in her tumbly. We should go see how if she's found anyone to snack on. We might find her gnawing on Fubuki's bones.

This looks an awful lot like a driveable road. Bet you this is where the truck bringing the "corpses" of deceased homunculi comes down.

If there are real humans in the city, they might bring those for the ferals to snack on too.

Looks like something smashed through it from inside. That's. I have no idea. Nothing we've seen thus far adds up to HULK SMASH PUNY DOOR. Well, let's go in and see what horrifying behemoth made this hole.

The Food Processing Plant wasn't the secret secret lab. It was the Food Processing Plant. We didn't get to fully explore it but I still think that's where the kidnapped outsiders get processed into KANAI WARD SIGNATURE MEAT BUNS.

So this might be the secret secret lab instead. Man, Kurumi shambled fast for a feral.

OKAY NEVER MIND I GUESS OLD PEOPLE CAN BE HOMUNCULI. Maybe if you were already old when your homunculus was made, you're stuck that way. No backwards-aging for you.

Huesca does not think highly of his own homunculus project. Makes sense since, if Blank Week means what I think it does, he fucking killed everybody in Kanai Ward. Including himself, as we can see here.

Huh, no wonder Yomi couldn't let him escape the city. Just like Icardi, things would have gone downhill real fast and in a hurry for the homunculus secret if Huesca inadvertently and publicly cut himself off from the sanity-preserving meat buns.

Huesca was motivated to rush his work and cut corners to try and win the arms race against UG's experiments. So, of course, he fucked up and everybody died.

No wonder he has a terrible reputation even within Amaterasu.

It was gentrification. There was never a toxic gas leak. That was the excuse used to move everyone out of the village so that Huesca could carry out his work.

Oh look. Zilch's interrogation ended abruptly when he began looping the conversation. I think Huesca's looping all the way back to the beginning. This is when he first woke up as a homunculus, after Makoto remade everyone.

I don't think we need to ask Kurumi about Blank Week anymore. It's pretty obvious what it was at this point.

[theadventurerslog]

Discworld | Part 7

Part 7 and onward in my longest game here yet. In which I get that last artifact and finally make it to Act III and beyond!

But first that artifact. I knew the Fool had it, but I wasn't sure what it actually was. I assumed it might be his Chucky staff or something inside it. No, it turned out to be his hat with golden bells. I got a bit irked because for all five of the other people their artifact could be examined and was treated as an interactable. The hat? Absolutely nothing. I knew it thanks to a hint. I get you're supposed to know by the gold, but it broke the pattern already set by five, five! other artifacts!

Anyway, once over that hurdle and after a bit of a break from the game, I figured I'd need him to get to the bath in the bathroom to put his hat on the hat stand in the bathroom. Which, by the way, that room's music is obnoxiously louder than everywhere else for some reason. Everything about this Fool was out to get me.

I dumped the garbage can over his head. That'd get him dirty and smelly all right.

He fled to the bathroom and I followed to find him in the tub, thankfully curtained off, his hat on the hat stand as hoped, and his staff guarding the way.

Freaking Chucky.

But easily handled by adding the bubble bath and blinding Chucky with all the bubbles and foam.

I grabbed the hat and got out of there.

All six artifacts acquired!

I'd already dropped off the previous five with the dragon, so it was time to bring the last one at last.

I said something along the lines of nothing could possibly go wrong in bringing all the artifacts to the dragon. Perfectly safe thing to do.

With the last one given, he was free! ...To start enacting revenge on the world, the brotherhood, and oops, lastly Rincewind too because he had been at the ritual. Who'dathunk.

Rincewind skedaddled but now we had a new problem. Stop this dragon from coming for him later and I guess everyone else, too. After some initial what nowing it came down to having to stop the ritual from having happened the previous night.

But first I wandered and went back to the palace and discovered Nanny Ogg was gone now, so I guessed she got her seller's permit and sure enough she'd moved to the Square. She was selling a magic carpet and in her stall was her custard recipe book which she was not willing to sell.

I got the magic carpet and carried on...

Okay, so for this particular session I was already feeling kind of irritable and impatient, so while I still didn't succumb to a guide, I did go inch my way a little bit into what Universal Hint System had to say.

The ritual needed to be stopped which meant going back to that night. You can take the dragon summoning book that the thief steals, but that doesn't do anything. In fact the ritual still takes place exactly the same as always -- which does beg the question of what the book is actually doing here. Anyway, instead of just taking the book you need to replace it with something else for the thief to take. I used UHS as far as needing to get the thief to take something. Once I was on the right path it was a matter of 'okay, clearly need a different book'. And the only book I knew of was that custard book, so back I went.

I went through Nanny Ogg's conversation options again and in one of them, she gets flirty and tries a kiss pose which leaves her distracted enough to whisk away the book. So that turned out to be easy.

The book on its own isn't enough though. You gotta use them together to swap the covers, then put the newly decorated custard book in the shelf for the thief to steal, and then it's back to the hideout where Rincewind stayed outside this time to eavesdrop.

The ritual started out the same as usual but once it was time to use the book, it became custard time.

Too much oozy love custard leaking out the door... ick.

With the brotherhood otherwise engaged and the dragon not summoned, Rincewind raced back to the castle feeling quite the hero.

Which no one believed because the dragon didn't get summoned this time and dragons don't exist.

Rincewind kept insisting on the dragon being real and then... well they're summoned by belief, so...

In came the dragon with some new decorating techniques, adding a nice big hole to the castle. Despite the fiddling with time, the dragon still seemed to recognize Rincewind? So, maybe it sort of sits outside time? I dunno.

But that brought me to Act III at last!

So, Rincewind got out of there, as a Rincewind do, but now there's a dragon in the palace. Now there needs to be a hero, and I guess it was time to step up to the plate...?

It seemed like a full round was needed again for changes. I went to the city gate first and chatted with the guards. For a chance to defeat the dragon the odds have got to be a million to one because "It's a million to one chance but it might just work." And statements like that can't fail in a narrative.

This conversation brought up a little window to try different things on Rincewind to change or check the odds.

For now at least I only had the options of a tattoo, mask and magic book. Any combination of them wasn't getting the odds where I needed them. So it was time to start exploring and finding out what makes a hero.

Square: I next went to the square where I discovered that the old man who hadn't been doing so well, is in fact... not.

He's a gravestone now. Oh dear, oh dear.

Turns out he was still getting some comments from... down there? And the others seem to think he's still faking, so I dunno with these guys.

They continued to be not particularly helpful though did wind their way to talking about the traditional sacrifice of a virgin bound to a rock for the dragon.

Dibbler: now selling a leech weight loss program. After some arguing back and forth I got a paper bag of leeches. Examining the bag in the inventory took out the leeches. Two items in one!

Amazon Woman: Rincewind started to tentatively broach the subject of virgins and rocks but turns out she's not anymore. Someone bested her...at tiddly-winks.

Stall: Like the tomatoes, when I took one, the poor mouse went by now on a crutch and the egg dropped and broke over it... unleashing a snake?? I got the snake anyway. And I took another egg that I got to keep.

Psychia-trickerist: Not anymore! It's a casting office for the "Clickies". Film is starting to take off!

The troll is going by "Flint" now and reckons a hero should have a black mustache. He's got a lichen one going himself.

The girl is all into being a star now and was willing to give me her "ottograph" named after her agent, Otto, if I could bring her some nice paper.

Dunnyking: Also not the Dunnyking anymore, but now the custard king. The custard just never ends.

That was the Square done for now, so I headed to the alley next.

Rooftops: I got another scene of an assassin training on the rooftops. There's a replacement ladder but when I went up I couldn't take it. It can be interacted with though... Something for later.

Alchemist's home: He's figured out banged grains (popcorn)--gotta have the appropriate snacks for movies, but he's been purchasing expensive premium grain. Rincewind suggested he get some at the livery stable instead for a lot cheaper, so he took off leaving me free to steal the camera box, or 'impstamatic'.

Moving on...

Livery Stable: Corn's gone and the donkey is still under the weather. But I could examine the bumper of the cart where there two stickers or plates: one for Sybil Ramkin's Dragon Sanctuary which opened a new location! Yay! And one too muddy to read.

From there I went to check the barn.

Barn: I guess the dragon didn't stay in the palace because he was back there. Otherwise nothing to do that I found.

Palace: The guards were back. I got through them with the ink blot again, more wife insulting sigh.

I was assaulted by noise on entering because there is now a smoke device where the dragon had landed before.

It's loud...

Now the line to see the Patrician had the University chef, the little guy who got beat up at the Broken Drum, and still the peasant

The bathroom was unchanged and in fact the bubble bath was still bubbling

In the area with the smoke device I was able to now enter the dungeons. Here I found a couple people in cells to chat with--a thief doing time ahead of time to get it done now with the efficiency only the Patrician can bring, and the guy I got the golden banana from who was arrested for having all the gold in the kingdom, oops...

There was a mousehole with eyes peering out, and an iron maiden. Just things to keep in mind.

And I found the torture room with the Fool and the torturer who had been the tax collector but got promoted. They're the same department.

Not much but annoyance from the Fool.

I got a bone from the skeleton and then left for now.

Unseen University:

Library: Mostly unchanged but the door to L-Space is closed now

Kitchen: Got a spatula

Dining Hall: Learned from the Lecturer of Recent Runes that a Hero should have a magic talisman

Archchancellor's Office: I got his hat! It was just sitting on his desk. And when I examined his hat a bunny and handkerchiefs poked out: a seemingly endless string of them in there.

Broken Drum: Also mostly unchanged. However, there was a drink on the shelf - Klatchian cactus juice with a worm wriggling inside, that once I examined, I was able to order. That got me the worm that seems drunk. Happy, but drunk.

I still have several places just within in the city let alone outside it to check out, so the exploration and item gathering will continue next time.

[autumnbrambleagain]

Yhelm 13 - readmore for full

Drizzle was gone. Those who had been in-city at the time said Flyhh had gotten sick of her and had tossed her out of Flyhhnemonia. Physically. Bodily. Even in the out-city Yhelm had seen SOMEthing, a streak of gray shooting through the sky, sweeping the rainclouds away with it. In moments they were rolled up like some great carpet and lost to the horizon.

Green skies ruled again. Ardent, gold and glorious, was looking down on the pink city at last. His flying knights fluttered across the distant sky, trailing miles-long banners of rainbow this way and that. Disgruntled insects buzzed and sang in the trees. Birds chirped and honked in celebration.

Meadoe preserve, it was a nice day.

There was no way Yhelm was going to let Lils stay cooped and miss it.

They had gone shopping. Lils had always relied on trusted runners to collect things for her--mostly garbage-picking from the sumps? But Lils was smart enough she could force meaning out of trash and make magic out of it anyway. But this was Flyhhnemonia. No, this wasn't Cazzhad, it wasn't the Forbidden City, but it was still freaking Flyhhnemonia. There was an entire greenlight street full of nothing but magic stores.

Lils deserved a shopping trip, damnit.

It had been a good haul, too. A real good haul. Sacred brass fixtures, a new three-tube distiller, a spring-chisel, resin-ink from Tordabirr, stuff that would make rep-form magic a lot easier to construct. It hadn't even been Yhelm making the shopping list.

Lils had done it. Half the little odds and ends Lils had bought Yhelm didn't even recognize, Lils had just, done it. She'd done it. She didn't get lost or confused or wander off, nothing.

She'd even bought a branch of sunless wood to make a staff with. She was carrying it in her mouth like a dog getting real excited about a cool stick. It was kind of cute? And no one in the greenlight district had even looked twice at the fact that, you know.

That Lils was a hollow, dusty, walking, mummified corpse.

"You gotta call me when you make your staff," Yhelm said, as they rounded the corner to the shady alley Lils lived in. "The last staff I made was years ago and I don't even remember, like… at least three of the steps."

"There aRE three steps!" Lils sang happily around her new staff-base. "OR so it can be thusly. Lils remembers: different. IDEAS of a staff-make. Was. Was called? APA? ADA?"

"APA, MLA, and Traditional," Yhelm recited from a memory she didn't know she had.

Lils nodded seriously, nearly knocking Yhelm in the face with the staff-to-be. "The prOFFESional ways. YEs. Lils remembers such things as not adhering to. Style guides. Would say. Style guides. But this is. GREEN. Magic. Not yellow. STYLE. It was a joke Lils to make!"

Yhelm caught her laugh in her throat. "What if it's an adversary greenlight?" she teased.

"YellOW and greEN. Make. A green-yellOW. That is Creativity. Thus you are stuffed knack. Lils has sewing materials for you to use."

Yhelm had to stop and just, kinda stare at Lils for a moment.

Partially because they were at her house, the "collapsing" shack (Lils had magic installations that'd keep the thing standing in a hurricane, actually) where Belham hid her away from the world. Lils had locked the door magically. It took her a hot moment to undo the bindings.

But she also had to stop and stare at Lils because, wow, that was, that was a complex joke. When she had first been sent to Lils she could barely remember how a conversation had started by the time it had ended. Now she was keeping up with conversations consistently. Now she was making abstract jokes. She'd gone from a barely-there idea of a person to--to, well, Lils. She'd gone from this helpless bumbling thing Yhelm had to keep a close eye on to… Lils. Just Lils.

It's almost like Belham keeping her locked up for her "safety" was a terrible idea and she was doing so much better ever since Yhelm had started to sneak her out of the house. Who would have thought? Oh, Yhelm would have thought. Because she was a trained academage and had a fucking degree in this stuff.

It had been a summer. It had been a weird summer. Yhelm remembered first seeing Lils' dessicated, ruined face beneath that hood and trying real hard not to freak out. Now when Lils looked back with that little half-hidden corpse-grin and said "dOOR has been made open!" any sense of disgust was just, gone. That was the face of a peer, now. The face of her fellow guild wizard.

Haha. Haha wouldn't it be fucked up if Yhelm was getting a crush on a half-dead. Haha. Ha.

Fuck.

Yhelm swallowed that feeling right down and said "Let's get your loot unloaded," instead.

Stepping into the shack, the air was so perfectly humid, and full of the soft smell of dry wood after too much rain. Ardentlight leaking through holes in the roof held up the ceiling like gold pillars. Magical such-and-stuff filled out every corner of the shack, shelves and tables and installations all crowding around Yhelm and Lils as they entered.

"Welcome back," Belham Pio, Boss of the Guild of Porters and Fisherman, said.

"Ah fuck," Yhelm intoned quietly.

"Go ahead and close the door," Belham said, even though Yhelm had finished doing that by the time he was on word three.

Lils just trotted up to him happily, still acting like a dog who wanted to show off her neat stick. "HellO uncall! W e have done made the shopping. WaS there a magic yOu neeD?"

Belham looked down at Lils, then up at Yhelm, the cold, smokey ghostfire framing his head curling angrily. "So what's this? Why is, what is, I'm sorry Meadoe must not have given me the page where I told you to take Lils out stick-picking?"

Yhelm crossed her arms, letting her leather jacket get that real nice squeaking sound. "She needed magic supplies."

Belham nodded, clacking his jaw wordlessly. "Ah," he said, still nodding. "Ah. Maybe--now see this is on me, I thought her being in a house you couldn't even think about entering without a magic password, being hidden from public knowledge, referral only, see, I thought, and this is my fault, so we can all just stop and blame me, so don't even feel for a SECOND like you did something wrong, I thought you were smart enough to realize that meant she was supposed to be something of a secret, and not paraded around outside. I know! I know. Dumb old Belham! Silly old goat! I thought the academage who can't shut up about how smart she is was, you know, at least, in some way, not an idiot. My mistake. Won't make it again."

This was an attack. An attack of words, of Style, and for a moment Yhelm almost rose in counter-attack, but she stopped, with her tongue pressing into the roof of her mouth. The only move stronger than a counter-attack is to act like you weren't even hit in the first place. "That feel good? Got it out of your system yet?"

Lils looked back between Yhelm and Belham in confusion. "Is? Words?? has a something DONE to a-o-curr?"

"So that's all you really have to say?" Belham asked Yhelm.

"No, I'm just waiting until you're done being angry enough that I can tell you why you're wrong."

Dead were unpredictable. Those born dead, like Belham Pio, were descended from Hartlight, God of Graves, who, if anything on the Wall was even slightly accurate, had been the enemy of creation and tried to destroy the world before it had even existed. That dead existed as a race in the modern day was only due to the mercy of the original gods and the innocence of the core of their idea. But Belham Pio was a lifelong gangster, a guild boss, descended from the first villain in existence, a skeleton-ghost that ate fear, and right now, oh right now he looked really pissed.

But he always looked really pissed. And Yhelm? Yhelm was an adversary. The father of her race was born from the idea of getting into trouble and getting out of it unharmed. She could pull this off. She'd been thinking about this since the first night she'd taken Lils out garbage picking, been planning out her arguments and explanations and citations like it was a thesis defense. That was the trick. Turn the situation, whatever situation, into the kind you were meant to win. And adversaries? They were created to win the 'just got home from sneaking out with your daughter' situation.

Belham Pio broke the standoff first. "Okay, that sounds fun. Why don't you tell me exactly how I'm wrong--"

"Gladly," Yhelm interrupted. "You're looking at Lils as a sick version of herself who needs to be kept safe. Except half-dead are mimeographic resonances of their original lives; corpses are used as a base for creation because of Aescshler's Law that states it's easier to modify something than create something, and are created by exploiting the Law of Like-Must-Be-Is. The corpse syllepetically provides both a metaphorical framework and a physical framework for a continuity, and during Story-transference motive energies force, and are forced to, take the impression of the original identity. Except this is an exploit of like-must-be-is and shouldn't be counted as a revival but only a reincarnational possibility. Half-dead are reliant, and this is the important part, half-dead are reliant on the creating wizard providing continual referential context or else, just as the body decays, so will the resonance of continuity."

Nodding, Belham said, "Right, right, I understood none of that."

"I know you didn't, that was my point," Yhelm said. "The take-away is, half-dead aren't someone who died but they have dementia because being dead was rough. They're constructs that look so much like a person who used to be alive the world gets confused and starts thinking they are that person, so it fills in the gaps. Just enough to be a useful servant or fighter or whatever the wizard made it for. Bits of the person's memory and personality are just a side-effect of the process."

"Huh," Belham said. "And so you've been sneaking out with her because…"

"The wizard keeps the half-dead working through a ton of complex magic that I'm pretty sure isn't active for Lils anymore since her creator's, you know, dead. Without the wizard actively tricking the world into thinking Lils is who Lils used to be, she degenerates. And I can't replicate the magic, so the only way to keep her from becoming mindless and eventually actually-dead-dead, is to treat her like a person so hard the world is convinced she's that person and lets her keep existing."

Off to the side, Lils was nodding in unsteady, jerky agreement. "REM ember this principAL. A half-dead of LILS is: symbolism like a repform mAgic! And all magic inSTALLations do a crumble over time. CannoT sust ain! It is reaSONABlE that a Lils will also do a unsustaIn unless maintaIn! The principle of friend Yhelm is sound."

It was so hard to tell what a dead was thinking by facial expressions when the face was just a flaming skull, but Belham did a good show of crossing his arms and shifting his weight to the side and lowering his head so his eyes glowered down at Yhelm dramatically. "So you're telling me you're running around with her without permission to save her life."

"And she's my friend," Yhelm said. "It's a nice day out."

"I bet you expect I'm going to get real angry now! Give you something to be an adversary about. So you can go and be the leather-clad hero! Well. I'm going to be very boring instead and say, I'm only upset you didn't think to tell me about this beforehand. Because you are, as you are trying to prove, a licensed academage. So why didn't you think to tell me I was doing something dumb! This is what I pay you for! You saw I was doing something with negative results and didn't think, well, hey, maybe I should warn Belham this isn't what modern scientific consensus says you should do with half-dead you want to keep alive. I! Pay you to know these things! And instead of being angry that you are sneaking about like an adversary seducing my daughter I'm upset that you, as my employee, didn't do the thing that is supposed to be your job!"

Fuck, Yhelm thought. He kind of had her, there. "In my defense, prim'ent, you're a hard person to go up to and say, hey, you're wrong about something."

The fires curling around Belham's head fluttered out. "Okay, fair point. I am very scary."

[ithinkimightbenobody]

I have some sort of sensitivity to family time, especially during meals.

I have never sensed that my other siblings felt the same way, they were able to eat with good appetite, make conversations and sometimes laugh.

This feeling I have, recently developed, I can't recall I felt this way earlier while growing up, can't figure if l had a different view of things at the time or maybe I wasn't even allowed to feel anything. Perhaps I tolerated them better, or was blinded from the fact that I don't have to anymore.

I wish I could say after all these years I have mastered avoiding dinner time, I think I'm getting worse at it with time as it's getting too obvious now that they sometimes confront about it, I just deny it cause words cost nothing, it's not my problem that my appetite appears right after dinner time, or how I always need the bathroom when I hear the sound of the metal spoons being placed over the glass surface of the table, it has to be some reflex my body have created.

I'm just irritated, in a way that'd make me sound like a terrible person, in the face of this loving family who claim to love and care for me, I believe this is how they all see me, as if I never made it through the teenage years, they keep saying it's my choice to stay inside, and all I see that it's an involuntary act of withdrawing immediately in the occurrence of this event, I can't physically tolerate it, haven't tried to fight it and never looked for answers behind it, I don't know what's the secret, is it the boring food, the house, or my mother's face, desperate to make conversation.

The atmosphere is suffocating, and the way they are able to carry a conversation is always a mystery to me, can't decide if it's worse or the deadly silence that always leaves room for thinking and observation to these little sad details I've been trying to forget.

I think the best solution for everyone is if I just disappear, I'd rather be the asshole inside than the asshole on the table, they maybe think I don't care about what they're saying while I'm just secretly praying that no one will ever include me or ask me about anything, because I will appear frankly annoyed or maybe I can succeed pulling a fake smile, and for people whose been living with me for a quarter of a century, it won't be very convincing.

I can see it in their eyes, they are willing to communicate, they reach out most of the time, a relentless approach for a distant family member.

Caught up in my own fog of thoughts and feelings avoiding any interaction and always taking the easy way out, a perfect example for a weak selfish person.

It's sad cause it's automatic, I don't feel guilty cause I'm rarely conscious while doing that, I'm stalling them as much as I'm stalling myself.

I feel that maybe I need a long extended apology, for doings they don't even know they committed, and as much sad as ironic, things I'm not even sure happen.

I live everyday with the possibility of my whole life being narrated by my brain making me the perfect victim while in fact all the people around me were just being. What if nothing actually happened the way I received it, and whose problem is this?

I'm so scared that by the time I overcome these overwhelming feelings, that I seem to be very immature to resolve, there won't be much of a family left around that table.

It just hit me that by the time I can finally accept washing the dishes there won't be much dishes to wash, with years I find myself bringing fewer spoons, fewer plates.

I hope this idea won't cross my mind when that day comes.

I don't think I have the right to shed tears as I'm writing this while hiding from dinner time, again, today I said it was too cold and I'm sleepy, also that I'm not that hungry even though it was never about the food.

[godsbox]

❝ . . . ugh. ❞ decided in his own head somewhere between rolling away from his body heat and drifting off, it'd seemed sensitive to shut up, to not nag over it until suguru brought it up next. and any rehearsal over what he might say, what'd be right to say ( what suguru'd say, how he always knew best, probably'd had sensibility scribbled onto his bones from birth & had them buried where gojo's eyes couldn't see, pried as they did, hoping to peel it all back and read straight from the core ) that'd all gone to the trash. any of it'd fit strangely in his mouth like too many teeth, like cycling through shrine blessings, cracking open cookies and swapping out fortunes 'til one fit his hopes, his wants. but none of it genuine, real, none of it from himself. it'd always felt decent to stuff himself in after his best friend, follow suit like nothing more severe than matching their jackets and their buttons, let the shape of himself remold to suguru's body no matter how much he liked to kick, liked to chew where they touched : it'd been a trail he could follow blindly, sniffing after him. i go where you go. overused eyes always shut, rested.

he'd never had a best friend before this, knew he wouldn't need any other after. but lifting its prideful significance up off display to more closely examine things, it'd meant playing ball with the likely probability that their friendship had hit its ceiling last year. that there wasn't the space to get any closer, nowhere to move but parallel, or backwards ( and, somehow, without registering it as it'd happened . . . they'd already done the latter. ) steam from his untouched cup colored his nose a shiny pink & he swipes at it, dropping himself backwards to stretch sprawled across the floor    hair flipped, strands scattered like sugar floss. ❝ y'talking to me, o o r . . . should i scram again, give you some privacy ? having a conversation with yourself. already picking out what you think i think. ❞ in every breath, the cup he'd set balanced over the plane of his abdomen wobbled, tea lapping the sides with the stretch of one arm to reach, to grasp around the bone of suguru's ankle and burn that upside down gaze up at his face. wide - eyed, untampered. he couldn't have put a name to his own expression. ❝ that's why i'll always tell you, you're clueless and you're always gonna be. you got no idea how i feel. ❞

his heart was a heavy thing to lug around, hot and oozing out red with every pulse. troublesome. never lived with any lack of reminding him in special efforts or begrudging refusals, either a worthy pain or not. on a pedestal or beneath the soles of the shoes of his peers. the most considerate thing must've been to stop dumping his heart in suguru's hands, expecting him to coddle it. unpaid babysitting. forced labor. he could stare him in the eye now and claim that suguru should pile more on him, cash in so many favors left uncounted between them, that gojo could carry it all and more    and wouldn't it all come so shaped out like a joke ? when he could hardly ever commit to carrying his own weight ( it'd be alright if suguru noticed. saw where his faults undermined his intentions, made it all shriveled & pathetic. maybe he'd laugh too. ) ❝ what type of person am i to you ? start right there. right now. ❞ fingers curled, trimmed nails pinching onto bone like a cuff keeping suguru rooted to the spot by the ankle, his own skull ground into the floor to stare up at him.

a knowing laugh behind a hand , suguru wasn't going to let what he'd told satoru last night come back to inevitably haunt him . realistically though , he was aware they couldn't just drop the subject like a heated stone and pray that it drowns out of sight . hot as it was , dark and black , it may not be seen from the surface , but it remained underneath , festering , infected , never truly gone nor dealt with in any capacity . but somehow , it felt easier to deal with when he was with satoru , something he'd noted a lack of during the other's absence ; noticed that things were worse , darker , more sinister . even him being in the room was like opening curtains to let daylight filter in , illuminating the dust particles and sunrays casting shadows in a darkened heart . ( ah , damn , if suguru wasn't careful , he'd slip into their familiar routine too , leaving the admittance pried out of his throat last night behind . ) ❝ thank you , 'toru . ❞ he makes sure not to forget that , so in the same way he thanks his curses for their hard work , he's sure to thank gojo for going out of his way to go out . his genuine smile made it difficult to think about earlier , and even more difficult not to smile back at him too .

all this bread looked like comfort food . ( satoru's special brand of care was sharing , whether that be space or food , suguru had long since noticed the trend for himself and thought it was sweet in any regard . that's why suguru chooses one of the items on the splayed out collection , more random than anything after letting his eyes glance over all the options at least once . ) after a moment , he glances over , fingertips fiddling with similar plastic , and in the same way he opened his heart little by little to satoru , the plastic only came apart at the seams an inch . ❝ . . . i'm sorry for piling all that on you earlier . i wouldn't blame you if you were disgusted with me at all . i spent a lot of time telling you not to think like that , and here i am . . . thinking the same things . it was hypocritical of me . ❞ he ripped the plastic a tad more then , enough to lift it to his lips to bite into . ( was talking about your feelings always this painstaking ? he'd rather have teeth pulled ... ! every second of silence was terrible ! ) ❝ . . . but i won't lie and tell you it wasn't true . i can't do that to you either . ❞

[everysongineverykey]

narrator and toriel exchanging tips on how to care for humans, especially stubborn and mischievous ones

it's ten at night and they're sitting (well, toriel is; the narrator can't "sit" anywhere perse) in toriel's new, sparse living room in her house on the surface as the crickets chirp outside and frisk sleeps soundly in the other room and it feels like the world's just sighed deeply, and everything's relaxing, and there are joke books and books on shrimp and snails lying around scattered on the table open to random pages and toriel chuckles and says, "my, your friend stanley sounds like quite the handful! although i find his dedication to the bucket admirable. it is good to have someone you can always rely on, no matter what others may do."

and the narrator scoffs and manages to pull off a very impressive verbal eye-roll, and says, "well, that'd be fine if anyone was actually trying to hurt him, but no one is! he's in no danger! he has absolutely no need to rely on a bucket!"

toriel frowns slightly. "did you not say, just a moment ago, that he was being... mind-controlled?"

"well- i mean- well, yes, in the past he was, before the story starts, but every single run starts him off at his desk, after the controls have been neutralized! he just has to walk down to the facility and turn them off for good! it's so unfathomably easy, and yet- and yet, he still manages to find ways to muck it up!"

halfway through, he remembers there's a child sleeping in the other room, and checks his tone, still adjusting to having to be conscious of the volume of his voice. it's a strange thing, being heard by real, feeling, speaking people.

fortunately, toriel doesn't seem to notice. unfortunately, her next question isn't easy to answer.

"has anything... undesirable ever happened to stanley under your watch?"

the narrator pauses, searching her unreadable face, thinking of something to say that won't totally ruin the atmosphere.

"oh, i do not mean to be rude!" toriel clarifies quickly, the perfect picture of motherly anxiety. "i only ask because... well... i have often found it... difficult raising humans in the past. i feel sometimes as if i will never... truly understand them."

this is a feeling the narrator knows all too well. "oh, i know exactly what you mean," he reassures her. "one time, stanley told me with a straight face that he genuinely believed a tractor was a bucket! and that nothing was a bucket! i swear, that obsession of his is getting the best of him!"

toriel is unable to contain her laughter, and the narrator congratulates himself on another Real Conversation Done Right. "why," he continues, "what've your humans gotten up to that's worried you?"

just like that, the mirth disappears from her face, and her features, though not having aged at all since her son died, suddenly look very worn.

it seems a long while before she replies, "every human child i have tried to raise leaves me and dies for it."

chirp, chirp, chirp. the cricket noise outside seems to grow louder in the oppressive silence that follows.

it's as if her sentence was scripted, edited for minimum length and maximum clarity, so if anyone asked she wouldn't have to explain it too deeply. if only the narrator had an instructional video on socializing he could watch to know what to say...

at a loss, he tries, "frisk's still here... aren't they?"

toriel smiles, and while the narrator isn't he best judge of monster facial expressions, he doesn't think they're usually supposed to look this sad.

"yes. frisk is still here. despite everything..."

she gives the child's bedroom door a long look, a look that carries too many emotions for the narrator to stuff into booths.

"despite everything," she continues, "frisk is still here. even after i fought them... even after i tried to trap them in the ruins forever... they chose to stay with me. but those seven children... they are not like your stanley. they cannot restart with the push of a button. they left. and they-"

she inhales suddenly and sharply, bringing a paw up to her face, and the narrator realizes she's about to cry.

the narrator is about to see someone cry in real life, for the first time ever. the thought shakes him, and he feels a sense of unease that he is sure fills the whole room.

(that's the problem with being everywhere at once- your emotions feel as omnipresent as your voice. it's not so bad, he thinks, when your only companion can't feel it, or speak to tell you it annoys him.)

she gives up on finishing the sentence, covering her eyes with her paw. she doesn't need to say any more. the rest is obvious: and they are never coming back.

to the narrator's surprise, she doesn't cry. not loudly, anyway. not in the sloppy, sob-ridden, theatrical way the narrator has only seen on television. no, she's just sitting there, paws rubbing her face, and from a distance you'd wonder if she was even crying.

suddenly, abruptly, she uncovers her eyes, which are now red and shiny and as glassy as stanley's, but they're shedding no tears. incredible, the narrator thinks. she can turn it off whenever she thinks it's her duty to be strong.

i wish i could feel as subtly as that, he thinks briefly before pushing the thought away.

"are you-" he starts tentatively.

"i am fine," she sniffs. "please, do not worry. i just... do not talk about this often. it is hard to-" she looks down, thumbing a page of one of the joke books. "-keep it all inside every day."

"but... you do?"

again that sad smile. what he wouldn't give for a happy one, like he's always dreamed of seeing. "yes. i do. i have no other choice. it is not something i can talk about with my friends, after all."

"i couldn't do that," the narrator says as softly as possible. "keep everything locked up like that. even if i did, my world would be affected if i felt too deeply about anything. the last time i started thinking in circles, the rooms started running in circles. if i kept something like that in all day..."

he trails off, deciding not to even imagine the effect one of his hypothetical breakdowns could possibly have on the game- and on stanley.

"fortunately," toriel murmurs, "nothing like that will happen if i spare my friends the burden of hearing a silly old woman cry over her past mistakes."

time passes. she's looking at the words in the joke book, but the narrator really doubts she's actually reading anything. based on his limited understanding of sapient beings other than himself, this is not right.

"if you'd like to talk about it," he offers, "i can do with something besides puns for a little bit."

she gives him a small smile in response, still not looking up. somehow, the narrator can tell it still isn't what a smile is supposed to look like- it doesn't quite reach her glassy eyes. he steels himself. alright. time to try a new maneuver.

"or, of course, we can keep reading from that book there. the one you're reading. i mean, i just felt, since you're so captivated by it..."

he recalls the comedy advice she's given him over the past hour, namely, please don't do anything you learned in that instructional video, and pushes on.

"...that you could use a tu-toriel!"

for a moment, her expression does not change- the narrator wonders briefly if all comedians' jokes are followed by a moment of silence to consider the quality of the joke- and then she does something that confuses him even further.

toriel scrunches up her face, covers her snout with her paws, and begins... crying? laughing? ...hyperventilating? he can't tell.

"i-i'm sorry," he stammers, "are- is that a laugh? are you crying? i'm truly sorry, i- i quite honestly can't tell."

at that, she doubles over, slapping her left paw on the table once very hard, and finally uncovers her mouth.

"oh, mister narrator!" she wheezes, "you truly have learned so much!"

...and, thank god, the narrator can see now that yes, she is laughing, and laughing hard at that- she crosses her arms over her stomach, giggling like it's the funniest thing she's heard in years.

and there's a smile on her face, a real smile. so this is what it's like to make someone smile, or laugh, the narrator thinks... he's always wondered. it feels nice, being the reason someone laughs. he can feel something bright rising up inside him... as if his very soul is glowing... it's almost as good as a perfect steam review.

(okay, maybe a little better.)

"yes," she sighs, calming down, "i have faith in you. your damaged sense of humour is, indeed... re-parable!"

the glowing something in the narrator grows two sizes, and whatever's been rising in him forces itself out... in the shape of an identical laugh. the sound's so ridiculous, it makes him laugh even more... if he had a body, he would make sure to slap his knee like they do in old human movies. that's always looked fun, he thinks.

her grin appears to grow at his reaction. it is nice, he thinks, to have some jokes besides your own to laugh at.

it takes them both a minute to calm down, but when they do, the silence is noticeably less heavy.

"i suppose," smiles toriel, "that stanley is not the humorous type?"

"no," the narrator replies, rather out of breath. "i told him bucket jokes for over an hour once. he didn't even flinch."

"do you think it is perhaps because you followed the rules of those instructional videos you mentioned?"

he sighs, but she can hear the smile in his voice. "oh, can you really blame me? they were the only point of reference i had. anyway, the jokes were funny! they were! i swear, i'll never understand him."

at that, toriel looks thoughtful. "they are confusing... are they not?"

the narrator's about to agree profusely, but then he recalls her question from earlier, the one that started them on this curious path in the first place...

he clears his non-throat, trying to adopt a more serious, yet not quite grave tone. god, he thinks, this is turning out to be harder than he ever expected.

"i..."

nothing comes to him. what could he possibly say?

i've lost stanley so many times, in so many ways, it's not funny? he never listens to me either, and he dies for it too? if you think YOU'VE failed as a guide, just wait until you hear about this incident with the staircase-

but some other part of him, the part that just saw a woman fall apart in seconds thinking of her regrets, rises up above these awful memories and steadies him, and for once, his worry doesn't expand to fill the whole space like a big balloon.

"yes?" toriel asks, searching the room for something to focus on in the absence of a real face and body.

"i think," he says, hoping it's obvious that he's not serious, "that humans are just about the weirdest damned creatures i've ever met. don't you?"

she stares into space for a moment, then fixes her eyes on the fireplace with a grin.

"you must admit, though, that they never cease to impress."

he laughs. "ha! 'impress' is one word for it. stanley once sword-fought an eldritch beast born from a bucket and WON!"

toriel giggles, clapping her paws. "i would love to meet this stanley of yours! he sounds like quite the character."

he's the MAIN character, the narrator thinks, and the best one i could ask for. he doesn't voice this thought.

suddenly, toriel's eyes light up. "in fact, i am certain he and frisk would get along splendidly! frisk would love their very own reassurance bucket!"

the thought makes the narrator chuckle and shudder in dread at the same time. "i'm sure they would. and that's why i don't know if that's such a good idea. didn't you say frisk fought the entire underground and won every time? i wouldn't want stanley getting strange ideas about rebellion or things like that-"

at that moment, the door to frisk's bedroom brushes open just a crack, making the narrator jump in his own metaphysical way.

the child still looks half asleep in their blue-and-pink striped jumper, one eye still squeezed shut and with a terrific case of bedhead as they lean on the doorway, and as they look around dazedly, the narrator reconciles their image with every stock photo of human children he's ever seen, and thinks: yeah, that checks out.

"mom?" frisk signs, their hands taking a minute to orient themselves, presumably out of tiredness. the narrator feels a tinge of guilt for waking them up. "i thought i heard you talking to someone..."

toriel blinks, seeming a little surprised, then moves quickly over to her sleepy child. "oh! oh, my, i am very sorry, my child... did we wake you?" she kneels down, smoothing their ruffled hair. "we will be quieter."

frisk looks past her, confused. "but... who are you talking to? i don't see anyone."

the awkwardness of having to interact with a child is just now hitting the narrator, he discovers as toriel attempts to explain the faceless, incorporeal, omnipotent, extradimensional being in their home.

"oh, no, my child, some things cannot be seen... mister narrator, would you say hello?"

oh. saying hello to a child. all right. this is fine. the narrator clears his head and says, "well, hello there, sport-o! smashing jumper you've got there! i hear you can cheat death. that affect your grades at all?"

toriel just stares. frisk fixates on one specific point on the floor, eyes wider than dinner plates at the sudden voice seemingly coming from nowhere.

really, thinks the narrator, he should be awarded for having no body and yet still somehow managing to very skillfully put his foot in his mouth.

(frisk's seen too much to be fazed, though. as far as they're concerned, a new person is a chance at friendship and some pie- both of which they receive in the hours after the narrator apologizes profusely.)

[the-illiterate-pirate]

IT'S STILL MAY, BITCH, I'M NOT LATE

I never realized how much I suck at writing continuations of shit, I don't think you'll be seeing any multi chapter works from me (after this is over at least) not much happens in this chapter, shockingly, considering it's almost 2k words, but I hope you'll enjoy your cutey seal boyfriend trying to make his move

Selkie out of Water ⟨prt 2

First Dates?

<- Read chapter one here! Next chapter is here ->

No real warnings or notes except mentions of alcohol and reader being hungover

Your hangover woke you up in the most hateful way. Pain needled its way to your brain like a vice, squeezing and squeezing until it felt like you'd pop. Since it was your first week in town, and you only grabbed the necessary items for being on your own at such short notice you didn't have any medication for your headaches. Damn... Guess you had to go to the market today. In the heat... And sun... And crowded streets.

Oh, dear God.

You sighed and forced yourself out of bed, crawling on the floor to your connected bathroom to wash your face and find clothing. Everything felt crusty, including your throat. Nothing seemed to work for your aching body. Luckily you found a dusty old forgotten sun hat while looking for an oversized shirt to pull on. Hopefully that'd help fight against the sun.

Another deep breath, you braced for the outside. The hat helped some but the light still fought through the weaved hats tiniest holes. An ocean breeze carrying fish and salt assaulted your nose, but it wasn't really unpleasant, although nauseating. But you didn't get a foot out your door when it connected with something waiting for you. Wrapped in parchment and tied with a twine bow, it sat innocently on the welcome damp. Just slightly wet to the touch and warmed by the sun. Curious, and not at all worried about danger in such a quaint town, you took it inside and carefully unwrapped the twine. Inside the folded parchment was a note in lined paper, another paper with a sketch... And a clam? You set it aside in favor of reading the note first. It stuck to itself a little, and the ink bled a bit but it was still readable.

Welcome to our home. I hope you enjoy yourself here. Please meet me at the beach before sundown, near the pier.

How odd. Not even a week here and you've already caught someone's attention! For better or for worse... The note didn't end in a signature either. Could it be a neighbor interested in getting to know you? Maybe someone you conversed with at the Silver Moon celebration last night? Maybe even a pretty stranger interested in you..? That last thought was nice, but it's best not to indulge in it. You set aside the lined paper to check out the next. This one was less wet and was treated more carefully. It was a beautiful sketch of the ocean, with the moon high in the sky and expertly dotted stars and sand, and the pier in question from the note. If it was in color, surely it would've transported you to the location, but here to stayed looking over the beautiful art. This one done in pencil, and although it wasn't soaked like it's partner, you saw the soft droplets of water that added to the corner of the ripped paper. Seeing the piece made your heart ache for the time this artist spent to give you this wonderful ocean view.

And finally, the clam. It was clean, but what a strange thing to add to a welcome gift, until you opened it. What was left inside was the single pearl it made itself. It reflected your kitchen light and shone light pink like a cloudy summer afternoon. Its shape was imperfect and wobbled awkwardly in its shell, but it was beautiful.

Where did they get this?

You had to shake yourself away from your sentimental thoughts. Gently, you put the clam and notes down on the kitchen island and ran out the door, ignoring the heat threatening to kill you. If it was true that this wonderful being was waiting for you, you definitely didn't want to keep them waiting. After killing time outside, and getting pain meds, of course.

The trip to the pharmacy wasn't as bad as expected. Maybe the population of town was a lot smaller than you originally thought, it wasn't anything like the city. And despite not fitting in with crowds and being a sore thumb compared to everyone else, the people here were super friendly! An older couple pointed you in the direction of a building you could buy medication for headaches, and a store clurk even offered a banana free of charge after seeing the wretched state you were in. The people here were so lovely, a complete contrast to the wretched city. Every day proved that the move was a brilliant idea!

Getting your medicine was a cinch and now you waited for it to sooth away your pain after downing your water bottle, and blowing time at cute stores and getting some groceries for dinner. By the time you left the shopping street you turned to your phone to see it was–

Five PM already?! How long were you asleep for? How long did you stay at the shopping district?! And how much money did you blow..? That didn't matter right now, you'd miss your hot beach date! With canvas bag in hand, you ran down the streets to the setting sun.

"Are you sure you're not rushing things?" His friend stood stalk still, waiting to pounce, using their shed as a cover.

"You tell me. I've never courted someone before."

....

"It's been a couple hours. Think she decided not to come?"

"You can leave, you know. I'll wait myself." The one in blue finally snapped and turned to eye his friend with an icy eye.

"Suit yourself..." The one introduced as Anasui paddled away deeper into the water, vibrant pink tail splashing after him.

So Weather Report waited in tense silence by himself now, just a little ways away from the pier in the shade, his second skin hanging over his shoulders. His fingers scratched nervously into the peeling red paint of the shed as he waited more.

Did you really decide not to come?

No! There you were! Weather watched you skip over stairs down to the sandy beach, excited even, as his own electrifying glee rocked through his bones.

He would do this. Weather Report would step away from the building and introduce himself. He'd thank you for giving him his coat back during the party. Afterwards maybe you could converse and get to know each other better... Maybe you would grow to enjoy his company even. He hoped you enjoyed the clam he picked out for you. Or would you prefer a blue pearl instead?

He watched you take a deep breath and relax, then push the hair out of your eyes that kept getting caught in the wind. The little gesture made his heart squeeze in an awkward way. You truly did look pretty in the natural light.

He could do this.

You twisted left and right. Maybe looking for him? It was so tempting to run to you and pull you into his arms, and feel you breath against his chest and smell your scent. He wanted to so bad... Surely you'd think he was a creep though. Did you even remember his face? You must've been drunk, like a lot of people at the party last night, he realized as his shoulders began to slump.

I would make a fool of myself if I talked to her now.... Diver Down was right, it was too soon, I'll need to wait at least three more days of courting to be on speaking terms with her.

He couldn't do this.

....But you were right there. To know the target of your admiration was standing in front of him burned Weather so.

Maybe... Maybe he could do something else, he realized as his nails subconsciously wrapped his seal skin closer to his body. He couldn't tell you his secret just yet... But maybe he could use that against you.

You gave up on looking and collapsed into the sand. There wasn't anyone else on the beach, it was totally empty. Even the birds didn't want to land. It seemed like all at once people disappeared and left you all alone at the beach. Your head hurt a little worse than before. You were too late, they must've been long gone by now.

"Damn, this really sucks... So much for meeting new people." You sighed, taking your chin into your hand and leaning against your knee.

But could you blame them? The air was hot and so was the sand, and the ocean didn't help with the humidity.

At least the sunset looked nice. Maybe you'd stick around to watch. Maybe do things that people would normally do on the beach, like look for new shells or find a bottle containing a lovely letter.

There was a noise at your side. It wasn't much of a squeak but it wasn't anything you've heard before. After checking out the beach to your left you saw a bouncing ball of white fur.

Oh my god. It was a seal.

And it was the cutest thing! It was too big to be a baby, but they had the big black eyes and the fluffiest coat. It made more noises as it bounced through the sand to introduce itself to you sniffing at your shoes and bumping their head against your knee once the animal was close enough. It was hard to control yourself. Every inch of your being wanted to throw itself at the fuzzy creature, but you feared that would scare it away! As you slowly lifted your hand, the seal stared up at you with those big eyes and booped his nose against your open palm. Your heart immediately melted, and you cooed softly at the animal, patting his fluffy head gently.

"Hey big guy! Gosh, you're too cute~!" You babbled endlessly as you forced your love onto him. But the seal didn't mind, he warbled more and dug deeper into your hand, closing his eyes in contentment. The headaches and your failed meeting was forgotten in favor of the cutey in front of you.

"You've gotta be the prettiest babe in the whole town! Say, you didn't happen to write a note for little ole me, did you?"

He seemed surprised, you could almost see the whites of his eyes with how big they got. You only laughed it off and scratched at his chin. "I'm just joking. But I would be impressed if you could hold a pen... Between you and me, I'm pretty glad you decided to show up instead of whoever sent that note." He cooed again but you took it for more noises for attention. Unbeknownst, the seal was sad you thought that way. Weather Report wanted to apologize deeply for upsetting you. He felt miserable inside... But the warm hand on his head helped a little. Someday, he promised.

One day I'll propose and tell her the truth. And if that fails... Well, I'll stay to plan B, maybe she'll enjoy my company better as a seal.

That really didn't help him feel better. Weather Report let out a silent sigh and continued to appreciate your work on his fur as he thought about his next gift to lay on your door step.

[17caratssi]

Wonwoo! Will you stay

Jeon Wonwoo! A short series pt one | two | three | four

Lub-dub lub-dub lub-dub! It was so close AHHH! That was a bold move! I can't believe he didn't throw me off!!

You're over the moon for the rest of the day. You have been under the weather for some days, and your parents are worried about it. Seeing you like this, they feel at ease.

You begin to anticipate tomorrow. Will your relationship with Wonwoo turn for the better? This is what makes school exciting!

However, Wonwoo feigns ignorance whenever you try to have a conversation with him. It goes on for another two days, and he still has nothing to say to you.

Not to mention, Somi and Umji also avoid talking about him during the break. They never answer your questions regarding Wonwoo, and it put you into a dispiriting mood again.

In the aftermath, you lose concentration during the computer class. In fact, your head is full of him. Your two best friends give you hints about Wonwoo's matter, but they're just superficial.

My mind is a mess.

After the class, you block Wonwoo's seatmate's path and begin questioning- more like interrogating.

"Tell me, is there any problem Wonwoo is having these days?"

Kihyun averts from your scrutiny. He refuses to talk.

"Come on, tell me," you persuade him into confessing. As a seatmate, he must know a tiny bit about Wonwoo. "I won't tell him that it's you who said to me. Sounds good?"

"He's not stupid,"

That's very true. Hmm...

"I will bear the responsibility. Just spill it," you convince him. This time, you're sure you'll get to the matter.

Kihyun sighs.

"A few third-year students have been picking up fights with him. I think Wonwoo was triggered by something they said. By the way, I remind you of a thing,"

"You shouldn't be near to him. You know that he's a scholarship boy, right? There's an unspoken rule here in Sejong High..."

That's your wake-up call. No wonder Wonwoo calls you 'stuck-up rich kid', and now you realize that you might've looked down on him, unintentionally.

He was right. I'm a stuck-up rich kid with no shame.

Although Kihyun tells you all that, you're still on the surface. What has possibly put him off at that time? You want to know more.

As you walk to the cafeteria, Somi and Umji are busy talking about the former's boyfriend.

"My boyfriend's birthday is coming but I don't know what to give him," Somi sounds helpless as she snakes her arms around yours and Umji's.

You don't put your focus on her, so you don't reply.

Umji thinks for a while before sharing her idea. "Your boyfriend is rich enough to buy everything so what if you bake him something? That'd be rather special- at least for me,"

They never stop afterwards. It amuses you that the two has yet to have their topics exhausted. They keep going on!

After getting the snack, the three of you is about to return to class but is stopped by the crowd. They run toward the field.

"The new kid is fighting with a senior!"

"Damn, he's got gut!"

Somi and Umji simultaneously peek at your expression. "Wonwoo? Hey Y/N! Oh my god, don't tell me-"

"Wait for us, Y/N!"

Half of the first-year students watch the fray. Some are cheering for the guy senior, and you panic.

Your imagination runs wild. As much as you hate seeing a fight erupts, you hope Wonwoo isn't the one receiving the senior's blow!

Your small frame slips easily through the throng, and the situation shocks you.

Umji manages to catch you while Somi's being pulled away by her boyfriend. "We better go now!" she gives you a quick pull but you're not moving an inch. She frantically observes the situation and heaves a sigh at the sight of the security.

"WHAT ALL OF YOU DOING HERE?" The security runs faster to the crowd and breaks off the fight. Wonwoo huffs and puffs; showing his dissatisfaction toward the guy he had punched.

The senior has a gang; they help him up. Wonwoo is the one left unattended since he's alone. You watch him from the side and is on the horns of a dilemma.

You know it's no good if you go help Wonwoo now with all the attention directed to him.

Out of the blue, one of the seniors speaks up. "Apologize to Juwon and we'll act nothing happened just now," It's obvious he's intended to embarrass Wonwoo in front of many students.

He smirks when his words hit the target. Mutterings are loud in the air as the audiences express their opinions.

"Wonwoo, don't apologize!" you yell. Your voice was loud enough for the circle to pay heed to you. You cower as a response and Umji slaps your arm.

The senior snickers and voices out again."Boy, you better give in to him. His father is a person you couldn't afford to offend,"

Juwon slouches against his friend and finally says something at his friends. "If he doesn't want to admit defeat, we can take this matter to the teachers. Let's see if this parasite can win against me," he sneers.

The involved parties are eventually called to the office. You insist to accompany Wonwoo and he has nothing to say about it.

"I'm on your side, Wonwoo! Don't be scared of them. If anything happens, I'll protect you!" your fingers clench and you look up to Wonwoo who's quiet since the row had ended. Little did you know, he takes a quick glance right after you turn your head.

'Just what this meek creature can do...'

-

The time in the office feels tedious. Wonwoo hates the rich kids that are only good at blabbering and settle everything with their parent's standings.

"I won't call my parents just for this trivial matter but I have one condition,"

The teachers think the senior makes a great deal with Wonwoo, and since they don't want to be visited by the superior parents they push him to seize the offer.

You and Wonwoo leave the place as soon as they agreed with the deal. Wonwoo remains silent.

"They're so childish! That's more like punishment," you huff with your arms crossed. You can't believe the senior wants Wonwoo to be the ball boy for the basketball club.

"Why do you like to intervene?"

"Huh?" you stutter. This is the first time you get to hear his voice today.

"To be honest, I don't know,' you shrug. Your body and mind seem to be unallied when it comes to him. Even the latter warns you to not get entangled with other's business, the former just ignores and go with it.

"By the way, don't you think the senior is more stuck-up than me?" You ask excitedly as you lean to him and wait for his response. You want to change the impression he has about you.

Wonwoo takes in the view in front of him as he faces your question. Surprisingly, he feels less irritated by it.

He slows down his walking pace as he takes notice of yours. Wonwoo holds his hands at his back and fakes a thought.

After enjoying the hopefulness in your eyes, he gives the answer. "It seems like it," he says.

Due to the revelation from Wonwoo himself, you cover your mouth in excitement. Wonwoo watches as you turn tomato from his word and walks ahead.

In a hurry, you ask. "So you'll naturally sign up with the basketball club?" He raises his shoulder slightly and then nods.

Your heart soars louder and unintentionally, it echoes across the hallway. "Got it! I'm coming too!"

Since then, your life has revolved around Wonwoo. Occasionally, he would ask for personal spaces, and even though his changes are almost negligible, you don't mind.

Being around him the whole day is fun. You get to know his habits, his favourite food and drink, or basically all about him. Not, you do seem like an ordinary girl chasing after a guy.

Wonwoo, on the other hand, feels like he has a friend. He ghosts you daily, but your presence fills a spot next to him.

The two of you get accepted into the basketball club. Every Tuesday, Wonwoo will stay at school for two hours to be the ball boy. Not that everyone tries to be silent about it, but there's this girl who keeps waiting for the guy.

She's pretty, and her hair compliments her exquisite, doll-like features.

She never pays attention to other guys as if her eyes are glued to the ball boy. The green-eyed seniors want to embarrass Wonwoo even more because of that.

"Hey ball boy, the bottles are empty. Refill them!" the senior who took Wonwo's punches shouts. You quickly get up and help Wonwoo. "Let me help!"

Wonwoo lets you take 2 bottles as he carries the other 6. "Go home after we go back,"

"Why? I want to stay with you,"

Wonwoo has no idea whether you intended to flirt with him or casually announced that, but surely, he is flustered.

He regains composure and gives a response.

"What a dimwit," the seniors are gawking at you, and you overlook that?

He wishes he could deliver that very sentence, but he may sound jealous. Well, I'm not.

"I'm here to protect you, didn't I say that before? So, stop pushing me away cuz I won't leave you."

You don't realize that your attendance by Wonwoo's side just creates another problem for him. His workload increases by tenfold due to the green-eyed seniors.

Once the game is over, Wonwoo fulfils his duty and cleans the court. In the meantime, you listen to songs on the bench.

Wonwoo has done a lot of work and this is one nothing to him. He finishes just when everyone exits the place. He thinks that you might have returned home. You aren't there when he checks out the place you've been sitting at.

Only when he walks out the hall that he accidentally eavesdrops on the conversation between you and the seniors.

He could guess the topic and he looks at the corner. If he steps just a bit forward, they will see him. And he does that.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he then presents himself.

"Just say no if you don't want to be his girlfriend. Don't waste your time,"

Enlightened, you turn the senior down and run to Wonwoo. You complain at how bad his proposal was and Wonwoo chuckles.

"What do you do at the weekend?" as you wait for your chauffeur, you build a conversation with him.

Wonwoo isn't a person to be so friendly with someone. He thinks for a while as he contemplates to answer the question.

"Study in the library,"

Wonwoo is a smart student, and his answer doesn't come off as a surprise to you. "I've never been to a library before. I meant in this area but which one do you frequent?"

There are only two libraries in the area, and Wonwoo has only been to the small one since it's closer.

"Ooh, OK then." swiftly, you take a note of it. Just right after that, you see your family car drifts into the parking lot. "Oh! My car's here. I have to go now." you wave at him in a distance and shout. "Don't stay too long under the sunlight! Bye-bye!" then you disappear into the car.

When you arrive at the library on Saturday, you quickly scan the area for him. Lucky you the place is just up to your energy to find him.

You stride from one isle to another. It's probably the physics section when you find a familiar back.

"Hey," you whisper from the back. Wonwoo is so immersed in his reading and you bet he wouldn't have noticed you if you hadn't appeared before him after that call.

With a cheeky smile, you say. "Let's go out,"

He examines the surroundings and realizes that you come alone. "What are you doing here?" his volume is practically below scolding to avoid making a fuss in the quiet place.

"You ask too much! Come on," You jog to his side and help him pack his stuff.

"I only ask once, and I did not agree to you,"

Not bringing too many necessities, you wind up less than a minute. "Shh... Just come with me, will you?"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

If you like this story, you might as well check out the others here !

[ming-yu-hao]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder | Chapter 3

Pairing: fratboy!mingyu x female reader

Word Count: 6k

Synopsis: When you transferred to a different university, you and Wonwoo promised that you would make long distance work. But distance proves to be more difficult than you both originally thought.

This Chapter’s Tags: angst, protected sex, finger sucking, grinding, light choking/spanking/dirty talk, mingyu just being an ass man, riding, cheating obviously

Warning: THIS SERIES IS ABOUT CHEATING. DO NOT READ IF IT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!

A/N: Y’ALLLLL I’m sorry this took me forever to upload... I just got super busy but there won’t be as long as a wait for the next chapter! As always feedback is appreciated and I hope you guys like this :)

Chapters: Previous | Next | Masterlist

Your knees quivered beneath you as you pulled the soft fabric of your leggings up your thighs and over your hips. You bent down to pick up your shirt that was still balled up on the floor, and when you stood again you could hear the bed rustle behind you as Mingyu shifted his weight.

Guilt didn't hit you until you slipped your shirt back over your head, fully dressing yourself once again.

What had you done?

Without looking at him, you spoke: "I think I should go now."

He was silent.

You stepped over to the door, your hand about to twist the knob when he finally called out to you.

"Y/N."

You looked at him. He was sitting up on his bed; his dark hair was a mess, hanging over his forehead. His lips were parted like he didn't know what to say.

"Um, don't forget your jacket. It's cold outside." He pointed to your jacket that was still discarded on the floor.

"Oh, thanks," you said with your voice wavering. You quickly picked up the jacket and headed for the door again.

"Text me when you get home, okay?" Mingyu rushed to say. The corners of his mouth quirked up into a thin, awkward smile and you nodded your head in response.

Why did he suddenly care? He used to just be some guy you sat next to in class. When did he want to become your friend? When did he start to become protective over you? Was this all really just because of his half-drunken encounter with you at that party? Did the moment you two shared that night cause him to feel some kind of attachment to you? Thinking about it all made your head spin. Nothing made sense to you anymore.

You turned the knob and cracked open the door when Mingyu spoke again.

"Um, also... you know, if you ever need anything... I'm here for you." His voice shook a bit.

You exhaled. "Thank you."

You slipped out of his room before he could say anything else and stepped down the stairs quietly, attempting to dart out the front door before anyone could see you. There was a small group of people hanging out in the living room like Mingyu had said, their laughter and conversations loud and echoing through the house.

When you reached the bottom of the stairs, you kept your gaze down at your feet while you scanned the floor for your shoes.

"Y/N?" You heard a voice call from behind you.

You huffed out a quiet breath in frustration before turning around with an overly sweet smile on your face. Your eyes landed on Seungcheol.

"Oh, hey! It's weird not seeing Jisoo following you around." You joked.

Seungcheol smiled sheepishly. "Yeah..." He trailed off, looking down at the ground.

"Are you guys dating?" You probed with a raised eyebrow.

"I wanted to talk to you about that, actually." He admitted, making eye contact with you. Curiosity plagued you, and you stared at him expectantly as you waited for him to speak. "I wanna do something special for her when I ask her out... just cause, I don't know, I really like her." He stammered nervously, lowering his voice so no one could eavesdrop.

You gave him a genuine smile. You were happy that Jisoo had found someone that truly liked her. Ever since the beginning of the semester, she had been cycling through an array of terrible guys that used and ghosted her. Seungcheol seemed like a genuinely good person; you trusted him to take care of her.

You brought your hand to your chin as you pondered for a moment. "Well, if I'm being honest, she's, like, a huge hopeless romantic. Loves cheesy romance movies and stuff." You started, "If you took her out to a nice dinner and walked around some really pretty, romantic place after, that'd be her dream come true."

Seungcheol nodded, his eyes glazed over in deep thought as he acknowledged your advice. "Yeah, that sounds like her." He smiled. "Thanks."

You nodded. "So... how did the raffle go?"

"It went really good, actually." He responded, shoving his hands in his pockets. "The money's going to a child psychology organization. I've been doing research with them for a few months now."

Your eyes lit up in interest at his story. "That's really cool. Have you discovered any groundbreaking research yet?" You half-joked.

He chuckled, "I guess a little bit."

A lightbulb suddenly went off in your brain. "Hey, do you think I could interview you about all this research stuff you've done? I need to write an article for class."

Seungcheol shrugged. "Sure."

You spent the next few minutes probing him about how he got involved in the program, what he had been researching, his motivation to study child psychology—all while taking down notes on your phone. He explained to you how he had struggled with anxiety his whole life and wanted to find a way to help others. In the back of your mind, this was all affirming why he was such a good match for Jisoo. He was caring, passionate, charitable. Your heart warmed at the thought of Jisoo finally settling down with someone who was actually a good person.

Your interview came to an end and you thanked Seungcheol for helping you out. He nodded before glancing down at the jacket you were carrying in your arms.

"Were you planning on leaving?" He asked.

"Yeah, I need to go work on homework and stuff." You answered.

He attempted to suppress his smirk by biting his lip. "You and Mingyu didn't get much work done together?" He raised his eyebrows at you.

You felt your heart drop into your stomach. "What?"

"Relax, I'm just kidding." Seungcheol laughed. "He just seemed comfortable with you earlier, you know?"

The tension in your stomach loosened a little as you realized that he didn't actually know what happened between you two. This is exactly what Mingyu was worried about earlier. So it was true that Seungcheol liked to play matchmaker and get involved in everyone else's relationships.

"There's nothing going on between you guys?" Seungcheol questioned after you didn't respond.

You felt your cheeks grow hot with irritation. "No. I have a boyfriend." You said curtly.

Seungcheol's mouth formed an O-shape at the sudden coldness in your tone. "I-I'm sorry, I was just kidding." He quickly apologized.

"It's okay." You sighed. You glanced around for your shoes, avoiding his regretful gaze.

"Well, I really have to get going. Thanks for helping me out." You said as you slipped on your shoes.

He smiled apologetically and walked you over to the door. "See you, Y/N!" He called behind you as you stepped out into the cold.

You buried yourself in work for the next two days. You figured it was easier to just get lost in the flow of doing assignment after assignment rather than to think about what happened.

But no matter what you did, your mind still wandered back to that moment—when your lips finally met Mingyu's, and his body pressed against yours.

The worst part was that you didn't even try to stop him: you had agreed to it, and God, you even thanked him for it! You weren't even sure if you could regret what happened. You hated yourself for betraying Wonwoo's trust, but at the same time you craved attention and affection. Mingyu just happened to be the one that fulfilled your wishes after all this time.

You would never tell Mingyu that, of course. Honestly, you were unsure if you could even face him about it. He could tell that you felt guilty afterwards. If you just finished this stupid project and avoided him for the rest of the semester, he would probably get the hint and leave you alone.

It was Saturday evening when you typed the last words of your article on Seungcheol and his research. You hadn't talked to Mingyu since you left his room on Thursday night, but you needed him to complete his share of the work. Sighing, you picked up your phone and pulled up your messages with him. You quickly explained what kind of pictures he needed to take and told him to send them to you (so you could avoid seeing him anymore than you needed to).

You clicked out of your conversation, and that's when your eyes landed on the messages that were still unread by Wonwoo. You wanted to ask him what he was doing, but after three days with no response, it felt pathetic to even attempt to strike up a conversation now.

The sound of the door knob jiggling startled you before Jisoo busted into the room a moment later.

"Y/N!" She cheered in a sing-song voice. "We have another party to go to tonight!"

You already knew exactly where this party was going to be, and you felt your stomach drop at the thought of running into Mingyu.

You shook your head. "No way, Jisoo. I'm way too busy." You lied.

She pouted her lips at you. "Really? You've been working nonstop. How're you still not done?"

You shrugged and let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Well, you can take a break for a few hours. I promise I won't leave you this time. You can hangout with me and Cheol." She begged, looking at you with wide, saddened eyes.

Your phone vibrated between your hands, and when you glanced down you saw Mingyu's name on the screen.

Mingyu: I'm actually gonna be out studying and working on some stuff with a friend tonight. I promise I'll get the pics for you tomorrow :) Sent at 7:37 PM

You thought it was a little weird for a guy like Mingyu to be studying on a Saturday night, but when you realized that he wouldn't be at the party, relief flooded over you.

You looked up at Jisoo and saw her still expectantly staring at you, waiting for your response.

"I- I guess I could go for a bit."

"YES!" Seungkwan shrieked as he successfully landed another ball in one of Jisoo's cups. He turned to you and wildly smacked your palm in a high five, nearly hitting you in the face. Your stomach was starting to hurt from laughing for the past ten minutes over the intense match of beer pong in front of you.

The crowd around the table reacted loudly, some cheering and some booing as Jisoo downed another cup of alcohol. She shivered at the taste and Seungcheol came up from behind to pat her on the back. His lips moved as he said something to her, but with music blasting through the house so loud, you couldn't make out a single word.

Your phone vibrated in your back pocket. Without much thought, you pulled it out and quickly glanced at the screen.

Your heart sank into your stomach as you realized: Wonwoo was calling.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath. You had completely forgotten that Saturday's were now reserved for your FaceTime dates.

You looked up at everyone with wide eyes, but they were too immersed in the game to notice your reaction. You pushed your way through the crowd and slipped into the bathroom before Jisoo or anyone else could come looking for you.

By the time you reached the bathroom and locked the door, the FaceTime call had already stopped ringing. Leaning against the door, you scrolled through your contacts and called back, but only as a phone call.

Wonwoo answered after two rings.

"Hey, everything alright?" He asked.

You swallowed. "Uh... yeah."

"Why didn't you FaceTime?" He continued. You hesitated, but then he spoke before you could say anything. "Why is it so loud? Where are you?"

You cursed yourself for not running away to a room that was farther away from all the music and noise outside the door. Fidgeting with your fingers, you answered: "A party."

"Oookay," he scoffed. "You could've at least let me know if you were gonna go out. But it's fine. Have fun, I guess." He responded coldly.

Your brows furrowed together instinctively. Now it was your turn to scoff at him. "You're not serious, are you?" The skin of your face grew warmer. Wonwoo was quiet. "I forgot. Sorry." You admitted through grit teeth.

"Why're you so mad?" He questioned in a defensive tone.

You rolled your eyes. "This is the first time I've ever cancelled on you and it was an accident. Do I need to remind you of all the times you ditched me?"

Wonwoo didn't respond.

"And what the fuck have you been doing the past three days that you couldn't respond to me?" You spat. Blood was rushing through your veins quickly now as anger took over.

He sighed through the receiver. "I was busy."

"Does it really take that much time to send a text to your fucking girlfriend?" Your voice began to rise. "How do you expect this to work if you don't even talk to me?"

"I'm sor-" He began to speak, but you interrupted him.

"You know, sometimes it feels like I'm dating nobody!" You cried. "Do you even realize how lonely I feel?" Your voice shook with each word as your throat grew tighter; tears welled up in your eyes. You didn't want to cry, but all the frustration you had bottled up the past couple months was finally spilling over.

In a calm voice, all Wonwoo said was: "I'm trying."

"Not hard enough." You scoffed.

"What the fuck, Y/N? Where is this coming from?" He cried. The sudden rise in his voice startled you a bit.

The phone shook in your grasp. "You act like I don't even exist! How can you call that trying?"

"Fuck, I'm not dealing with this right now. Go back to your stupid fucking party." He snapped.

"Yeah, just go and ignore me again!" You laughed sardonically.

The three tones of the call ending sounded abruptly. You looked down at your phone in shock. He had hung up on you.

Your hands balled into fists as you threw your head back against the door. Your jaw was tense, but your bottom lip still quivered.

He had done it again. It seemed it was becoming easy for him at this point—abandoning you when you needed him.

This wasn't going to last much longer if the two of you couldn't figure this out.

When you pressed your lips into a thin line, tears slipped down, staining the bags under your eyes with makeup.

Was he giving up on you?

Your head began to pound. You couldn't stand being in this hot bathroom any longer, much less this party in general. You wiped your cheeks with the back of your hand and turned to unlock the door.

As you took a step out of the bathroom, you kept your gaze locked on your feet; you didn't want anyone to notice the state you were currently in.

Not even a moment after opening the door, you collided with a tall, warm body.

"Sorry," you mumbled, pushing past.

"Y/N?" A familiar voice called. Strong hands grasped your forearm, and you glanced up at the figure.

Mingyu.

What force was bringing you back to him once again?

His lips parted in a small gasp as he noticed the redness in your tearful eyes. "Hey, what's wrong? Come here."

Before you could protest, he guided you back into the bathroom, closing and locking the door so no one could bother you two.

You kept your eyes down at the ground, unable to look at him. As he approached you, the heat of his skin radiated against you.

"I thought you were out studying." You spoke, breaking the silence.

Mingyu's hands found your jaw. He ran the smooth skin of his thumbs over your cheeks, wiping the tears that remained. "I finished early," he explained.

"Look at me," Mingyu whispered. You swallowed and blinked before meeting his eyes.

You didn't notice the thin, black-rimmed glasses that were resting on his nose before. His dark hair was pushed back, and his tan skin glowed under the bathroom light. You hated how instinctively drawn you felt to his presence.

You started to think that Kim Mingyu might be the Devil, disguised in the form of a beautiful boy that always knew the right words to say. He was here to tempt you, to swindle you at your most vulnerable moments, to test your fidelity. And you were weak enough to cave in.

"Is it your boyfriend?" He asked.

The gaze he held on you was so intense that you found yourself staring at the frames of his glasses instead of his eyes. You nodded silently in response to his question.

"Talk to me. What happened?" Mingyu cooed as he stroked your cheeks with his thumbs.

"I-" You started, but let out a sigh instead. "We just fought. I don't know. I don't wanna talk about it." You rambled.

"Okay," he nodded. "Sorry if I pushed it." He removed his hands from your face. The skin suddenly felt cold without his touch.

He sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. "We can talk about something else."

You stood still, nodding, but couldn't think of anything to say.

"You know," Mingyu started, "You look really pretty. Even when you're crying." Your skin flushed at the compliment.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you wiped the last remnants of makeup off your cheeks. "Is that your go-to line for every girl?" You joked.

"No," he replied. "Just cause I'm in a frat doesn't mean I'm a douche."

You snickered under your breath. "Yeah, but there's gotta be so many girls that hit on you."

"There's some," he shrugged. "Doesn't mean I flirt back."

Your legs were beginning to grow tired from standing, so you walked over to the counter and sat on the edge. You gripped the ledge to keep your balance, swinging your legs back and forth.

Mingyu stood in his same spot, but turned in your direction. He quirked his eyebrows at you. "Are you suggesting that I'm attractive enough to have hundreds of girls swooning over me?" He shot you a teasing grin.

You chuckled and shook your head. "You wish."

Mingyu's jaw dropped in a fake expression of shock as he came closer to you, but he stood to the side to stare at himself in the mirror. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Since when do you wear glasses?" You inquired.

"Since forever." He replied.

Mingyu placed his hands on the edge of the counter, pushing his weight onto them. The muscles in his arms were prominent through his black shirt. Your eyes dragged across his figure, eventually landing on his face again.

"I like them. They look good." You said.

He glanced at you, his eyes laced with hints of suspicion. "Thanks," he said with his voice a little uneven. He cleared his throat and stood up straight. "Did I help get your mind off him a bit?"

You winced at the mention of Wonwoo, but nodded. "Yeah, you did. Thank you." You exhaled.

Mingyu smiled to himself and his eyes met yours once again. "Good. I feel like it's the least I can do to help."

As you stared at him, you admired his features—his soft, clear complexion and plump lips. You suddenly became aware of how close he was to you; his hand was resting only a few inches away from your thigh. Your mind thought back to how it felt when those hands caressed the bare skin of your body. Impulsively, your thighs pressed together at the revisitation of the memory.

The room felt like it had instantly shot up ten degrees, and the heat left your judgement clouded like a foggy mirror. If Mingyu really was the Devil, his plan was working.

You leaned towards him until your face was only a few inches from his. Your breath caught in your throat as you went to speak.

"I really wanna kiss you right now." You admitted quickly, your eyes focused on his lips.

Mingyu backed away. "Are you drunk?" He asked. His eyes were wide with concern as he scanned you.

You remained where you were, embarrassment creeping up on you as you rapidly shook your head. "I haven't drank anything."

Mingyu chewed on his bottom lip. "I- I don't think it's a good idea. After last time..." he trailed off, glancing up to peek at your reaction. "I don't want you to do something you'll regret again."

"I don't regret it." You blurted before you could stop yourself.

You weren't sure what you were doing or where you wanted to go with this, but you couldn't stop. A feeling of lust had possessed you at this point, controlling your every word and action.

Mingyu looked taken aback at your confession, standing up straighter. His lips were parted in uncertainty, but you watched as his eyes flicked down to look at your lips.

"You don't?" He asked, inching closer to you.

Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest now. You quickly shook your head. "No."

His right hand found a place to rest under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him as his face neared yours. He swiped his thumb over your bottom lip.

"Are you sure?" He whispered.

Desire had overcome you so strongly at this point that you couldn't bring yourself to answer him through words. Instead, you crashed your lips onto his.

Mingyu responded eagerly, his kisses fueled with the same amount of force. Your hands quickly found purchase on the nape of his neck, pulling his body closer to yours. Right as you spread your legs to allow him to stand in between them, Mingyu's tongue darted against your lips, slipping into your mouth when you parted your lips for him.

He placed his left hand on your inner thigh, roughly squeezing the flesh between his fingers as he deepened the kiss. You moaned into his mouth, and he dragged his other hand down to the small of your back to pull you closer to him.

Now your core was pressed against his. Mingyu removed his lips from yours, only to place open-mouthed kisses on the area below your ear. You jerked your hips up as he nibbled lightly on the skin, the friction between your thighs growing.

Your jaw hung open as your arousal increased with each moment; your breathing became heavy while you panted into his ear. He sucked on your collarbone, and a chill shot it's way up your spine. You whimpered loudly and you could feel Mingyu smirk against your skin.

"You sound so pretty," he mumbled, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. He lifted his head, his tongue poking out of his cheek while he observed you. Your head was thrown back, eyes half shut, and you were ever so slightly grinding your hips against his for the smallest bit of relief.

Mingyu brought his fingers up to your lips, tapping on the soft skin to catch your attention. "Suck," he said, watching as you obediently parted your lips for him. He shoved two of his fingers into your mouth and pressed them down against your tongue. You could feel wetness building up between your legs. Even though it wasn't anything extreme, Wonwoo never did stuff like this with you in bed. You had to admit, all the new things that Mingyu was introducing to you excited you.

You hummed against him as he stuffed your mouth, almost gagging when his fingers neared the back of your throat. You swirled your tongue around his digits before he quickly pulled them away. You opened your eyes, staring at him in confusion, but his hungry gaze was already locked in on your core. He fumbled with the button of your jeans, and you felt your arousal suddenly spike at the thought of his fingers inside you.

You helped him shuffle your jeans over your ass and down to your knees. He bit his lip as he stared at your clothed heat, his cock stiffening beneath his own jeans, and pressed his dampened fingers to your clit through the fabric of your underwear.

You gasped quietly at the contact, but it wasn't enough. "Mmh, Mingyu," you whined. "Please."

"So needy," he teased with a smirk on his lips. He slipped his fingers beneath the fabric, pressing into your slick folds. His breathing grew heavier. "How're you so wet? I barely even touched you." He breathed against your cheek before he pressed a soft kiss to it. You blushed at his teasing words.

Mingyu rubbed your clit in slow circles, spreading your arousal around your folds. He pressed his lips to yours again, swallowing the moans you were letting out. He dragged his fingers down your heat, teasing your entrance by avoiding it. You clenched around nothing.

"Mingyu, I need you," you muttered against his lips.

"My fingers?" He questioned teasingly, pushing the tips of his digits into your core.

Desire was eating away at you, clouding your thoughts and replacing them with lust-filled ones. You bucked your hips up into his hand, whimpering beneath him.

"No, I want... you." You panted, looking up at him. Embarrassment picked away at you due to your vague request. His eyes appeared even darker than usual as he stared down at you with lust, registering what you were asking for.

Just as he was about to speak, the door knob shook, followed by loud pounding on the door. You jumped, and Mingyu quickly pulled his fingers away from your heat, leaving you with nothing.

"Open up!" A voice called from outside the door. "I have to piss!"

Oh, how wonderful.

You looked to Mingyu with wide eyes, and he motioned for you to stand up. "Pull your pants up!" He shouted at you in a whisper as he wiped his hands on his jeans. He stepped away from the counter, pressing his lips together in frustration as he realized the tent in his pants was painfully obvious.

You pushed yourself off the counter, standing up with shaky legs as you quickly pulled your pants over your hips and re-buttoned them.

The door knob jiggled again. "I'm literally gonna piss myself if you don't open this door in five seconds!" The same voice cried.

"What do we do?" You whispered to Mingyu.

He sighed. "Get out of here as fast as possible and go to my room." Your stomach flipped at the mention of his bedroom; you were really about to go through with this. He reached his hand out for you to grab, and you took hold of it as he led you both to the door.

Mingyu fumbled with the lock, and the door busted open a moment later, revealing a very drunken boy on the other side. He looked both of you up and down. You ducked down slightly, attempting to hide your face behind Mingyu's broad shoulders.

"Fuck, Mingyu? Really? The bathroom?" The boy said with disgust.

Mingyu rolled his eyes, his hand squeezing yours tighter. "Fuck off, Soonyoung." He replied before rushing out of the bathroom with you following close behind.

You couldn't help giggling at Mingyu's comment. He glanced over his shoulder when he noticed you laughing, a smile finding its way to his own lips as he chuckled at you. "Was I too harsh?" He joked.

Mingyu dragged you through the house quickly, and when you reached the bottom of the stairs, he pushed you in front of him to lead the way. You rushed up the steps, and when you neared the top, a sudden smack was delivered to your butt.

You let out a cry, followed by laughter of disbelief. "Mingyu!" You exclaimed with your jaw dropped once you reached the top of the stairs.

Mingyu stood behind you, his hands gripping your waist. He giggled into your ear. "I'm sorry, your ass is so cute." He placed a soft peck to your cheek.

"Let's go," he whispered, his voice suddenly an octave lower. Your stomach twisted, and Mingyu began leading you towards his room with his hands still on your hips.

He let go of you to twist the knob and push the door open, but as soon as you stepped foot into his room, his hands found your waist again and hurriedly pushed you further past the door. He kicked the door closed behind him, pushing you up against the wood. His lips quickly found yours, kissing you with even more intensity than before.

You could barely catch your breath as Mingyu gave you more rough kisses. He was being taken over by lust; he pressed himself against you, allowing you to feel the hardness in his pants. You ran one hand from his shoulder down his chest and stomach, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt tensing at your touch. Finally you palmed him through his jeans and he groaned against your mouth.

"Fuck, you're driving me crazy." He whispered before placing one more messy kiss to your lips. He pulled away to slip his fingers under the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head quickly and tossing it to the floor. His lips found your neck again, and you moaned as his tongue darted out to lick your sensitive spot. His hands were on your ass, pulling you closer to him and squeezing the soft skin.

Your head rolled back. "Shit, Mingyu," you moaned. "I need you now."

Mingyu pulled away to look down at you with a grin on his face. "Yeah?" He raised his eyebrow. He spanked your ass lightly, causing you to whimper and lean into him. "Go to the bed." He demanded, stepping away from you.

You walked to the bed, trying to swing your hips to hide the nervous wobble in your knees. You felt Mingyu come up behind you, his body pressing against yours. His stiff cock was brushing against your thigh. You turned around, sitting on the edge of the bed as you looked up at him.

"When are you gonna take this off?" You questioned while toying with the fabric of his shirt.

He chewed on his lip as he smirked at you. Without a word, he pulled it over his head, exposing his muscular arms and toned chest. Your eyes dragged hungrily over his torso, drinking in the sight of the outline of his abs.

"Better?" He teased, interrupting your admiring of his body. You looked up at his face. His glasses still rested on his nose, but his hair was slightly disheveled and his lips were now pink and swollen from kissing yours. You were breathless. He was beautiful, and you wanted him so badly.

You perked up from the position you were sitting in, a surge of confidence driven by desire guiding you. "Lie down," you commanded. Mingyu looked taken aback for a moment as he processed your sudden dominance, but he just chuckled and laid down without protest.

Once his back was against the mattress and he was splayed out beneath you, you crawled up towards him, straddling his hips. You dragged your hands down his chest, admiring the softness and warmth of his skin while you began to grind against him.

Mingyu threw his head back as he moaned softly, and you felt yourself clench at the sound. You leaned down, pressing your chest to his as you left kisses on his neck. His hips bucked up into your center. The friction between your bodies was so intense it was driving you insane.

You felt his fingers drag across your spine, causing goosebumps to from across your skin. He fumbled with the clasp of your bra and pulled the straps down your arms. You sat up to fully pull it off and throw it somewhere in the room, and Mingyu quickly brought his hands to your breasts. He squeezed the sensitive buds, twisting your nipples between his fingers. You moaned and pressed your hips into his even harder.

"Ride me," Mingyu mumbled into your ear. Unable to form any words, you nodded, reaching for the button of his jeans.

You lifted yourself off him to help him unzip his pants, and once he started pulling them off you kneeled to the side to discard your own jeans. Just as you began pulling your underwear down your thighs, Mingyu reached for the nightstand next to his bed, shuffling around in the drawer and eventually pulling out a condom.

He pulled his cock out of his boxers, and it stood stiffly against his stomach. He quickly ripped open the package, sliding the latex over his shaft. You straddled his thighs again, about to sink yourself onto him when he quickly grabbed your hips.

"No, no." He said. "Turn around."

You looked at him in confusion. "But-"

"Just trust me," he added, pressing a soft kiss to your chest.

You turned around so your back was facing him, still straddling his thighs. He kept one hand on your waist as the other reached for his cock. He guided the stiff head through your folds, wetting his cock with your arousal. When the tip brushed against your clit you whimpered as you clenched around nothing again.

"Please, Mingyu," you whined.

He dragged the head down to your entrance, finally pushing into you. Both of his hands rested on your hips now as he slowly sunk you down onto him.

You moaned at the slight burning sensation the stretch left behind. It had already been months since a dick was last inside you, and with Mingyu's size it was even more intense.

You aided by lowering yourself onto his cock, and once he bottomed out inside you he stayed still to let you adjust. His dick twitched inside you, and you clenched around him in response.

"You're so fucking tight," he moaned into your ear. He began nibbling and sucking at the skin between your neck and shoulder from behind you, and you whined in response.

You lifted yourself off him slowly, basking in the feeling of his cock rubbing against your walls. You sunk down fully onto him before raising your hips again, finally beginning to ride him.

Mingyu allowed you to work yourself against his length while he brought one hand to your breast again. You moaned loudly as he squeezed the flesh between his fingers and bucked his hips up into you.

"Mmmh, shit, you feel so good," you babbled before crying loudly again. Mingyu quickly brought his other hand up to your throat, lightly choking you.

"Shhh, baby." He whispered against your skin. "You can't be so loud." His words were followed by another soft slap to your ass, making you whine quietly.

He let go of your throat, bringing both of his hands to your waist once again to speed up your pace. He angled his hips so he could thrust up into you at the same time, and the angle caused him to hit your sensitive spot every time. You panted loudly as the pressure in your lower stomach grew, and you ground yourself against his cock, clenching around him.

"Shit." Mingyu choked out breathlessly. "Tight little pussy's taking me so well."

Maybe it was the filthy words that left his mouth, or the way Mingyu took hold of your hips to slow your pace and thrust into you especially hard, but you felt yourself tip over the edge, your mind cloudy as pleasure overtook you. You couldn't even tell if you were crying out loudly, but you assumed so by the way Mingyu suddenly pulled himself out of you and pushed you forward until your face was pressed into the mattress and he was kneeled behind you.

He thrusted into you roughly now, trying to reach his own high. Your eyes were rolling back into your head as your core tingled with oversensitivity, and you could feel yourself drooling onto the sheets.

He came with a particularly rough grunt, pausing his movements as his cum emptied into the condom inside you. He moaned breathlessly and he slowly pumped himself in and out of you to milk his orgasm. Finally, he pulled himself completely out, and his hand ran across your spine.

"You okay?" He asked, and you lifted yourself onto your hands and knees, nodding. Mingyu looked down at your legs, his lips dropping in a slight gasp. "Your thighs are shaking." He noted out loud.

Your face burnt with embarrassment as you kneeled back onto your knees. When you finally turned to look at Mingyu, he was tossing the condom into the trash. His hair was now pressed to his forehead with sweat and his cheeks were tinted a shade of pink. When his eyes met yours, his lips quirked up into a smile.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to get rough with you." He apologized. He sheepishly scratched the back of his neck.

You shook your head. "N-no, it's okay," you croaked out, finally able to formulate words now that all the post-orgasm bliss was fading away.

You didn't know why, but you felt like you had to be near him. You crawled up towards him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It felt natural. Comfortable. It reminded you of how you felt with Wonwoo. And despite how much you enjoyed feeling Mingyu's soft lips against yours, that thought terrified you.

"Do you regret this?" He mumbled against your lips.

It scared you—the way you were able to betray Wonwoo so easily. Here you were, in bed with another boy: one that you shared inside jokes with and stole kisses from and ran to for comfort. All that you had built with Wonwoo over the past two years—were some miles apart really enough to tear everything down?

You answered honestly.

"No."

[mallowstep]

(Reed anon again)

Just--wtf did Riverclan do with Reedpaw when everyone was rescued? Even in Canon? Like, poor fucking Mistyfoot--two of her kits are with her, but her third and final kit is still in enemy territory, still underneath Tigerstar's paw, Blackfoot is still his mentor. If even a *hint* of Reedpaw's true parentage got out, he'd be fucked. He and Leopardstar would both probably be dead, Leopard carrying Tiger's legacy or not. Tbh I wouldn't doubt Tigerstar'd be petty enough just to kill all of Riverclan itself. Like...Greystripe, you fucking LIVED in Riverclan for a few fucking MOONS. How do you forget or at least NOT recognize/remember the queen that nursed your kits' own kits? You told Firestar you visited them every chance you had. Like...Grey, I get you were worried for you daughter, but dude...you left a child who you saw as a baby to a toddler (thereabouts) under a war criminal. Someone you KNOW had a subordinate who was not against poisoning kits with deathberries. Someone who tried to kill his OWN apprentice. Then, in the Leopard AU, this kid is stuck in the apprentices den during the rescue. Leopardstar and Mudfur cannot get him out without alerting Shadowclan Apprentices. They chose Mistyfoot and Featherpaw's heath and safety (which, at this point it's better than nothing.) And Misty has to choose Feather when Mudfur leads them out of their prison. He then gets to see the absolute horror of his LEADER, murdered, loose a life, to this Monster, see her go through what his mother did, only that IT'S far, far, worse than anything that'd been done at this point. He sees his clan's medicine cat turn against their leader, verbally agreeing and harassing her...just... this poor boy.. In Canon, Misty Au, Leopard AU it all sucks. Dark AU, not so much--still horrific, but Blackfoot is Reed's father in that one, so as his mentor Reed's safety is somewhat assured had Tigerstar not realized Reedpaw was Misty's kit, and that Misty's kits had not all died.

oh my god anon why r u so Damn Good at making me feel things

okay okay okay hm. i'm just gonna -- yeah i'm just gonna put the whole thing under a cut bc i'm a lil too tired to do the thing where i start with the pg-13 and below stuff and then do a cut.

cw: sexual assault, parent being involved in sexual assault of child

heck if i know. i'm like. 100% sure mistyfoot's kits were forgotten about. they were nameless characters for a Long time. reedpaw isn't in any of the allegiances for riverclan in tpb. i...like. i've read tpb how many times? and i honestly didn't know mistyfoot had kits until i checked out the warriors wiki and was like. oh. she had kits? with blackclaw? what the fuck?

i wouldn't put money on it, but i have a feeling the scene involving mistyfoot and her kits could be read as riverclan kits in general. again, wouldn't put money on that, it's just a hunch.

anyway, i kind of just. mistyfoot could have had another litter in the year between tpb and tnp, or during po3, or literally any other time and then we wouldn't have the reedpaw problem (tm).

WAIT

WAIT WAIT WAIT I WAS LOOKING AT THE WARRIORS WIKI AND

HE'S AN APPRENTICE IN TNP

what the FUCK

he's fucking like. several YEARS old. he's 2 and a half years old and he's a fucking apprentice oh my god just give mistyfoot a second litter it is not that hard.

actually. since mistyfoot's litter isn't named...new hc that reedwhisker is a different litter? hm. anyway.

my tangent on the reedpaw problem aside;

oh yeah, he's so fucking dead. imo prob not him and leopardstar -- riverclan would Riot if their leader was killed, and tbh, so would part of shadowclan -- but him and blackclaw. damn.

and yeah? idk? god. i don't know. tbf he's not in prison i don't even know. altho. actually, to give greystripe some credit -- the fact that mistyfoot doesn't ask to go back for him and how risky the riverclan rescue is, i think "not going back" is actually a reasonable choice.

honestly do we have an erin statement that reedwhisker is part of the same litter as prim and co. it's not on the wiki. i want to know. because i think everyone just assumed he was and -- maybe there is a statement but i want to see it.

because mistyfoot is not the type to abandon her kit. like. what? no. mistyfoot? mistyfoot? my brother just died but i am fucking fine get me the hell out of here mistyfoot? no i know i'm starving but like hell you can apprentice featherpaw to someone else mistyfoot? you're telling me SHE would leave a kit behind without so much as a word about him? fat fucking chance.

in conclusion, unless someone can provide evidence an erin said reedwhisker was part of mistyfoot's first litter, i'm going to assume the intention was that he was a second litter.

and back to the actual topic, now that i'm done for real hopefully.

yeeep. he can't be rescued. and -- mistyfoot has very few choices here. featherpaw is dying, reedpaw is safe for the moment, she won't get another chance. she's not happy about it -- she misses him so terribly much -- but she doesn't. yeah. god. that angst. i hope like. someone somehow just Tries to let reedpaw know it wasn't voluntary.

(i'm not Much One for "you left me you didn't love me" angst if you Can't tell. a pinch of it for flavour, but not as a main plot line, y'know? nothing wrong with it it's very good i just don't like writing it.)

god -- god. in my mind tigerstar takes the life from leopardstar privately bc riverclan would fucking riot but just. reedpaw realizes what's happening. so he follows bc of course he does. he's not the reason tigerstar knows what's going on, but he thinks he is.

and he's there hiding and he sees tigerstar kill leopardstar and hears him tell mudfur what's going to happen and he's sitting there in a bush or something just trying not to so much as twitch because he's so dead if tigerstar finds him. he's so fucking dead.

so he just sits there until long after tigerstar and leopardstar and mudfur have left and when he gets back to camp everyone wonders where he went and he can't explain.

and it feels terrible but he realizes tigerstar is still gloating over everything because as pissed as he is that he lost mistyfoot -- now he's truly taken out every thread of riverclan's leadership.

(frankly no i still think tigerstar's most effective control method for riverclan would be to tell stonefur that if he messes up, he'll kill the apprentices and/or mistyfoot and/or rape mistyfoot, and do leopard au on leopardstar, therefore getting all 3 riverclan leaders in blind obedience to him. he'd have to be much more discrete about leopardstar, maybe convince the clans it's a political thing, i'm not sure. the point is, nothing would Visibly be wrong, all three leaders are just going for this, and so of course riverclan would go along with it. but tigerstar's too much of a prideful asshole to appreciate another culture in enough depth to manipulate them effectively.)

anyway. so reedpaw realizes like -- ah yes. i'm escaping punishment because tigerstar is distracted. and -- god. yeah. oh my god.

and at first like -- he doesn't like. witness anything. tigerstar has some sense of subtly. not a ton -- but enough. direct evidence would be a problem. so no, reedpaw is just sitting with this knowledge in his head. mistyfoot escaped and she was carrying tigerstar's kits (was she? he hadn't seen her he misses her so much he hopes prays she's safe), so now leopardstar is going to.

and the thing about letting things sit like that is that the brain is very, very powerful.

(He called my mother a whore, Reedpaw thinks, and he wants to throw up when he remembers it.

Tigerstar and Leopardstar and Mudfur are having a conversation again and Reedpaw thinks of how Tigerstar would wrap his tail around Mistyfoot, like they were mates, and he wonders what Tigerstar would say if he didn't have to pretend.)

so. you know. yeah. good angst oh my god.

and now mudclaw has flipped from -- one of his best protectors to a great enemy. see, here's the thing. tigerstar only tells mudfur he's going to make him watch. leopardstar ain't dead that long. so reedpaw doesn't know what shadepelt knows and shadepelt would tell him but if shadepelt tries to talk to reedpaw...bad for the both of them.

and reedpaw is around blackfoot and blackfoot is a good guard and how long until -- reedpaw is asked to tell blackfoot something while blackfoot is on guard and he hears mudfur say, "You're a slut like your mother" and he -- can't. maybe he freezes, can't remember what he was supposed to tell blackfoot.

("Spit it out," Blackfoot says, but Reedpaw can't remember why he's even here.

"Even your own father thinks you're just a useless whore," Tigerstar says. He's not speaking loud -- Reedpaw would have to strain to hear the words if his entire world hadn't narrowed down to them.

"Reedpaw," Blackfoot growls. "Spit it out.")

hm. yes. god. bad. good. damn.

and yes the dark au seems like. once again "the angst is very different so i don't know how to rank its magnitude because emotions don't work like that" but. on one hand -- his dad. protection. safety. good. on the other -- his dad really did let two of his siblings die and his mom get raped, huh.

hm. good stuff.

[jamilelucato]

hi!! I just followed and saw your open request for hp fics!! congrats btw!! I was wondering if you could write for me either a Fred Weasley x reader or Sirius Black x reader with Enemies to Lovers? If y/n could be a hufflepuff that'd be awesome too lol ❤️❤️ also I'm here for the banter + unresolved sexual tension 👁️👄👁️ thank you!!

Gryffies and Puffies [F. W.]

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Hufflepuff!reader

Summary: Fred and [y/N] were never close, in fact, they hated each other, but Angelina is determined to change that.

A/N: Hi! Thank you, really! I tried to follow your request as much as I could, sorry if the Hufflepuff portrait is not much Hufflepuff like, I’m not one and I don’t have many friends that are, but I tried to keep it as I knew. Hope you like it! (gif not mine)

Last chance to send a request! || Harry Potter Masterlist

Although, generally, [y/N] doesn’t bother doing her homework way earlier than needed, this time she knew she had to start soon if she wanted a good grade.

Professor Snape wasn’t very fond of the Hufflepuff’s students, so, as a proud member of her house, [y/N] felt like she had to prove the Professor wrong, and show the authoritarian how smart Hufflepuffs can be.

It was the third book she had got from the Library, and this one specifically was just about the subject — Ageing Potions — but [y/N] seemed more lost than before while reading it. Sh even asked, politely, to the Librarian if the book was in English because she couldn’t understand a full paragraph.

“Having trouble there?” asked Angelina Johnson before sitting down in the chair next to [y/N]’s.

[y/N] smiled at her long-time friend. Angelina’s mom was a great friend of [y/N]’s mom, and so, they grew up together, as a weird but cool duo. Angelina had a more explosive personality, when [y/N] was generally softer and prefered to talk instead of punching.

“A lot, actually,” [y/N] sighed. “Have you started yours yet?” the sixth-years Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors shared Snape’s classes, so [y/N] knew Angelina had the same assignment as her.

“Oh, haven’t even started,” answered Angelina, catching one of the books in front of them and flipping through it.

“Angie! Professor Snape already has something against you, don’t give him an extra to work with!” [y/N] retorted, genuinely worried for her friend.

Angelina chuckled. “By something against me, you mean because I sit with the twins?”

“Exactly!” the girls burst into soft laughter.

Angelina knew that [y/N] was out for the Weasley twins ever since third-year when they painted the whole Hufflepuff common room black for one week. Professor Flitwick had to step in to help get rid of the magical paint.

But that wasn’t just it. It seemed as if whenever [y/N] got into trouble, the twins, and more specifically, Fred Weasley, was around.

“So... Hogsmeade this weekend. You comin’?” asked Angelina when the laughter calmed down.

“Nope, got this to finish,” [y/N] sighed, pointing to the parchment blank. “Or gotta start it.”

Angelina protested, “come on, you never come!”

“With you, I don’t!” [y/N] frowned. “You always bring them!”

“They’re my best friends!”

“Ouch,” [y/N] pretended to be offended, but only gained a shove from Angie before her best friend started laughing again. Those two were always laughing.

“I promise they’ll behave,” Angie sparkled her dark brown eyes towards [y/N], and seeing a pit face, [y/N] knew she had lost.

“Fine,” the Hufflepuff agreed, closing the books in front of them, knowing very well that no preparation in the world would make her homework worthy of a good grade in Snape’s eyes. “But you owe me one.”

“Put it on the account,” smiled Angie.

***

“Here she comes, the Hufflepuff princess,” smirked an inpatient Fred Weasley, watching with a brow raised as [y/N] finally got out of the train.

Without staring the identical redheads, [y/N] apologized to Angelina, “sorry, got stuck with Bryan and Clary, they were tellin’ me about the...”

“No one cares, puffie,” Fred whispered, in a voice that sounded almost like a whistle.

“Shut it, Weasley,” [y/N] warned, with a tired look. If her visit to Hogsmeade was going to be like that, she did not know if she’d be able to honour the motto of kindness and forgiveness of her Hogwarts House.

“Oh, she acknowledges I’m here,” Fred smirked again, “finally.”

[y/N] rolled her eyes, wrapping her arm around Angelina’s, while she murmured apologies. The two girls took the lead, while the twins followed, and [y/N] could swear that every announced turn she and Angie decided to take, she could hear Fred sighing in complain — and she was loving that.

“First stop: Honeydukes!” [y/N] shouted, stating the way.

Angelina stopped when she noticed Fred had stopped too.

“No way — Zonko’s first,” he debated.

[y/N] turned around, facing the redhaired boy — really facing him, like she had not done yet. She sometimes forgot how cute he was.

Well, any boy taller than her, she considered cute really, because she loved how they leaned down to look at her — and Fred had a lot of leaning down to do.

“Honeydukes,” [y/N] said, hoping her voice sounded as scary as Professor Snape because he was the one she was trying to imitate.

“Look, you can eat later, puffie, but the good products will sell out if George and I don’t go to Zonko’s now,” he continued his pledge.

“You two go then — I’m going Honeydukes first,” [y/N] was trying her hardest to stand her point, but when Angelina and George puffed next to them, she lost a bit of her posture.

“You expect George and I will let you two girls walk around alone?”

“I don’t need a bodyguard!” [y/N] shouted, crossing her arms.

“If that’s supposed to be your scare-people-away face, then yes, you need bodyguards,” Fred argued.

“Let’s go to Zonko’s first, y/N. It’ll give less time for the chocolates to melt,” Angelina stepped in the argument, knowing that the two would continue to argue all day if they could. In fact, Angelina had already witnessed them arguing two whole hours about which team was better at Quidditch — and it seemed to be horrible to [y/N] offend Angelina as a player just to win the argument.

Puffing the whole way and not daring to face Fred, [y/N] followed them to Zonko’s. It was easier to avoid looking at him when the boys entered the store (already crowded) and got lost from the girls in the middle of the shelves, their eyes shining with new and classic products.

Taking advantage of the momentary peace, [y/N] wandered around the store, looking for something that could be used for good fun, like some board game. She didn’t realize that Fred was right behind her until he opened his mouth.

His voice a whisper so close to her ear, that it shivered all over her: “you should buy it if you can’t stop staring,” he smirked.

She turned around to face the boy way too close than she expected. Trying to step away, she bumped into the shelve, but fortunately, nothing fell.

“I don’t want a stupid...” [y/N] battled with herself if she should say or not the next word, “furry bear,” she ended up saying because she hated leaving phrases unfinished.

“Yeah, okay,” Fred pretended to believe, puffing his chest.

“I don’t,” [y/N] stated again.

“Sure, if you say so,” he continued his little game.

“Just because Hufflepuffs are kind, it does not mean we like all cute and fluffy and soft things, okay,” [y/N] tried to prove her point using of more complex sentences, but noticing his smile, she thought she only contradicted herself.

“Not all Hufflepuffs are the same,” Fred tried to help her.

“Exactly,” [y/N] crossed her arms.

“But you like the fluffy and plushy,” Fred raised an eyebrow, but he did not look into her eyes.

“Yes,” [y/] agreed, before even realizing what she was saying yes to. She only had time to listen to Fred burst into laughter, she could no longer take back what she said.

But for a second, it didn’t matter; his laugh was worth it. Until it wasn’t.

“So you like plushy, huh,” he repeated non-stop.

“Oh, for Helga’s sake,” [y/N] she puffed, desperately trying to get away from the ginger boy.

***

When the boys had finally bought all they wanted from Zonko’s, [y/N] and Angelina were already outside waiting. There weren’t many things that the girls founded interesting there. Angelina favours Quidditch stuff and, [y/N], as pointed out by Fred himself, prefers fluffy things.

“That took a while,” you pretended to whisper when actually you spoke loud enough for the twins to hear.

“Oh, did we make you wait, puffie?” Fred teased, but [y/N] just rolled her eyes, not ready to fall into his traps again.

“Well, for fairness, it’s you girls’ time to pick a place,” George said, and [y/N] involuntarily smiled at the more delicate Weasley twin.

“Honeydukes!!” [y/N] shouted before Angelina could say anything, but it didn’t matter. The three Gryffindors immediately started giggling at the girl’s excitement to visit the candy store.

Angelina and George got themselves involved in a talk about the new best broom in the market, leaving Fred and [y/N] behind. They both played Quidditch too, but George and Angie made no effort to include them in the conversation.

“See,” [y/N] decided to tease Fred since they were closest, “if we had gone to Honeydukes first, you wouldn’t need to carry those many bags around.”

Fred almost forgot how to walk. He was generally the one that started the teasing — [y/N] wasn’t much of the provocative kind unless she was provoked. However, Fred liked it.

“You would be the one carrying the bags then, genius,” Fred pointed out, turning his face sightless to the right to get a glimpse of her reaction.

“How many sweets do you think I’m buying?” she asked, analyzing the three plastic bags in his left hand and the two others in his right one. She compared it to the three chocolate bars and a couple of chocolate frogs she had in mind, and she was sure it would be just one bag.

Fred shrugged, letting out a soft chuckled. [y/N] might have had a point, but he was not going to admit it.

When they finally arrived at the candy shop, Fred lost sight of [y/N] because she fastly ran inside. Angelina entered the shop too, but George and Fred had so many bags they were afraid to walk in, so they decided to take turns inside.

Fred went in first, excited to see how [y/N] would be in her environment, but he didn’t like what he saw. As soon as he walked in, he saw her in a corner on the left-back, surrounded by some boys. At that distance, Fred would not guess they were Hufflepuffs.

His first instinct was to suppose she was in danger, but then she laughed. Really laughed, in the sweetest way possible, in a way she had never laughed to his jokes.

He knew she was alright, but he wasn’t. He rushed out of the store, surprising George.

“Back so soon?” George asked.

Fred was not in the mood to tell his twin that might have caught feelings for a certain uneasy girl, so he lied.

“Yeah, had no money left. I mean, if I still want a butterbeer,” Fred said, shrugging and taking his brother’s place as the guard of their Zonko’s products.

George said no more, glad to have the chance to buy something sweet for himself. In the middle of the night, after running around with Fred, George loved having a chocolate frog to recharge his energies.

“Next stop,” said Angelina, once the three got out of the candy store, “Three Broomsticks.”

Everybody agreed with ununderstanding whispers. [y/N], as she planned, got out of Honeydukes with only one plastic bag, that she teasingly raised towards Fred, who rolled his eyes, with a troubled expression.  

His reaction wasn’t the one [y/N] was anticipating. She wanted him to make a quick remark, mess with her bad eating habits, anything like that. But ignore a clear chance to mess with her — she did not expect that.

She rushed to Angie’s side, happy to get a chance to gossip with her best girl about what the boys she had met in the shop had just told her.

“So, Luke told me that Cormac McLaggen is chasing after your friend Alicia, is that true?” [y/N] asked.

Angelina turned her face to her best friend, confused with such a question. Not that the two never gossip before, but [y/N]’s tone was generally less invasive and judge than this.

“Why? Are you interested?” Angie asked, raising a brow.

[y/N] almost choked.

“Interested? Me?” she puffed. “Please.”

Behind the girls, one of the twins was paying very close attention to the conversation.

“He’s not really your type, is he?”

“I’m not interested in him,” [y/N] debated. “I could be, but I ain’t.”

Angie turned her face to the front again before pulling the door of the Three Broomsticks. The four got in, and George was looking around for an empty table when [y/N] asked: “what are you guys taking?”

“Butterbeer,” the three Gryffindors answered together, causing the girl to smile at their synchronization.

“I’ll get it; you go sit down,” she was actually being nice because, of all of them, she was the one with fewer bags.

Being friends with Madam Rosmerta had its privileges, such as [y/N] was first attended as soon as she reached the counter.

“Hey, Madam Rosmerta! How’s it goin’?” [y/N] asked, working extra hard her charm. The whole counter was staring at her, half angry, half not believing, that she was being served before them.

When the woman finally gave [y/N] her drinks, she headed to the table her friends had picked, noticing with an exhalation that the only chair left was in the middle of Fred and George.

“That was fast,” pointed out George, getting his butterbeer with a smile and tossing you a sickle.

“No need, it’s on me,” [y/N] said, giving George his coin back. “Actually on Rosmerta, but that’s supposably to be a secret.”

Angelina smiled, reaching for her cup and savouring the butterbeer as if it was more tasteful because it had been free.

Fred looked at you without exactly turning but grabbed his drink anyway.

“Thanks,” he whispered, this time Fred’s tone had no sign of banter.

[y/N] was scared they would remain in that dreadful silence, bt Angelina took her chance to tell everyone about her father’s newest accomplishment and how it would affect them — he had a bought a summer house near the beach. She was sure he would allow her to bring them for a weekend.

“Wow, Angie, count me in! Would love beach day!” [y/N] beamed.

Angelina chuckled. “I’ll see if we can go next holiday.”

The whole table cheered in excitement, and George was so happy that he decided to buy them the next round of butterbeer.

When the day in Hogsmeade was over, [y/N] and Fred got back to their usual bickering. George knew that would happen, but Angie was, in fact, hoping for them to finally develop a real friendship, better than the day to day teasing.

Days and months went by. [y/N] ended up getting the better side of Professor Snape, after all — he said her essay was the best one from that class.

Angelina kept trying to connect Fred and [y/N], but it was like she was running from him. Fred seemed neutral about it all, and that was a first.

“So my father got back to me...” Angelina started telling the twins as soon as the Quidditch practice was over.

“And?” George was genuinely enthusiastic.

“And we can go for the Easter holiday!” cheered Angelina. “Unless your mom doesn’t allow you to come...”

“Molly will be pleased to have two less in the house,” admitted George.

“Is [y/N] coming?” Fred asked, raising his voice so he could be heard since he was in the back of the tent.

Angelina exchanged looks with George before answering, scared that he wouldn’t like her answer. “Yes, she is, and I hope you behave.”

“Are you saying that to her?” Fred retorted.

“Don’t pretend you aren’t the one who messes with her,” Angelina tilted her head towards Fred, who just shrugged, puffing as if he was innocent. “Well, gonna invite Alicia and Katie. See you later.”

***

Part of [y/N] wondered why she had said yes. Sure, Angelina Johnson was her best friend of all times, but still, as her father drove you two to the beach house, all she could think of was that it would be a house filled with Gryffindors and she would be the only outsider.

She wasn’t friends with the others. She could become friends with Alicia and Katia, she guessed, and George was somewhat of a colleague, but Fred? Oh, Helga, she signed in for a nightmare.

Since the Hogsmeade trip a couple of months ago, things without explanation kept on happening with [y/n] more often than before. Clothes coloured in bright pink, her cat turning in with two tails instead of just one, and she even received letters with nothing written on — those were the most confusing of the pranks. Again, she was almost sure it was Fred’s fault, but since the pranks were harmless, she never confronted him about them.

Angelina and [y/N] had time to settle themselves down in a room just for the two — Katie and Alicia were getting another one, and Fred and George the one far most at the end of the corridor.

When the six kids were all together, things started getting, well, exciting. There was no way Fred and George were going to let that trip be a bore.

Without parents around, you six stayed on the beach until 4 a.m, watching the sun rising far away. Alicia had brought some firewhisky, but since it was only two bottles, the group decided to save for later.

When [y/N] woke up on the second day, she found herself lying in a mattress-shaped floater, tossed in the middle of the pool.

“WEASLEYS!!” she shouted, waking the whole house up.

With no wand around, [y/N] had no option but to jump in the pool and swim to get out of there. When she managed to cross half of the backyard, Fred and George appeared at the door, and you took a glimpse inside the house, where the girls ate breakfast like nothing was happening to [y/N].

“Morning-swim, huh?” Fred crossed his arms, smirking slightly.

“You’ll pay for that, Fred,” she replied, shaking, the coldness of the water that soaked her combined with the wind of the beach was not doing her good.

“Cute pyjamas, puffie” he continued teasing as she passed him by — his eyes following her back as she went upstairs. The nickname was not something she was quite fond of, especially because she knew he used it just because of her house.

George nudged his twin. “Don’t ask why she doesn’t like you,” George said, leaving his brother at the door and sitting down next to Alicia.

“What? You helped,” pointed down Fred, sitting too.

“Yeah, but she likes me,” George raised a brow, his confident expression did not even shake at the dark look his twin cast.

*** When the night came, [y/N] was sure she had gotten a tan, but after she got in the shower and took a good look in front of the mirror, it was like the tan was gone. She wasn’t hurt, though, so it wasn’t all bad.

Getting downstairs, she noticed that the group hadn’t been able to keep themselves away from the firewhisky any longer, because the only two bottles were displayed in the middle of the table set outside in the backyard.

[y/N]’s white dress was practically sparkling in the dim light of outside, and for a minute, Fred was out of breath, staring at her in a way he had never before.

Well, actually... Never before since they arrived. But Fred was not gonna mention the other thousand times she left him breathless by her looks.

“Where’s Angie?” [y/N] asked before sitting down, noticing that her bestie was the only one left.

“Still showering. Angie says she can feel the sand everywhere yet,” explained Katie.

“And who’s to blame...” [y/N] wondered aloud, trying to provoke the twins who had been fighting everyone in the sand earlier.

Even though Fred teased her the whole afternoon — how she would never win him in the fight, how she was laze, how he was fast — she didn’t give in, preferring to get sunbathed. It didn’t work though, but at least she didn’t have sand in all weird places now.

Angie finally got outside, wearing a beautiful set of shorts and a floral blouse.

“Let’s start the game, come on, I really need it,” she said, and the whole table agreed.

They played an updated version of beer pong, the muggle game, and [y/N] was losing badly to everyone else. That meant that she was the one drinking more, and, for Helga, she was not used to it, but with time, the effects seemed to disappear.

When the game was over, [y/N] had been sitting for minutes at the edge of the pool, wetting only her feet. There was a cup of firewhisky in her hands, but even if not drunk, she knew she shouldn’t keep drinking it.

Someone found a way to play muggle music, and Angelina, Alicia, Katie and George were having the time of their lives in the improvised dance floor.

Fred was walking, as silently as he could, towards [y/N]. He wasn’t very fond of the music playing, and he wasn’t as drunk as the others. Generally, he would have pretended to be, like George was doing, just for the fun of it, but watching [y/N] all alone, he knew he had to something about her.

“Hey,” she smiled softly, noticing the boy sitting down next to her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, but she never answered. She put the cup down though — Fred thought that was a good sign. “I’m sorry about the pool earlier.”

[y/N] stared back at him, this time trying to analyze every aspect of his face. Like how he had moe freckles on his left cheek then the right. How his nose was big but yet perfectly pleasant to look at. How he was leaning towards her even though he wasn’t noticing. But she did. And she leaned in too.

“You know, if you wanted my attention, there were other ways to get it,” she said, surprising herself with the bravery to speak up.

Fred froze.

“You could have apologized to my cat, that would’ve been nice, for starters,” she said, this time surprising him, who laughed it off.

“He didn’t like the extra tail?”

“He actually did,” she joined him in the laughter, remembering her pet playing with a smile in her dorm room because he now had two tails. “Hey, how did you found out that he was my cat and not any other?”

Fred smiled in the dim light.

“He was the fluffiest,” was his answer. [y/N] elbowed him, pretending to be angry, but she knew that, unfortunately, her cat was the furriest cat Hogwarts had ever seen.

After a moment of silence, [y/N] decided she better get back to her room — and she hoped this time she would wake up there too. Getting up without warning, she ended up scaring Fred.

“Where are you going?” he asked, getting up too.

“Back to bed,” she said. “Better get a good night sleep before tomorrow — it is our last day after all.”

Fred wrinkled his nose. He knew she was right, but he also knew that it was his last chance to do something with her, at least, under the spark of the moon.

But she seemed so far away...

“Well, at least let me accompany you,” Fred offered [y/N] his arm, which she took with a smile.

They walked in silence — the rest of the group didn’t even notice they were gone.

[y/N] was about to get to her room when Fred stopped her.

“Wait,” he was confused whether it was the best time or not, but it was his only time so... “wait here, I’m gonna grab something for you.”

He walked to the end of the corridor, rushing to his room. Fred was rummaging through his suitcase, looking for what he wanted to give her.

[y/N] waited patiently — and quite anxiously — for whatever Fred was going to give her.

“Here, ” he said, giving her something he had hidden in his back. [y/N] grabbed from his hands, surprised with the texture of what she got. “I don’t know if Angelina ever mentioned me and my brother want to open a joke shop, and well, this product... You kinda inspired me to do it.”

She studied the hairy, yellow ball in her hands. Thankfully, she held it gently, because when she turned the thing over, she noticed that two little blue eyes were staring at her, startled.

“Oh my Helga, Freddie, is this alive?” she asked, but the answer didn’t really matter because she was already petting the small furry ball.

“It’s she, actually,” he smiled, noticing how happy she was with the gift. “Has no name, though.”

“What is she?” she asked while playing with the pet, noticing she was warming up to [y/N]’s touch.

“George and I named it Pygmy Puff — a miniature Puffskein,” Fred explained, petting the furry ball too. “They are generally pink or purple, so yours was made with a lot of care.”

[y/N] looked up from the yellow Pygmy Puff to Fred and tilted her head, uncontrollably smiling.

“Guess the Pygmy Puff has something to do with me too,” [y/N] teased.

“The whole thing has something to do with you,” Fred let out, blushing immediately, but [y/N] didn’t notice. Fred fake-coughed. “So, what will you name her?”

[y/N] thought about it for a while. “I guess it would only make sense if she was named Gryffie. After all, her creator is a Gryffindor,” [y/N] blushed but avoided looking at Fred, focusing solemnly in the Pygmy Puff.

“It makes sense,” Fred looked from the pet to the girl and bit his inner cheek. “Two houses come together for an invention.”

“That’s the Hogwarts spirit,” [y/N] laughed it off. “Thank you, Fred,” she said before leaning on tiptoes to place a kiss on Fred’s cheek.

The Pygmy Puff enjoyed the time with no attention and walked from [y/N]’s hand to her shoulder, and Fred stared at the fluffy thing while [y/N] kissed him.

And somehow it felt like the pet was trying to say something.

[y/N] stepped away and said good-night, entering her room with a sad look. She didn’t want the night to end. So, after placing Gryffie on the bed, she turned to the door, ready to open it again. But Fred was faster.

They stared for a full second before both rushed towards each other, locking their lips in a soft but potent kiss.

Fred’s hands found her waist and pulled her closer, as closer as Fred could — close as he always wished she was. [y/N], of course, ran her fingers through his hair, something she had been wanting to do for a while now, and she was glad to find such fluffy and soft hair.

They were breathless, but neither wanted to pull away. Fred leaned to her neck, finding her sensitive spot right away, and there was nothing better than hearing her moan so close to his ear.

Behind them, the Pygmy Puff made some sound weird, but they just laughed it off and pulled each other closer again, as if they could be closer than they were.

The Pygmy Puff cried again, and this time non-stop, so [y/N] had to pull away. She was the mother of that pet for only a couple of minutes, but she was very protective over it already.

“What is it?” she murmured towards the fluffy ball at the same time Fred cleared his throat, making [y/N] turn to Fred again, who was looking at the stairs.

“Hi, little love birds,” giggled a very drunk Angelina.

Fred and [y/N] were instantly red, from head to toes, but Angelina and the rest of the group didn’t even care, they just couldn’t giggling and bumping into each other.

“Hey, George, I think I’ll better sleep in your room,” Angelina spoke again. “I believe you’ll have an empty bed.”

“Good idea,” George said, locking arms with Angelina to protect her from falling — she could do it at any moment now. “Good-night, love birds. Or should I say love puffs?”

The four teenagers were laughing out loud, they could wake someone up if only someone were sleeping. George and Angie closed their door as soon as they walked in and winking at [y/N] and Fred, Alicia closed the door of hers and Katie’s room.

“Well, I guess I just lost my bed, puffie” Fred sighed, pretending to be upset, leaning on the door frame.

His eyes sparkled in the dim light of her room. [y/N] smirked, pulling him by his collar, suddenly very aware of her Femme Fatale powers.

“Good thing I have an extra one here,” she said, kissing him again, and again, and again...