#criticisms are fine but some of them take it a bit too far

[arcanegifs]

God, I'm (yet again) exhausted. What a show. I will say, flaws and all, it's still one of the best animated series I've watched. Ever. No, I don't think it deserves the vitriol it's getting on social media.

I have a LOT of emotions right now. I don't think I'm even thinking straight after watching through everything once. It definitely needs to be re-watched multiple times. No, I'm not offering any kind of insights or anything like that. I think I'm just too emotional seeing my favorite show end.

I really wanna thank the writers, directors, artists, animators, producers, and everyone else who worked on this show for this work of art. It was beautiful, and it's why I love making gifs of this show.

And just because this show has ended, doesn't mean I'll stop making things. There's two whole seasons to work with now. I hope I can have enough free time to post regularly. I still need to make some 8k wallpapers and a ton of gifs haha.

I'll take a break and sleep for now. I'll see what I can make when I wake up tomorrow. I have so many things I want to do, but I also feel like crap and I too, have a life LMAO.

Oh, and I'm still looking forward to the next stories that they tell us! Runeterra truly has amazing lore. Excited to see what's next!

Thank you for all the likes, reblogs, and support you guys give to my lil sideblog! I appreciate you guys so much <3

[seventh-district]

not even gonna tag this properly bc i don't wanna get Involved but i do have some Thoughts i need to get out into the void so here we go

(aaa quick edit: CW for mention/discussion of Boothill leaks)

[thequeenofuselessinformation]

So basically the entire character list of The ballad of songbirds and snakes is the exes from hell

1. Coriolanus Snow

-Mansplain Manipulate Manwhore

-Great hair and fashion sense

-Love bombs you

-Old money

-His (grand)mom hates you because her son can do no wrong so clearly you're the problem

-His favourite hobby is emotional and mental abuse

-Snitches on you when cheating at family board game night (he's deflecting that he's also cheating)

-Emotionally stagnant (narcissist with mommy and daddy issues)

2. Sejanus Plinth

-Loves you to bits, so does his mom (your waistline will never truly recover)

-Indecisive about where to grab dinner always

-New money and it shows in his insecurity

-Supportive asf

-Breaks up with you because he can't be with a non pacifist/vegan

-Daddy issues

-Condemns Shein hauls

-Identity crisis every other week, you'll have to talk him out of a buzz cut, jumping off the ledge or giving all his money to scammers (if you collect all the stamps you'll get a financial compensation from his dad on the wedding day)

3. Lucy Gray Baird

-Her Ex is a dick, will stalk and harass you

-Her family is a bunch of hippies, will make you eat with your hands, on the floor, while singing Kumbaya

-Sings you to sleep, braids your hair

-Almost poisoned you thrice cause she doesn't understand you shouldn't mix cleaning products together

-Old soul

-Thrifts, recycles

-Puts salt in your coffee after arguments

-Ghosts you after your make or break argument

4. Casca Highbottom

-Never asks about your day, his is always worse

-Drug addict in denial

-Weird beef with his old classmate's son (he never lets anything go)

-Dislikes people, which would be fine if you weren't included

-Always on some sardonic shit, probably a business major with a psych minor

-His pills take all the space in the shared bathroom, your makeup will be shoved in the far lowest drawer next to the TP

-His ancient ass coworkers hit on you at symposiums, he's too high off bathroom cocaine to stop them (or gets off, either way you're tired and want home)

5. Dr Gaul

-Devil Incarnate

-You somehow rizzed her up at a function and she's been showing up at your house ever since (you don't how but she has both the address and a key)

-Petting zoo type of owner

-She always smells like chemicals and latex

-Asks you unhinged "Would you rather" questions and refuses to drop it (makes your Would you love me if i were a worm ex cute by a long shot)

-Will perform experiments on you without your knowledge or consent

-Insists her pet snake shares your bed

-Freak in the streets and the sheets (the restraining order won't even go through cause she's in cahoots with half the Government)

-Definitely wanted for war crimes somewhere, the G in Geneva convention stands for Gaul

6. Lucky Flickerman

-A clown.

-His hair and skincare products take over the entire bathroom/vanity

-He can't dress to save his life, but he sure thinks he can

-Golden retriever boyfriend energy

-Steals your concealer, refuses to admit it

-Would you like to see a magic trick? What do you mean this is a serious fight, there's a quarter up your nose

-Impulsive buyer, has 13 snow globes of panem because they were on sale and looked shiny

-Even his pet thinks he's a dumbass

-Cries during movies

7. Tigris

-Yes she do the cooking, yes she do the cleaning

-Insecure about her appearance (critical, will cost you)

-Her family is a bunch of snobs

-Anything she touches turns into gold

-Her cousin can do no wrong, you have to accommodate everything for him or she'll die (and he never even visits, "just in case")

-Her grandmother is a package deal, I hope you like boomer propaganda and info commercials early on Sunday morning

-Empathetic asf

-Puts everyone's needs above hers (and unfortunately yours)

[otomehoneyybearr]

Kagari Epilogue

The Beast Tempts the Little Rabbit

Pictures have been updated!

 The turmoil at the charity party came to a close without incident, and the following day—

Emma: "I'm sorry."

I invited Kagari to a tea party I held in the greenhouse of Jade Castle to apologize to him.

Kagari: "It's fine. Lift your head."

Kagari: "Is what I'd like to say, but I don't recall you ever being rude to me. And it's not like me to forget things."

Emma: "It was during yesterday's party."

Emma: "I made several remarks criticizing you without understanding the situation."

Emma: "And despite being told to wait in the room, I chased after you, charged at an enemy unarmed, and fainted."

Kagari: "Just hearing that makes you sound like a beast that accidentally wandered into human territory."

Emma: "As a result, you had to carry me all the way to the guest room here in the castle. I’ve caused you a lot of trouble.”

Kagari: "I think the cause of you fainting was my fault but... it’s fine."

Kagari: "Apologies are unnecessary. I’ve already dealt with the person I was after, to some extent."

This morning, I remembered what Prince Keith had told Kagari.

(If I remember correctly, the merchant's eye and leg were considered as unusable.)

(If Prince Keith hadn't shown up when he did, it wouldn't have ended with just that.)

I couldn’t help but think about the worst-case scenario and shuddered.

Kagari: "Also, I don't feel like I was criticized at all."

Kagari: "For starters, our living environments are vastly different. It's natural for our way of thinking to be different too."

Kagari: "You simply just expressed your opinion about that difference, yet you didn't reject mine, did you?"

Emma: "...Right."

Kagari: "Then don't apologize. It wasn't a mistake."

Kagari: "But in Kogyoku, lukewarm thoughts like yours can be fatal."

Kagari: "If you want to die, that's fine, but be careful if you go there."

Emma: "Understood. Thank you for your advice!"

I nodded, and Kagari, seemingly satisfied with all that he had to say, took a sip of tea.

I was almost enchanted by his graceful movements.

(Kagari doesn't hesitate to take lives.)

(But he's not just a cruel person as he gives me advice like this and even returned my wallet.)

Although we're still practically strangers, I felt that way from every one of his words and actions.

Kagari: "So..."

Emma: "Yes?"

Kagari: "Can I eat these dorayaki?"

In front of Kagari’s gaze was a table filled with dorayaki as far as the eye could see.

Among them was the dorayaki from the mobile shop that I had eaten yesterday.

(I remember Prince Keith telling me about it and snuck out to buy some.)

Emma: "Please do! I prepared them just for you, Kagari."

Kagari: "For me...? Then I’ll gratefully accept it."

While there was no change in his expression or tone of voice, the atmosphere around us seemed to have relaxed slightly.

Kagari’s hand reached for the dorayaki—but for some reason, he withdrew it without taking one.

Kagari: "..."

(Huh? He stood up.)

As I watched his movements, he placed his chair right next to me without leaving any room, and sat back down.

And he opened his mouth towards me.

(...?)

I was left speechless with a bewildered expression.

Kagari: "Princess, you're slow on the uptake."

Kagari: "I'm going to eat you, not the dorayaki."

Emma: "Wha... You bit me again!?"

Heat spread from where he bit me.

I glared at Kagari while holding my neck, and he stared back at me with his chin resting on his hand.

He seemed a bit disappointed.

Kagari: "Aren’t you going to say 'Ah' like you did yesterday?"

Emma: "I didn't say that."

Kagari: "Yes you did. It was cute."

Emma: "Cu... That's not the point. Please don't bite me again."

Kagari: "This is the first time I've bitten you."

Emma: " I remember you biting me yesterday, very clearly."

Kagari: "I didn't bite you. But..."

He lightly tapped the back of my hand that was holding my neck with two fingers.

Kagari: "I just lightly pressed into you with my nails like this."

Emma: "Liar..."

Kagari: "Unfortunately, I’m not lying."

(So I just assumed I was bitten and...)

(This is the worst... I wish I could faint right now. I feel like crying from embarrassment.)

Kagari: "I really liked that sound."

Kagari: "Won't you do it again? Misunderstood Princess—mmph"

Emma: "I've heard that the deliciousness of dorayaki decreases by half when it dries out, so please eat them as soon as possible!"

Intervening Kagari’s words, I forcibly fed him a piece of dorayaki cut with a fork.

Kagari: "..."

(He's really quiet now. Just as Prince Keith said, dorayaki works wonders on him.)

(But still... he must have noticed that I was flustered...)

(Kagari can be quite mean, despite his appearance.)

As I fanned my face with my hand to cool down, Kagari continued to silently eat the dorayaki at a steady pace.

Chewing, swallowing, and opening his mouth to take in another dorayaki. It was like an assembly line.

(Was Kagari opening his mouth as a sign for me to feed him?)

(...Perhaps as an apology.)

Kagari: "Princess."

Emma: "Oh, right, the dorayaki."

I pushed the empty plate aside and picked up a plate piled high with dorayaki.

(...It'll be fine, right?)

With a handful of nervousness in my chest, I offered a piece of dorayaki that I had cut into a bite-sized portion.

Kagari ate it without hesitation, then abruptly stopped moving.

(...Was it not good after all?)

Unable to bear the flowing silence, I spoke up.

Emma: "I made those dorayaki."

Kagari: "You did?"

Emma: "Just buying them seemed a bit bland, so I asked Prince Keith to borrowed the kitchen."

Emma: "I followed the recipe exactly, but it never turned out right."

(I should ask owner for some tips when I get back.)

(For now, I'll eat this one myself, and get another one...)

Kagari: "Wait."

He stopped my hand that was trying to move the plate away and returned it to its original position.

Emma: "Wasn’t it not to your liking?"

Kagari: "Who said that? It's delicious."

Emma: "R-really!?"

Kagari: "Yeah, I like the taste of something you're not used to making."

(That's... a somewhat puzzling response.)

(But I'm glad he thinks it good.)

Emma: "Thank you."

I once again brought the dorayaki to Kagari’s mouth.

He ate it, seemingly faster than before, and my expression naturally relaxed.

(Hehe, he's starting to look cute.)

Whenever I offered him a dorayaki, he opened his mouth obediently without changing his expression, and it was fascinating to watch.

(...I wonder what that was yesterday.)

●●●●●● Flashback ●●●●●●

Kagari: "If I kneel down and cutely meow like a cat, will I get your attention?"

●●●●●● Flashback End ●●●●●●

Remembering the sweet and fierce heat I saw in his eyes, my body tensed slightly.

The atmosphere was different from when we met in the city or when he was wielding his sword.

I hastily shook off my thoughts in response to the incomprehensible fear.

Kagari: "What's wrong, Princess?"

Emma: "Oh... um, I was just thinking that I'd like to try some authentic dorayaki while watching cherry blossoms..."

Emma: "But it's just a thought."

To cover it up, I hastily came up with an excuse, but Kagari tilted his head.

Kagari: "So you want to eat dorayaki while having a cherry blossom viewing in Kogyoku?"

Emma: "Yes."

Emma: "To do that, I'll need to learn how to protect myself better and become stronger."

Kagari: "You'll probably die before you become strong."

Emma: "...You're really killing my motivation, Kagari."

Kagari: "I'm just being realistic."

After pretending to think for a moment, Kagari took a sip of tea.

Kagari: "If you really want to come to Kogyoku, call me. I'll act as your escort."

Emma: "Really? Is that okay?"

Kagari: "You did feed me dorayaki, after all."

Kagari: "And as a bonus, I'll even teach you an easy way to kill someone."

Emma: "...I'll pass on that, thank you."

Kagari: "I’m just kidding."

Kagari: "But as a minimum for self-defense, you should have a short sword or a knife with you."

Kagari: "Even if you don't want to take someone's life, it's important not to be defenseless."

Emma: "Thank you for your concern."

Even in Kogyoku, known as a turbulent country, there are safe territories.

However, I learned from the owner that most people still carry swords.

(Talking to Kagari makes me realize the stark differences between my everyday life in Rhodolite and there.)

Kagari: "Princess, Princess."

His voice interrupted my thoughts.

Emma: "Yes, what is it...? Mmph."

He suddenly stuffed something into my mouth, and the gentle sweetness spread across my tongue.

(It's a dorayaki.)

I chewed and swallowed.

Kagari: "Is it good?"

Emma: "It's delicious."

Kagari: "Then have another bite."

Emma: "Mmph-- Kagari, what's gotten into you all of a sudden? Also, this bite is a bit too big!"

Kagari: "It's fine, you can handle it."

(He's being so forceful!)

(He demanded to be fed dorayaki, and now he's turning the tables and feeding me.)

(He's really an unpredictable person.)

(But... one thing is for certain...)

As I chewed on the dorayaki, I looked at Kagari.

His expressionless emerald eyes met mine, just like when we first met.

(What does Kagari think of me after yesterday's incident? I have no idea.)

(Just one thing...)

Kagari: "Princess."

(I feel like he's... grown fond of me.)

As I thought that, it seemed like Kagari had a swaying cat's tail attached to him.

▼・ᴥ・▼

[bonny-kookoo]

Can we get cherry jks reaction when Mc finally shows her tattoo to jk😊 thanks

A/N: Warnings for sexual tension

"So." He grins.

"..So." You parrot back, though not as confident.

You're both sitting on his couch again, facing each other. Suddenly, you feel odd. What if he's disappointed by your body? What if he thinks you're a lot prettier than you actually are? And what if he thinks your tattoo is stupid, badly made, or doesn't suit you?

"Do you wanna.. take it off yourself, or..?" He wonders casually, leaning his head a bit to the side.

"..you." You point towards him, unable to really bring yourself to undress. It's not even all that bad- he's gonna be able to see the tattoo without you taking off your bra anyways. You're not gonna have to get naked.

But you kind of want to be, just to see what he thinks of you.

He's clearly scanning your face and rest of you for any sign of discomfort as he scoots closer to you, fingers pulling your shirt out from where you had it tucked into your shorts, before he slowly lifts it up, your hands lift to make it easier for him to pull it over your head.

Of course your underwear would be cute- lace rim sitting snug against your skin, little bows placed right where the straps begin, one singular one right in between the two cups that hold your tits all securely inside.

He actually thought about what they maybe look like. He didn't think they'd look this pretty.

"Can I touch you?" He wonders, and you shrug, before nodding, his hands surprisingly warm as he smiles, before he leans in a little closer. "Lay back for me a little, yeah?" He asks, voice lower than before, less clear, a lot more breathy. You nod, letting him help you lay back down as he sits right over your legs, knees digging into the couch below so that he doesn't put his weight on you.

He pushes up the hem under your bra, but you notice he's struggling a little not to go too far-

so you move your hands and unhook the back of your bra, catching him off guard as his hands leave you, eyes wide open before he laughs, face resting on your stomach, exhale from his nose tickling your skin.

"God damnit woman, give a man a warning!" He scolds, looking back up at you. "I thought I broke it!" He complains, causing you to laugh as well now.

"Sorry." You apologize, and he shakes his head, before he looks back at you. "You can take it off too." You approve, and he licks his lips, gaze now darkening quite a bit at the prospect of being allowed to do something like that.

He looks almost concentrated as he rids you off your underwear, leaving it to hang over the backrest of the couch to not get lost.

"That's, without exaggeration-" He says, leaning back a bit to look at you. "-the best pair of tits I've ever seen." He nods, playfully acting impressed, like an art-critic looking at a painting revealed. "Like, I know I'm supposed to look at the tattoo but wow.. can I touch them?" He wonders, and you nod- his entire demeanor making you feel awfully comfortable.

His palms immediately take the place of your bra earlier, and he personally thinks his hands are a way better fit and sight than the undergarment.

But maybe that's just him.

The moment he finds the tattoo however, he's interested. Fine lines, some already quite faded, no shadowing whatsoever. It's a simple flower design, very pretty, doesn't need any bold colors or more additions to it.

It's fine as it is. Fits you perfectly.

"I could re-trace those lines here. They're almost invisible- which happens a lot with fine line artworks.." He mumbles, before he notices your thighs move together.

Oh?

One look up reveals your flushed face, and only now does he notice the way his fingers must've continuously brushed over your by now hardened nipples. "But maybe I gotta get more familiar with... the client first." he purrs, hands moving as his body moves to lay lower, now his chin touching your stomach. "Hm?" He wonders, and you whine, unsure what to ask for.

How far does he want to even go? Does he want full on sex, or is he still only teasing you?

"Did you know that some girls can cum from only getting their tits touched?" He asks you boldly, and you shake your head, making him grin, before he runs his thumbs over your sensitive buds, a kiss placed right up onto the lowest part of your sternum.

"Wanna see if you're one of them?"

[swifty-fox]

the heart is a muscle ( a Christmas fic wip)

The radio is crooning christmas carols, and there’s still a few boxes of decorations left unpacked, and the shop is so warm it’s like being wrapped in a blanket, even when Gale shrugs his jacket off.

“Do you want some help finishing up?” he asks. Nods at the window, “Hanging those lights?”

John blinks, then covers his surprise with a ear to ear smile, “Shit, you’re just trying to hang around so you can steal my cookies.” 

“Correct,” Benny says.

Gale, who still had an entire box at home, just smirks at him.

“Well,” John drawls, “Since Buck here is so worried about me, I better say yes and set his poor mind at ease.” 

“Anything for Buck,” Macon agrees, reaching into the box and pulling out a soft plush reindeer, examining it with a critical eye. 

Gale sighs, “I’ve known these guys ten years, and you waltz in and in a goddamn month have them calling me by a whole new name.” 

John shrugs, procuring another stepladder from behind the desk and handing the other end of the lights to Gale, “Not my fault you look like a Buck.” 

Shaking his head, trying not to let the smile overtake his face, Gale climbs up to to the top step of the ladder, bracing himself on the window frame. Sees John watching the flex of his bicep out of the corner of his eye and leans just a bit more, just to see if John will continue to look. He does, and it’s not so much heat as it is playful flirtation, but it warms Gale all the same. 

There’s a lot of things about John that were warm. 

Gale feels it too as he reaches up to hook the lights over some ancient looking nails, taking in the shifting hues at the end of the strings. Up on the ladders they’re above the soft chatter of Macon and Benny arguing about the placement of decorations, and it feels almost private when their fingers brush on the middle nail, John’s browned just slightly with dirt and Gale’s just faintly speckled by ink.

 “Rainbow, huh?” he asks quietly.

John smiles out the window, a mild, sweet thing. Shrugs and pokes his tongue into his cheek as he adjusts a few of the strings until they lay flat, “Thought I’d try something different this year.” 

The Ronettes are singing about sleighs, and Gale can see the dark press of John’s underarm hair through his white shirt and John’s lights look far better than the sad drape back it Gale’s apartment, and his friends are down below and–

Gale’s foot slips on the ladder.

It’s only a few heart wrenching seconds of fall, a stomach-dropping feeling of weightlessness and mild shock, and a bit of amusement, before John’s catching his arm with one hand and helping him finish his fall more as a graceful stumble to the ground rather than a full blown collapse. He stares up at John, heart racing and John looks down at him, eyes wide and mouth pressed to a thin line of shock. His hand around Gale’s bicep is shaking slightly.

Still, his voice is steady as he asks, “Alright, Buck?”

Gale’s tongue feels dry and he works it around his mouth a couple times, “Fine, Bucky.” 

Fingers press into his arm, not quite bruising, but a firm squeeze. 

“Didn’t think you’d be the type to fall so easily,” John teases, though there’s still something a little dazed to his face.

“Usually I’ve got better balance,” Gale says, feeling like he’s missing a piece of a puzzle he wasn’t aware he was expected to solve.

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 22 . Pen Pals

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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_____,

I don’t understand why you prefer such a bothersome way of communication when we have communication devices but if it’s what you want. 

We have successfully acquired the earth attribute power that White Star is looking for. It’s currently in my possession but I did not absorb it so you don’t have to worry about my plate. I’ll explain everything to you once we see each other. The trial to get this power was in the form of battling a giant snake that can lure people by playing with their feelings such as sorrow. The sight wasn’t pretty. It was gruesome, something you wouldn’t want to see.

However, the ending sight was a spectacle. The way the snake turned into flower petals was quite pretty. I think you would have liked to see it for yourself. Nonetheless, you should stay there where it is safe. Ron has told you that he left some of the members of the Molan household in your care. Don’t hesitate to use them at your disposal.

Sincerely,

Cale

Dear Cale,

Thank you for indulging my whims and using letters as our way to communicate. I prefer it this way as this puts no pressure on you to respond immediately. As for my end of things, I’m doing fine. I hope you are too. Territory work is a lot harder than I anticipated. Paperwork is easy, as I’ve learned a lot from our time in Mogoru. However, everything else is physically taxing. Despite that, it’s manageable as I have a lot of people helping me. 

Again, please take your time. Whether it’s about responding to my letters or explaining your secrets to me. You can take it slow. Remember that I’ll just be here waiting whenever you are waiting.

Please stay safe and always take care of your health. I will be waiting until the next time I hear from you again.

Sincerely,

_____

Dear Count Perduellio,

Remember when we talked about giving the Dark Elves their territory? I have some great news to share with you. Thanks to the help of my younger brother, we might have a chance to acquire the Land of Death. If everything goes according to plan, the Dark Elves will be able to live aboveground soon. Until then, I shall trust you to take care of them.

As for other news, I am sure you have heard about Cale Henituse’s status right now in the Caro Kingdom. Fear not for he is safe. In fact, that punk is energetic enough to treat the crown prince’s bedroom as if it were his own. He’s currently eating my cookies as I write this letter.

That’s all I can share for now. I will update you if other news comes my way.

Sincerely,

Alberu Crossman

Dear Crown Prince Alberu,

I’m delighted to hear such news. It would be great if the Roan Kingdom could give the Dark Elves the Land of Death as they are already familiar with it. As for the Dark Elves within my care, they are also doing well. They have started to settle in the homes we have provided for them and have initiated socializing with the other residents. So far all of them are living in harmony. Children playing, the market bustling, humans and Dark Elves becoming friends. All of this is happening without discrimination.

Of course, I shall observe some more to make sure that all is going positively. However, Your Highness, can you write such brash words? If anyone else were to read your letter it would surely tarnish the reputation of our rising sun a little bit. Good thing we send our letters through special means that will keep their secrecy.

I hope the crown’s endeavours will go splendidly. I shall await more news once it arrives.

Sincerely,

_____ Perduellio

_____,

Have you been doing well? You’ve probably heard from his highness that I am fine despite what the rumours say. There are some things I found out that left me with more questions than answers. To solve that I will be visiting the World Tree. I only wrote this letter to inform you of that, so you won’t worry if ever you can’t contact me.

Sincerely,

Cale

Dear Cale,

I am doing well for the most part. But my body feels heavy these days along with a headache that will come and go. Don’t worry, the healer said it’s probably because of the weather and from me staring at documents too much. It will pass soon. 

You’re going to visit the World Tree? Be careful on your travels. I hope you get the answers you are looking for.

Sincerely,

_____

Dear Count _____,

I have heard from my eldest child that you are not feeling well. Some instances cannot be helped, but you must take care of yourself as much as possible. Do not be afraid to let your retainers and servants shoulder some of the work. You did not clean them up for nothing after all. 

After hearing about your condition I have ordered someone to send you some herbal tea that will help with your headaches. It can also improve your sleep quality. I would like to be there myself, but alas I must stay in the duchy for now.

I will make sure to visit you the first chance I get. Until then, take care of yourself and your health.

Sincerely,

Violan Henituse

Dear Duchess Violan,

I have received the herbal tea you have sent and truly works wonders. Some of my headaches are elevated and my sleep has improved these days. I shall use this tea well as thanks for your generosity. 

As another way to give my thanks, I have sent out a sample of a gem we are currently refining. The design is still in its early stage that’s why it may look a bit rough. I will make sure to send you another one once it’s complete. 

Sincerely,

_____ Perduellio

Dear _____-nim,

Good day _____-nim, are you doing well? Everyone in the duchy is worried about you as you have not responded to any of our letters for a while now. While taking care of work I have also noticed that the Perduellio Territory’s security has gotten tighter. They seem to be keeping something hush.

We are all worried about your silence. I sincerely hope that you are doing well and was just too busy to respond.

Please respond as soon as possible,

Basen Henituse

Dear Duke Henituse,

Good day duke, you may not be familiar with me so I shall introduce myself. I am Viscount Legalem, one of Count Perduellio’s retainers. I am sending this letter to inform you of the count’s condition. Our dear count has fallen unconscious and will not wake up. 

That may make you wonder why I am sending you a letter instead of contacting you through a communication device. I have three reasons to do so; (1) I want to respect Count _____’s decision. They have told me to contact you by letter if it’s not an emergency. I would like to honour that child’s decisions; (2) As I mentioned it is not an emergency, our healers have checked on them and said that nothing is wrong internally and they would be fine even in an unconscious state, and; (3) I have been told by Count _____ to contact either you or Commander Cale if something happens to them. I have no way of contacting the commander which is why I have turned to you.

Our healers and other experts who have checked on Count _____’s condition have found nothing wrong. However, I am still worried as they are not waking up no matter what we do. Thankfully, they are not injured, cursed, or poisoned. Regretfully, we still have not found the reason as to why they are unconscious.

The territory itself is doing well even in the absence of our count. Count _____ has always made sure to get ahead of their work as they said they aren’t sure when the commander will call for them. Nonetheless, our territory would very much appreciate it if you could lend some of your healers and experts to assess our count’s condition. A second opinion would be beneficial to see if our healers have missed anything.

Sincerely,

Viscount Legalem

[ploppythespaceship]

Uglies - Movie Thoughts

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

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

Spoilers for everything under the cut.

What I Liked

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

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

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

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

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

What I'm Mixed On

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

What I Didn't Like

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[goosewriting]

Class is now in session

summary: reader is in university and starts taking a liking to a certain redhead.

relationship: college AU biker!Cal Kestis x gn!reader

warnings: cameo fest, mentions of alcohol, cal punches a guy, idiots in love 😩💞, gets a lil spicy at the end 🫣 this might border on crack tbh

word count: 11k because i am deranged

A/N: this started out as an innocent college AU with jock!Cal, but my insta feed brought me back to the depths of biker guys x booktok girlies so this idea cemented itself into my brain and i just ran with it. this is 100% self-indulgent, packed with every trope i could think of, and got completely out of hand. i am not sorry. bon appetit :) 

[all masterlists] 🪶 [star wars masterlist] 🪶 [ao3]

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

A/N2: please excuse the pacing at the start, it's a bit of a mess. but i promise it gets better! also i use college and university interchangeably here because i’ve personally only been to uni, so sorry if it's confusing ;;-;;

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

As you’re leaving your first class at the new college, you think back to orientation week where you met Sabine. She’s the only one you know here now, other than Ahsoka, a friend from your home town who’s come to this university too for her masters. You have no idea how, but Ahsoka somehow managed to have you move in after her roomate left, so that you now share the flat, which you’re super happy about. At least one thing (or person) less to worry about.

In the class that just finished, you sat with Sabine, and she introduced you to Ezra, her friend from high school. So that’s now two people you at least know by name here. 

You hurry to get to your next class which is basically across campus in one of the bigger auditoriums, and it’s the biggest class by far. Sabine and Ezra don’t attend this one, so you don’t know anyone here. You look around as you cross into the room, observing how the students swarm in in waves, quickly taking their seats. Walking down to the middle row, you quickly scan the group, thinking who seems approachable to eventually start chatting. 

The class goes by rather quickly, being the first one and all, it was more about formalities than actual content. Someone had arrived just on time as the professor also walked in, a redhead that caught your eye, but the moment the class was over, he left quickly. In fact everyone leaves quickly, and you can’t help but be dragged along by the mass of people and you find yourself in the hallway, which just as quickly as it filled, is empty once more.

For lunch you meet with Sabine and Ezra, and you all get to know each other a little better. At first you thought they might be dating, judging by how close they seem, but they never mention it during your meal. If Sabine is willing to have boy talk with you, you make a mental note to ask her about it at some point.

In the afternoon, you start your job at the library. A tall and elegant woman, Shaak Ti, shows you the ropes, and soon you’re left to your own devices at the desk, doing some smaller tasks to get you started. Not soon after, Ahsoka comes by for a quick visit to say hi.

Your shift is almost over when someone comes up to the check-out desk where you sit. You hear them approaching, and as you lift your eyes from your work, you recognise it’s the redhead from today’s class. Putting on your best customer support smile and voice, you ask how you can help, and he says that the self check-out machine isn't working. 

How strange, you think, remembering how Shaak Ti showed you earlier how it works, and it did so just fine. But it’s quicker to just ring up his book now, and you could check the machine later. So you take the two books from him as well as his student ID and scan everything, doing your thing. You see his name on the ID: Cal Kestis. So that's what he's called. Maybe if you meet in class again, you could say hi. It would be super awkward if he didn't recognise you, though. 

Shaking away your thoughts for the moment, you repeat to him what Shaak Ti told you earlier about the borrowing of materials, the e-mail notice and that he can check the return date on his university account. Taking his books and card, Cal thanks you with a smile and leaves. Standing up from the desk after a moment, you go to the self check-out machine to see what’s wrong with it, trying to remember if Shaak Ti gave you the number for the technician. You try out the process several times with a random book and your ID and it works perfectly. Strange, you think again. 

By the time you get back to your dorm, which is a short bus ride away from campus, it’s already evening. You enter your room, grimacing a bit at how empty and lifeless it still looks. But you know you’ll be quick to decorate it and fill the space with your things to make it feel a bit more like home, albeit a temporary one.

Arriving at uni the next day, you get off the bus and walk towards the building. A motor bike passes you and parks in the designated area, your eyes unintentionally following the person, and you check them out a bit. The whole outfit, leather jacket and all, do look good, and you stare for perhaps a second too long. When the person takes off the helmet, you realise it’s the redhead from yesterday. He catches you looking at him and gives you an acknowledging nod and smile. Your head immediately turns the other way, cheeks burning at getting caught, and you walk away hastily, knowing this interaction will haunt you for the rest of the day since you could have just smiled or waved back instead of being so obvious. 

Back in the big class, he spots you again and gives a short wave and an unsure smile. This time you make sure to smile and wave back at him.

After lunch with Sabine, you’re at your locker, picking up some things, talking to her and Ezra who joined you as well. They both suddenly look over your shoulder behind you, and you turn around only to be faced with him.

“Seems like I keep seeing you everywhere,” Cal says, leaning sideways onto the lockers. “I think it’s time we finally get properly introduced, don’t you think?”

It doesn’t go unnoticed by you that he exchanges a look with Ezra, which you can’t really decipher, as you don’t know either of them well enough.  

“I’m Cal,” he introduces himself. “But I think you already knew that.”

You tell him your name, and as Ezra joins the conversation, it turns out they’re actually friends. 

“So how do you know him?” Sabine asks, her eyes going from Cal to you.

“ We share a class, and he came by the library yesterday,” you explain, taking a look at the time. “Which I actually should be heading to now. My shift starts soon.” 

Sabine gives you a strange knowing look too, to which you don’t know how to respond. But before you can ask what’s up, she says that Ezra and her have another class, so they leave.

Cal walks you to the library, claiming he has to go to practice and it’s on the way (its not). It’s a short walk but you’re racking your brain for something to fill up the silence. Unable to come up with anything better, you tell him that if he wants to check out another book, you can show him how to use the self check-out machine. 

“You said it was broken,” you say, tilting your head slightly in confusion. “But I checked and it worked just fine.”

“I know,” he responds after a second, and you turn to him with a ‘Huh?’. Smiling, he adds, “See you around.” 

And with that he leaves you by the library entrance, even more question marks circling in your mind. To your surprise and further confusion, you find that he didn’t leave you with just questions, but also a bit of a racing heart.

Finally the weekend rolls around, and Ahsoka is out with her best friend Rex and his buddies, so you invite Sabine over for a movie marathon and lots of snacks. Since it’s just the first week of class, you don’t have that many assignments yet, which you want to take advantage of while you can. 

As you’re both cosied up on the couch, you ask her about Ezra and if there’s anything between the two, and her face makes you laugh out loud. She says he’s more like a brother to her, since they’ve known each other for so long. But then she asks if there’s anyone you’re interested in.

You find yourself stumbling over your own words and end up somehow confessing to both her and your surprise, that you may have a teeny tiny crush on Cal. Sabine’s almost too excited about it and says you should tell Ezra so they can set you up on a date or something. But you make her promise she won’t tell either of them, to which she ends up agreeing. You don’t need the drama or the distraction; you just want to focus on classwork after all and survive one semester at a time. 

On Monday you have the big class again, and you stay after it’s done to ask Professor Kenobi something. Everyone is leaving the room, and he’s packing away his things as you approach his desk, starting to formulate your inquiries, but you see his eyes going past you for a moment, then looking at you again with a soft smile. 

“Why don’t you send your questions to my e-mail,” he offers. “Isn’t it your lunch break now? Wouldn’t want to hold you off, especially when there seems to be someone waiting for you.”

You blink a couple of times, then turn to look to the entrance door where, sure enough, Cal is waiting for you, leaning back onto the wall. He gives a short wave, which you quickly reciprocate, and you excuse yourself from the professor with heat prickling at your cheeks, telling him that you will do just that. 

As you reach the door, Cal pushes himself off the wall to walk beside you. Before you can ask him what he’s up to and why he waited for you, he talks first. 

“Are you eating at the cafeteria today? Wanna grab lunch together?”

You consider his offer for a moment, but then give him a short shrug.

“I’m not really super hungry and the menu today didn't have anything that I particularly crave, so I think I’ll just get something from the vending machine.”

“You sure? You shoudln’t skip meals, you know.”

“It’s fine, really,” you chuckle. “I’ll just get early dinner and I promise to eat something substantial.” “Yeah, you better,” he jokes, lightly pushing you with his shoulder.

Turning your face away to hide how flustered you’re getting at not just his playfulness but the fact that he waited for you, you reprimand yourself for a moment for getting your hopes up. Wanting to grab lunch with a classmate is normal! This is normal! Stop being weird, you tell yourself.

Just as you want to face Cal again to change the subject, you hear some voices from the hallway around the corner where the vending machines are. You think you recognise them, and you don’t know what on Earth compels you to, but you walk the few steps to take a peek. At the end of the hall, you see Professor Kenobi with a man. He’s tan, has broad shoulders and is very handsome. 

“Hello, my love,” Kenobi says in a low voice barely audible to you, and quickly leans in to kiss the stranger.

Your hand shoots up to cover your mouth before any sound of surprise can come out, and you quickly spin around, directly into Cal’s chest with an oomph.

“Wha–” Cal holds onto your shoulders to keep you from falling with how quickly you tried to recoil. “Whoa there, you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I feel like I just saw something I wasn’t supposed to,” you admit, hiding your face in your hands for a moment, then looking at him with big eyes.

This intrigues him, and Cal steps past you to take a look. 

“There’s no one there…?”

You look around the corner again as well, and the hallway is indeed empty.

“Prof Kenobi was just there a second ago, with someone else. Kissing,” you add the last part under your breath. 

“Oh?” Cal raises a brow, sounding strangely interested. “Well, let’s go see where they went.”

You shoot him an alarmed look.

“What? Why?”

But he’s already walking, looking over his shoulder and gesturing for you to follow with a playful smile. So you follow suit. You’ve never been to this part of the building, and compared to the bustle back where there were constant streams of people walking to and out of the cafeteria, here it’s surprisingly quiet. 

“I wonder where they even went,” Cal thinks aloud and stops where the hallway ends in a dead end. There’s several doors to the left, offices from the psychology faculty judging by the signs next to the doorframe. On the right there’s the big door leading to the staircase. There’s a paper sign stuck to it with tape that catches your attention, so you step closer to read it.

“Seems like the floors below are currently closed off because of repairs,” you paraphrase the warning sign. “So they must have gone up.”

You turn to look at him, and see realisation wash over his face, which quickly changes into a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Oh, is that where we are.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him in suspicion. 

“I heard that there was an off-limits floor in this wing. It’s been like that for years actually, not because they’re reparing something but because strange things happen there.”

You scoff, giving him an incredulous look.

“Didn’t take you for the superstitious type,” you deadpan. 

“I’m not.” He looks at the sign and back at you. “But c’mon, aren’t you a little curious? They say it’s haunted, but if you go there and come back out, then you’ll have good luck in… passing your exams.”

“...Did you just make that up?” you question, crossing your arms over your chest defensively and raising a brow at him. 

“...No?” Cal retorts, and it’s anything but convincing. Taking a step closer to you, he adds, “Come on, don’t you feel the call of adventure?”

“The only call you’ll feel is your emtpy stomach when you’re training,” you say, taking one last glance at the big door, then looking at Cal. “Shouldn’t you be having lunch right now?”

“I can eat later,” he shrugs. 

“I thought skipping meals was a no-no.”

“I can make an exception today. For both of us.”

Before you even have a chance to stop him, he pushes open the door to the staircase, and you see there’s a chain blocking the way to the stairs leading down, but he steps over it, looking back and offering his hand to you. 

You look up, listening for anyone who might be coming downstairs, but it’s still silent. Almost eerily so. You look at Cal’s face for a moment, and sigh in defeat, taking his expecting hand. He grins in victory. 

“You’re being a horrible influence, you know that?” you say with a playful smile.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a little bad every now and then,” he points out with a wink, and you roll your eyes at him to hide the beat your heart just skipped. 

You both walk down the stairs, taking out your phones to use as a flashlight since it’s so dark. Cal pushes open the big door to the main hallway, and you’re hit with the typical smell of a basement; it’s humid and a little musky, but not necessarily unpleasant. You take a look around, and it’s a mirror of the floor above. The doors to the offices are open though, one is even missing the door completely, and Cal walks in without hesitation, so you follow him. 

You’re not normally one to get scared about things like these, especially knowing that the haunted story has probably started as a rumour that got way out of hand throughout the years. This section probably just got closed off because of a water leak or something. 

“One of the guys on the team told me that there used to be meetings of a secret cult down here.”

“Okay, now you’re just messing with me,” you laugh, and you point your light to him to see him. He blocks the light from his eyes with his hand but you can see the goofy smile on his face. 

“I can’t believe I followed you down here,” you say, taking a step towards him, but something behind him catches your attention. You direct your light to the wall, and he turns around to do the same. There’s a pinboard full of old notes and photographs. Looking at the small table underneath it, you can see a lot of the things that once hung on the wall have since fallen down, decaying. Inspecting the remaining notes on the pinboard though, you notice that there are many that seem newer, the papers are clearer, crisp, untouched by the humidity down here. Many of them are simply just letters and numbers, like… initials and dates? You’re about to take a closer look at what’s written on them when a reflection from the table catches your eye.

Directing your light down onto the table, you move away some scattered papers to reveal the object that was partially hidden beneath: a locket in the shape of a heart. You stretch out your hand to pick it up but Cal stops you.

“Maybe- maybe don’t touch that.”

“Why not?” you ask without looking up. You can faintly make out the engraved letters “P&A” on the metallic surface.  

“It could have lead. Or something.”

“That’s… a good point, actually,” you agree, and you retrieve your hand, your nose crinkling slightly in disgust at what could be lying around. “It’s the first time you’ve made sense since we got here. Who knows what else is here. Actually, we should leave–” You turn to where Cal was standing earlier, a couple of steps away, but you find him standing right in front of you now, caging you in between himself and the table behind you. He’s still holding his phone with the light aiming up, so his face is contoured in sharp white, highlighting the scars across his face. You had noticed them before, and thought they added character to his face. But now, with his eyes gazing into yours like that, momentarily flickering down to your lips and back up, you feel the urge to reach out and trace over them.

The air has completely shifted between you two, and your heartbeat quickens at the realisation. His free hand has somehow found its way around your wrist, and he’s leaning in closer ever so slowly.

You open your mouth to say something but you’re cut short by a sudden thud. You both flinch in surprise, aiming your lights to where the sound came from. You see a book, now on the floor, that hadn’t been there before, and a small cloud of dust settling around it. Aiming the light a little to the side and up, you can clearly see the spot where it fell out of the shelf, as there’s no dust on the wooden surface. 

“We should– I think we’ve overstayed our welcome,” you say after clearing your throat.

“Right.”

You quickly step around Cal and head for the staircase, swiftly walking up the steps and, after momentarily listening for any bypassers, climb over the chain. Cal follows closely, and you both pocket away your phones. You’re reaching out your hand to open the heavy door that leads back into the building, when he quickly grabs your wrist, holding your shoulder with his other hand to pull you away from the thin vertical window next to the door.

“Wait, there’s someone out there.”

“So what, we could have come from upstairs,” you say, trying to ignore the way your skin tingles where he’s holding you again.

He peeks through the glass, his eyes going wide for a moment, then stepping away again, a silly smile playing on his lips.

“It’s Kenobi. And he's not alone.”

You dare take a peek through the glass, and catch a quick look at Kenobi and the man from earlier, both coming out of one of the offices with slightly dishevelled hair. 

“If he sees us, we’re so dead,” you say under your breath and lean back away, out of view. On one hand, you’d definitely be in trouble because from the short time you’ve known him, Professor Kenobi seems like the type of person to be really good at reading others, so he’d definitely know you two were up to no good if he confronted you two, especially you; you’re not a good liar. But also he saw Cal waiting for you after class, so surely he’d think something was going on between you two. Then again, would that bother you? Is there something going on between you and Cal? Do you want there to be something? You’re not entirely ready yet to answer that for yourself, especially not right now after what happened earlier, whatever that was. He was totally going to kiss you, right? In a basement of all places?

“The coast is clear,” Cal finally says, and your reeling mind can come to a halt again. He looks down at where his hand is still holding onto you, and quickly lets go, taking a step back, clearing his throat. “Sorry about that. Uh, after you.”

He holds the door open for you, and you walk through, dusting off your clothes of anything that may trace you back to the forbidden underground. Cal makes his way to the office he saw Kenobi come out of and inspects the sign, chuckling to himself.

“Ah, look at that,” he says, and you approach, seeing the name on the sign: ‘Cody Kenobi’. So the man earlier was his husband. 

“Get it prof, I guess,” you mutter more to yourself than to him, but Cal snorts at your comment.

“C’mon, let’s go,” he says, and you two make your way back to where you initially came from. 

Since Cal still has to get food, you part ways and he heads to the cafeteria. And just like that, you’re back at the vending machine, yet again plagued by the decision of what to get, as well as a million questions racing through your mind.

When your shift at the library ends that day, it’s already the late afternoon. It was pretty slow today again, you mainly just spent your time cataloging some new books and putting back returned ones to their respective spots.

As you’re approaching the bus stop, you can see the bus already there, so you fall into a light jog to catch up on time. Except that everyone is standing outside instead of being inside the bus. The driver is standing on the sidewalk as well, talking on the phone in an irritated tone.

“What happened?” you ask one of the people sitting on the bench.

“The bus broke down,” she explains with a tired sigh, pointing to where the engine door has been lifted, and you can see some faint smoke coming out of the vents. “The driver said we have to wait for the next bus.”

You don’t need to look at the timetable to know that at this time of day, the busses get more and more infrequent. You might as well walk home. It won’t necessarily be quicker than waiting for the next one, but you don’t want to just sit still for the next half hour. 

After saying your thanks to the person, you keep walking down the sidewalk to start your trek home. Luckily, there’s a pedestrian path away from the street that is actually quite picturesque to walk, partially going through the woods too, so at least you’ll have a nice view as you ruminate over the day’s events.

To get to the path leading into the forest, you take a shortcut through the parking lot, which to your surprise is not as empty as you would have imagined at this time. You’re not really planning on running into anyone, already lost in thought, so it takes you very much by suprise when you hear your name called out. You turn around to see Cal standing by his bike, waving to you. You wave back with a smile, which is quick to disappear though as you remember your interaction earlier. You just want to get home to crawl into your bed and wallow in self-pity for a bit, but the redhead calls you to him.

“I saw the bus broke down,” he says as you get closer, zipping up his leather jacket and tucking his helmet under his arm. “Need a ride home?”

No, you think, being near you is short circuiting my brain and I need to sort that out.

“I’ve never been on a bike before, though,” comes out of your mouth instead. 

“Well, lucky for you I’d be the one driving,” he says with a smile. “As a backpack you just have to lean into the curves, but there’s not much more than that.”

“Backpack?”

“Ah, yeah, that’s what we call the person sitting behind the driver.” You spot the faintest of blushes creeping onto his face, adorning his freckles. “So, what do you say?”

His face, full of expectation, leaning into childish glee almost, is impossible to resist. Heaving a sigh, you laugh a bit to yourself, throwing your hands up in surrender.

“You know what. Why not. We already went to a haunted room today, might as well get ‘riding on a motorbike’ off my bucket list today, too.”

“Great!” Cal’s face lights up at your positive response, and he seems to notice it and clears his throat to take his excitement down a notch. He moves to the side a bit so you can take a better look at the bike, telling you its name is BD-1, and doing the whole introduction thing where he points to you, then to the bike and back, saying your name, BD, BD, your name. You have to bite back a smile at how endearing you find that. After what happened today, it’s nice to see that he also has this cute side to him. Playing along, you greet the bike with a ‘Hi BD!’ and pat the handlebar as if it was a dog. Cal chuckles, and produces a second helmet seemingly out of thin air, presenting it to you.

“Wha– Where did you–”

“A biker never reveals his secrets,” he says with a wink, and puts on his own helmet. Your grips tightens lightly on the one you’re now holding as you avert your gaze from his visor. This guy will absolutely be the end of you.

Cal helps you put on the helmet, adjusting the buckle strap underneath your chin and making sure it’s comfortable but not too loose. Turning to the bike, he folds down some pegs on either side of the back wheel, indicating that that’s where you’re going to put your feet, then he gets on first.

“Once you’re on, you can either hold onto me or place your hands here–,” he shows you, patting the round, elevated part of the bike in front of him. “– on the tank.” 

Then he instructs you to hop on by placing one foot first to lift yourself off the ground and swing your other leg over. Holding onto his shoulders for balance, you do just that, tightening the straps on your own backpack (pun unintended) so it doesn’t move around once you’ll be on the move. You scoot in your seat a couple of times until you feel your balance settle.

“You good?” he asks, and you realise you’ll surely have a hard time hearing him once you’re driving, over the sound of the engine and the wind.

“Yup!” you reply, taking a shuddering breath that seems to resonate within your helmet, as you snake your arms around his waist, interlocking your fingers.

You feel his torso tense up ever so slightly at the touch, and he kicks up the stand. 

“If I pat your leg it means to hold on tighter, okay?”

“Got it,” you confirm, and he tests it out by patting the outside of your knee twice, and you lean even more into him, if that’s possible, tightening your grip. You just hear him chuckle, then start the engine. 

He makes a round or two on the parking lot so you can get used to the feeling, and once you feel more comfortable, he heads out onto the street.

As you’ve already mentioned at some point that you live at the dorms, he knows where to take you. You can tell he’s riding extra carefully, not zooming through in-between cars and making sure that the stops and starts at the traffic lights are smooth.

Because of the noise and the helmets, having a conversation is unfortunately impossible, so you just enjoy the sensations. The whistle of the wind rushing by you, the humming of the engine, which you can feel in your whole body, both through the bike itself and Cal. The way he taps your leg when you loosen your grip without noticing. At least it was on accident the first time. After some minutes you tried it again, slowly letting go, and his gloved hand was on your leg again, lingering this time until you held on properly. Then he placed his hand over both of yours, giving a light squeeze. Ah, did he catch on? 

Alas, the ride is already over by the time you feel like you really mastered being a proper backpack, and the bike slows down as Cal drives into the street of your apartment complex. 

Once he fully stops and kicks down the stand, he gives your arms a pat, indiciating for you to hop off. Misjudging the height and being slightly sore from the unfamiliar seating position, you don’t properly step onto the ground, your knee giving in and the rest of your body threatening to follow. But Cal is quick to catch you and bring you back to your feet without even having gotten off completely himself.

“You alright?” he asks, sliding off the seat completely, then taking off his helmet and running his hand through his hair. His red fiery hair, now messed up from the helmet… You really want to run your own fingers through it. 

At your lack of response, he leans a bit closer into your visor, repeating the question. You snap out of your trance with a sheepish laugh, trying and failing to undo the buckle on the helmet strap. Cal takes off his gloves and skillfully opens it, helping you remove the thing. You don’t even want to know what your hair looks like right now, so you try your best to smooth it out blindly. 

“I’m good, yes. Guess getting on is easier than getting off the bike.”

“It gets easier with practice,” he responds. “That is, if you ever want to ride again. You can. I mean with me. If you’d like.”

He looks around, the driveway is luckily empty, so no one can see him embarrass himself by stumbling over his own words. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you; he’s too cute.

“I’d love to, if you’ll let me.”

“Of course. You did good today.”

You look in the direction of your dorm, then down at the helmet you’re still holding.

“Guess you need this back, then.”

“I don’t have any way to carry it right now, so why don’t you hold onto that for now,” he starts, scratching the back of his neck as he leans back a bit to half sit on the side of the bike. “Besides, the bus might break down again. Why don’t I give you a ride to class tomorrow morning, too?”

By now your heartrate is absolutely out of control. How does he look so effortlessly cool? And he’s inviting you to ride again? Maybe more than once? 

You involuntarily hug the helmet to your chest, hoping the sound of your erratic hearbeat doesn’t echo through it and make it loud enough for Cal to hear. Taking out his phone, he suggests exchanging numbers so you can text him when to pick you up and he can tell you when he’s on his way. Taking it from his hands, you type in your number and call, hearing your own ringtone coming from your pocket, and give it back. You don’t see what he types in as your contact name as he’s quick about it, putting the device away again.

“See you tomorrow, then,” you say, swaying back and forth lightly on the ball of your feet. “Thank you for taking me home. It was fun.”

“My pleasure,” he says with a genuine smile. “And don’t forget your substantial dinner.”

With that, he puts on his helmet. As he gets onto the bike and kicks back the stand, you consider running up to him one last time to place a kiss on his helmet, but you find yourself paralysed by… what exactly, you don’t know.

“Drive safe!” you call out to him instead with a wave, as he drives onto the street. He gives you a two finger salute, tires screeching on the pavement as he takes off. Yeah, he was definitely being considerate of you when you were on the bike. 

You feel like you’re floating on a cloud and being pulled down by a gravity tenfold as strong, all at the same time. You’re clearly into him. It seems he’s interested as well. What’s holding you back? These and many other questions roam your brain as you try to fall asleep that night.

The next morning, as promised, Cal is waiting for you. This time he brings a proper biker jacket as well, which is padded in the important places. Where he got it from and how he knows your size, you don’t even bother asking, knowing he wouldn’t tell.

Despite the buses working just fine, form that day on it becomes somewhat of a routine. Whenever your schedules will allow it, he’ll take you to class and back home. You offer paying for gas since going by your place is out of his way, even though he insists it isn’t. He never takes you up on your offer.

Weeks go by in the blink of an eye, both of you getting more comfortable around each other, engaging in friendly banter bordering in flirtations, but never really crossing the line or making an actual move. Before you know it, exams are just around the corner, so the library is busy. Still, you manage to study in the slower hours. But you keep catching yourself looking at the entrance, waiting for a certain someone to walk in. 

After exams are over, Sabine and Ezra organise a well deserved party at her place. Her family is away for the weekend, but they were okay with a party as long as it doesn’t get out of hand. Ahsoka also invites a handful of her friends so there’s a decent amount of people of different ages. You have friendly chats with many of them, who also give you good tips on studying,  the best places to get coffee near uni, or tell you funny stories about the teachers. 

The party is where you meet Anakin and Padme, Ahsoka’s best friends aside from Rex, who are more or less the power couple at the university. They’ve been together since the first year and everyone knows about them. Even you have heard a lot about them; there are some wild rumours around. But you’re seeing them for the first time now, and you can’t shake the feeling that they look familiar. 

As you, Sabine, Ahsoka and the two are standing in the kitchen, sipping on your drinks, the conversation somehow flows into urban legend territory. That’s where Padme tells you and Sabine about the lovebird legend, saying that there is an off-limits room in the uni building where it is said that a couple died tragically as the ceiling came down on them. 

“Despite the tragedy, the legends still make people go down there to leave their pictures and love notes,” Padme explains. 

“Alleged tragedy,” Anakin interjects with a playful roll of his eyes. “If something had actually happened down there, they would close it off properly.” He turns to you as he sees your blank expression, which he interprets as being scared, and gives you a reassuring pat on the back. “Nothing happened down there, trust me.”

Except that your face went blank not out of fear, but because you finally connected the dots.

“Yeah, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” Padme reminisces, linking her arm onto Anakin’s, who looks down at her with an adoring smile. “Even we went down to leave our own note, remember? And it seems it worked.”

“How could I forget,” Anakin laughs. “Initials, picture, locket; we did the whole package.”

The locket you saw that day in the basement comes to your mind. The engraved initials: P & A. 

Padme and Anakin.

And now you can also vaguely recognise their younger selves in one of the pictures you see on the wall.

Snapping back into reality, you look at Anakin.

“Is this… common knowledge?” you ask, fidgeting with the drink in your hands. “Does everyone know that’s what it is? Or are there some people who think it’s haunted?”

“Not really?” Anakin shrugs. “I don’t know of anyone who’s ever thought it was actually haunted. Again, the accident is just a rumour to make it more tragic.”

“Yeah, everyone who hears about the story knows people go there hoping to ensure a good love life,” Padme confirms.

“Huh, is that so…” you trail off, heat quickly rising to your face, visible to everyone no doubt, but you can’t be bothered to hide it right now. So Cal knew? He must have known, right? 

Sabine elbows you into the side, almost making you spill your drink. 

“What’s got you so flustered suddenly?” She narrows her eyes at you, full of mischief. “Don’t tell me, you want to go leave a note for you and you know who?”

That seems to get you out of your trance, and your head snaps back up, frantically looking around to make sure Cal isn’t anywhere near you two. But he’s actually nowhere to be seen, probably outside with his team buddies who are hogging the grill.

“Do you still need to leave a note when you’ve already been there with the person in question?” you ask at no one in particular, and Ahsoka exchanges a knowing look with Anakin and Padme.

“You what?!” Sabine whisper-screams. “How? When?”

“Uuh, a couple of weeks ago,” you say, suddenly remembering the other thing you saw that day. “Also, did you know Kenobi is married? And that his husband is part of the psychology department? They totally made out in the husband’s office.”

Sabine’s face morphs into several different things consecutively, first confusion at why you’re bringing that up now, then questioning why you even know that, then wondering if she even wants to know. 

“You know,” Padme interjects. “Obi-Wan and Cody Kenobi were actually one of the first ever couples to leave their note in the basement. If they’re still together, then it really must work, huh.” She leans in ever so slightly, lowering her voice as she asks you, “Why, is there anyone you’re interested in? Someone who wouldn’t happen to be here right now?”

You pull a bit of a grimace and look to Ahsoka, who had followed the whole thing with amusement but without intervening. Seeing your pleading look, she nods, indicating that Padme is trustworthy with these kind of things. 

“Yes, actually,” you reply in a small voice. “To both.”

Padme clasps her hands together in delight, asking if you’ll show her the person in question. Anakin just laughs, saying he’ll go find something to eat, and Ahsoka joins him. So it’s just you, Padme and Sabine left. You walk around for a while until you find your favourite redhead leaning on the open doorframe that leads to the yard, talking to one of his teammates. They’re all wearing their team jackets, and you can’t help your eyes roaming his body for a moment, enjoying the view. 

As if he could feel your eyes on him, he suddenly turns his head to you, and you get caught yet again staring. But this time you don’t look away in shame, you stand your ground and give him a smile and a small wave, which he returns, then goes back to his conversation as if nothing happened.

You turn back to the girls, both of them giving you a knowing smile and little giggles. 

“Oh, shut up, you.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” Sabine says. 

“Your face said it all.”

“Yeah, as did yours,” she teases. 

You groan, burying your face in your hands. You might as well be on actual fire right now, as hot as you feel. 

“I’m getting another drink,” you say, pinching Sabine in the cheek and looking to Padme. “Please make sure she doesn’t embarrass me any further.”

Padme laughs but agrees, promising to keep an eye on her.

You walk to the kitchen, where a new group of people has claimed the space to have their conversation. You quickly refill your cup, excusing yourself from them with a polite nod, and leave through the other door, looking for a way outside to get some fresh air. But you find yourself in what seems to be the dining room. This house is so big, I think I might actually get lost here, you think, looking around for another exit. 

You turn on your heels when a guy, evidently drunk, approaches you. Givng him a quick once over, you find that you don’t recognise him. While this was a closed invitation party, unfortunately there’s always the few people who think it’s okay to just bring another buddy along who also brings their friend, leading to a handful of people that no one really invited or even knows. This is one of them. 

You intend to walk past him, but he takes a side step to block your path. Taking a quick step back to have some distance between you and him, you try the other side, but again he cuts you off.

“Can you let me through?”

“What are you doing here all alone?” His words are slurred, and he suddenly grabs onto your wrist with a strong grip.

“Wha–? Let me go!” The back and forth until you finally manage to get your arm free makes you spill your drink onto the floor.

He seems unfazed by this, grunting in annoyance and trying to grab you again, but you evade his movements this time, taking several steps back.

“I said back off! Leave me alone!”

Now he has you cornered against the wall, and you consider your options. He stretches out his hand again to take ahold of you, but before he reaches you, Cal has appeared through another archway to your right and grabs the guy by the collar of his shirt, pulling him away from you. Two of his football buddies follow.

“Which part of ‘back off’ do you not understand?” he growls at the guy, letting him go with a shove. “Get lost.”

“And who do you think you are? You’re interrupting–” the guy starts, grabbing Cal by the shoulder and turning him around, but before he can even finish his sentence, Cal clocks him in the jaw, and the guy falls to the ground ungracefully, landing in your puddle from earlier with a grunt. The two other guys that arrived with Cal grab him, one arm each, and carry him away, probably outside to kick him out. 

Cal turns to you, shaking the hand he hit the other guy with. 

“Are you okay?” he asks as he approaches you, wanting to hold your arms, but his hands only hover over you as he looks you over for any injuries. 

“I’m– I’m okay. Thank you,” you croak out, blinking repeatedly to process what just happened. Cal gingerly holds your wrist up, inspecting it. You can already see some dark marks forming where the guy before had grabbed you. Cal’s thumb strokes over the inside of your wrist soothingly, his eyes finding yours, and you’re unable to look away. He’s about to say something when voices call out to you. He turns around to see Sabine, Ahsoka and Ezra approaching.

“Are you okay? What happened?” she asks, seeing the puddle on the ground just in time and walking around it.

“Some guy was really drunk, he grabbed my arm and–”

“And I punched him,” Cal finishes.

Sabine raises a brow at that, giving you a look.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry,” Ezra apologises. “I told everyone to not just show up with random people. This shouldn’t have happened.”

“Ezra, it’s okay. Really guys, I’m fine.” You swallow down whatever is trying to bubble up, be it a nervous breakdown after a scary situation or just the fact that Cal saved your bacon. Shoving it all into the back of your brain to deal with later, you smile at your friends. “The jerk is dealt with, it’s all good, really. Now let’s go back to enjoying the party. I heard you have a karaoke machine?”

“Yeah,” Sabine says and gives you a questioning look. ‘You sure you're okay?’ At the insistence in your own eyes, she nods. “Okay then, let’s go sing our lungs out. C’mon, guys.”

Ezra apologises again before following Sabine. Ahsoka asks you if you’re sure you’re good, you insist that yes everything is fine, so she leaves as well.

You look to Cal with a grateful smile, about to head out as well, but he stops you.

“Uhm, actually, I’ve been meaning to ask,” he says, again scratching his neck in that adorably shy manner, and your breath might or might not have hitched there. “Next week we have a big game against another school team. Do you want to come? And possibly cheer for us?”

“I was wondering if I could ever go to one of your games,” you reply sincerely, smiling up at him. “I’ll cheer for you.”

“For my team or for me specifically?” he remarks with an inquisitive grin, but to your relief, the music from the living room hits your ears before you can even come up with a smooth reply.

“Oh, that’s my jam, c’mon!” You hook your arm around Cal’s and drag him to where everyone’s waiting, both of you laughing. 

— — — — —

The match is intense. You don’t really know all the rules, but you can feel the tension in the air.  

You cheer for Cal from where you sit on the bleachers with Sabine, Ezra and everyone else, all of you shouting and cheering. You haven’t even entirely recovered from the karaoke session, so this surely isn’t helping your vocal chords, but you don’t care. 

Every now and then he looks up from where he is on the field, searching for you in the crowd. He pats the outside of his knee twice when he does, and every time you can feel the rush of heat and giddiness crashing over you. It’s the same gesture he does when you’re on his bike. It’s like a secret signal between the two of you. You don’t care about biting back the giant smile on your face or trying to hide how flustered you look every time he spots you among the audience, and Sabine catches on.

The timer on the giant screen counts down the last seconds of the match, both teams are tied. Cal goes into the offensive, and they make one heck of a play, scoring the last point just before the timer buzzes. Everyone in the audience stands up cheering, clapping, whistling. You as well.

As the announcer wraps up the game and the players leave for the changing rooms, Sabine and you head down to the entrance. Many are already leaving, since the match is over, but friends and family of the players are waiting for them to come out to celebrate.

Sabine and Ezra exchange curious looks with each other, and Sabine elbows you into the side.

“So?” Ezra asks. 

“So what? “ you retort. 

“Are you gonna make a move?” Sabine chimes in. 

“On Cal?”

“Who else!"

“I don’t know…” you respond, unsure. “I don’t want to read too much into it–”

“Ohmygod,” Ezra groans as he shakes you by the shoulders. “You’re both so smitten with each other, it’s starting to be unbearable to watch.

You laugh nervously. Does he really think that? 

“Guys! Here they come,” Sabine interrupts you two as she spots the winning team.

Ezra lets go of you after one last shake, and you all turn to face the players, now showered and changed back into their normal clothes. 

Cal’s eyes roam the space until they find yours, and you think you might go blind by his smile. He’s positively glowing. You’re just expecting to maybe hug him, congratulate him on the win, and then you’ll all go get food together as you’ve planned.

Instead, Cal doesn’t slow down as he approaches you, throwing his arms around your torso and lifting you into the air, spinning you around a couple of times. You hold on to him with a squeak of surprise, and he laughs so heartily, you’re actually glad he’s holding you in the air, because your legs surely would have given out.

Once gently placed back onto the ground, you just kind of look at each other, until Ezra loudly clears his throat, and Cal quickly lets go of you. After you guys say your congratulations to Cal and the rest of his team, you head out to the restaurant. It’s nearby so you decide to walk, the weather is nice even though it's the evening.

The rest of the night, you and Cal seem to tiptoe around each other, like there’s suddenly an invisible line that has been drawn, and you’re both waiting for the other to cross over first. You exchange smiles, glances, accidental touches followed by apologies.

Once the food is gone and the adrenaline starts depleting, it’s time to head home. Cal offers to walk you home, since you’re still relatively close to the dorms. Anakin drove to the game, so he takes the rest back with him in his car.

After you say your goodbyes to the group, not without getting some definitely non-inconspicuous looks from your two besties, it dawns on you that once you’re home, Cal will be stranded there. You bring it up to him, and for a minute you actually consider offering for him to stay the night, but you’re actually not mentally or emotionally prepared for that. So you’re glad when he says he doesn’t mind, he’ll just get a cab or something when he's there, since he got a ride with his coach to the game today and didn’t ride his bike. 

You’re walking down the street in comfortable silence, surrounded by the darkness that's already taken over the sky. You look up expecting to see stars, but you’re disappointed to see clouds. In fact, dark, low hanging clouds, threatening to spill over any moment. 

“Huh, when did it get this stormy,” you wonder aloud, and as if on cue, a gust of wind picks up, sending some leaves and debris flying over the street.

“I’m pretty sure there was no rain announced today–” 

The moment Cal says that, it comes pouring down all at once. 

“What the–! Argh!” you groan in frustration at the sudden downpour, but Cal just laughs, taking your hand as he pulls you away.

“Come on!”

You let yourself be led to take shelter under an awning. You look down at yourself, already soaked even though you were exposed for mere seconds. The sound of rain hitting the ground drowns everything else. You look out with a pout, knowing you’ll have to wait out the weather to get anywhere. 

Suddenly you feel a weight on your shoulders. You look to the side to see Cal placing his varsity jacket on you, and you’d be lying if you weren’t welcoming the warmth. Given that today was supposed to be a clear night, you didn’t really have that many layers, so you gladly slide your arms into the sleeves, hugging yourself. 

Instead of letting go completely of the jacket though, Cal keeps readjusting the collar, tugging on one side so that you turn until you’re fully facing him. A droplet of water falls from his hair onto his cheek. You uncross your arms, slowly bringing your hands up to his forearms, shyly holding onto them. 

“Can i kiss you?” he asks without looking away. And you couldn’t have even if you wanted to, it’s like his ocean eyes held yours in a tight embrace, unable to move. You don’t answer immediately, despite every fiber in your body screaming yes!

“I’m scared,” you finally say in a small voice, almost getting drowned out by the raging rain. Cal’s head backtracks a bit in surprise. 

“What of?” 

“It’s silly,” you pout again, this time looking away, but his hand finds your cheek, bringing your gaze back to him.

“You can tell me,” he assures you. You let out a sharp breath of frustration at yourself. 

“I’ve just… never felt like this before,” you admit. “I'm scared of how much of an effect you have over me, I suppose, and as such making a fool of myself. I want you to like me, so badly.”

Cal tilts his head slightly to the side, offering a warm reassuring smile.

“I can assure you, I feel the same way about you.”

“I don't believe you,” you retort with a scoff. “You always look so collected and confident and just generally cool.”

“On the outside, maybe. But trust me, I'm freaking out on the inside. Check for yourself.”

He takes your hand and places it on his chest, leaving his hand on yours. His heart is beating at a quick pace. The moment you look up again and meet his eyes, the pace picks up. In the faint light you can see a blush spreading on his face, heart pounding against his ribcage, with yours to match.

“Same here,” you say.

“I know,” he replies with a bit of mischief, his other hand on your cheek moving down a bit to your neck, where you now know he can feel your pulse. 

You know he’s still waiting for your answer, but you decide to tease him. Just a bit. Besides, this question has been burning on your tongue for what feels like an eternity now.

“When we went down to the basement, you knew it wasn’t haunted, right?” you ask, and he has to adjust to the sudden change of topic, looking surprised at first, then laughing heartily. You continue, “You knew it was a thing that couples do?” 

“Ah, you got me,” he replies with a light shrug. 

“Did you plan the whole thing out from the start?”

“Actually, no.” He looks away for a moment with a faint smile, thinking back to that day, then meets your eyes again. “I did want to go there with you but didn’t know how to ask. Then I saw you at the vending machine, and the whole thing with Kenobi happened, and it was just too good of an opportunity to pass.”

“I can’t believe I got played like that,” you say with a dramatic sigh. “You know, had you told me back then that you liked me, I would have gone willingly to the basement to leave a note.”

“Guess I was scared, too.”

“That’s fair,” you say, your hands coming up to his face to hold it properly now. You smooth your thumb over his cheekbone, and he leans into your touch. “Well, now that that’s sorted out: yes, yes you can.”

Cal leans in, catching your lips in his, and he holds you so tenderly, you might as well melt down and get swept away by the rain. Your whole body burns, and you grab a fistful of his shirt in an attempt to pull him closer. His hands travel down your arms to snake around your waist between his jacket and your damp shirt, holding you up as you involuntarily put more of your weight on him, the legs under you threatening to give in completely. 

He breaks the kiss and pulls back only enough to pepper your whole face in little kisses, making you giggle.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while,” he remarks, trailing kisses down your jaw, then coming back up to place one last kiss on your lips, which you chase after as he pulls back again, and he chuckles.

“We should get going,” he says, taking your hands in his. “The rain stopped, we should get you home before you catch a cold.”

“Right,” you mumble, still trying to come down from the high of that kiss.  

You start walking down the street hand in hand, and you swing them back and forth between the two of you. You’re almost at your place when he gets a call. Taking his phone out, he picks up and puts it on speaker; it’s Anakin. He asks if Cal needs a ride because of the sudden rain.

“You’re asking now?” Cal laughs. “Well, you sure took your time.”

“I assumed you were… occupied.”

Your face burns up yet again, tips of your ears on fire, as Cal shoots you a funny look.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he says into the phone.

“Oh my god–!” you squeak, hiding your face in your hands as you hear Padme’s cheering in the background. “But yes, please come pick him up. Or he might get sick. We’re both soaking wet.”

Cal holds back a laugh, and you grab onto his wrist to bring the phone closer to you.

“From the rain! Soaked from the rain!” you say firmly into the phone. “Geez...!”

After some more snickers, Anakin and Cal coordinate where he should pick him up. It’s just a street over from your dorm, so you have to part ways there.

“Let’s go somewhere this weekend,” Cal suggests as you’re hugging him goodbye.

“Like where?”

“I’ll show you one of my favourite spots. How about that? Bring your helmet.” 

“Ooh, roadtrip with BD. I’m in,” you agree.

Cal leans in to leave a lingering kiss on your cheek, but before he can pull back completely, you sneak in a peck on the corner of his mouth. Even in the darknes, the streelight the only source of illumination, you can see the furious blush on his face. If it were up to you, you’d kiss him until the sun comes back up, but the both of you really need to take a warm shower and get to bed. 

“It’s a date then,” Cal says with a wink and takes a couple of steps back, waving at you, then turning fully to walk towards the pick-up spot. 

“Yeah, a date…” you whisper to yourself dreamily.

— — — — —

True to his word, Cal takes you to his favourite place. You packed some food and drinks for the road, then headed out. By now you’re far more comfortable on the bike, so you can actually enjoy the view as well. The farther away you get from the city, the more you’re surrounded by forests, farms and you even cross a lake. Starting to gain elevation as he drives up the meandering narrow street, you arrive at a vantage point of sorts. There’s a small parking lot by the road, with a public restroom and some picnic tables. You two get off the bike, walking to the fence which feels to be right at the edge of the cliff, showing a fantastic view into a giant valley.

Your date takes its course; you eat, you chat, you even remembered to pack some cards so you play a couple of rounds on the table. 

When it’s time to head back, you’re packing your things, both of you standing by the bike.

“So, how’d you like it?” he asks.

“It’s beautiful,” you reply, letting your eyes roam over the landscape once more. You arrived here in the early afternoon, and now the sun is just about to set. 

“Anything else you’d like to do before we head back?” 

You think it over. You already ate, took some pictures, enjoyed the view. There’s really not much else to do here. But then a thought occurs to you.

“I, uhm…” For some reason you get shy with your request. “Is there any way we can sit on the bike facing each other? Not to drive, just to chill here a little longer. I’d like to see the full sunset.”

His brows rise in surprise, the slight blush on his cheeks not escaping you, and you wonder what it was about what you’re asking that caused it. 

“Sure. Here–”

He grabs you from underneath your arms, picking you up as you wrap your legs around his waist. He holds you like you weigh nothing, and swings one of his legs over the bike to take a seat like he normally would, placing you onto the tank. You unwrap your legs so that they’re hanging over his things, and that’s when you realise you just asked for you to straddle him. Not that you’re opposed to the result. 

You try finding your seat on the round tank, but you slip down further into his lap, now fully sitting on him. 

“Whoah, sorry,” you try to scoot back up but you’re essentially stuck. “Is this okay? Should I move back?”

“Don’t worry,” he says, looking to the side for a moment as he holds you by your waist, trying to hold you still, and he clears his throat nervously. “This is every biker’s dream, believe me. Are you comfortable?”

You hum in positive response, trying to accommodate to the position in his lap by squirming a little, and his grip on you tightens again. You hear him take a sharp breath though his teeth. 

“Ah, sorry…” you say as you realise what you’re doing. You place your hands on his chest, trying to hold still. For a moment you just sit there, looking at each other in silence, both of you starting to relax into each others’ holds. 

Then a gust of wind picks up, ruffling up his hair. Golden hour hits him just right, the fiery red strands on his head shine gold and copper in the sunlight, his hundreds of freckles seem to glisten on his skin, begging for you to trace over them with your fingers, his ocean eyes now have a hint of green and specks of gold in them, darting up and down as he studies your face as well. Your heart all but bursts at the sight.

“What?” he asks after a while, chuckling. 

“You're breathtaking,” you blurt out in full honesty, holding his face, wondering how it was possible for such a beautiful human being to exist? And he chose to be with you?

Your answer definitely takes him off-guard, as his face blushes violently, from his neck to the tip of his ears. He can’t hold your gaze, looking to the side. It takes a couple of attempts to form a proper sentence.

“You can’t say that with such a straight face, damn,” he laughs nervously. He leans his forehead on your shoulder in an attempt to hide his burning cheeks, but you cup his face and bring him back up to look at you.

“Besides,” he adds after a moment, “You only say that because you haven’t seen yourself. If you think that of me, then you’re nothing short of ethereal.”

So much for watching the sunset. You can’t take your eyes off of him, and his words pierce your very heart, but in a good way. Not really knowing what to reply to that, you kiss him instead, burying your fingers in his hair. 

Cal reciprocates just as intensely, and you can’t help but arch your back into him, thus rolling your hips into his, to which he groans. Your brain is instantly turned to mush, your body now in charge. He tilts his head to the side, his tongue tracing over your lips, and you gasp as you grant him access. Right now, Cal tastes like honey and cool mornings and the pine trees surrounding you. Your senses are on overload, your skin burns as Cal’s hands slip underneath your shirt, slowly travelling up your back, pressing you into him even more.

Finally breaking for air, Cal kisses your jaw, your neck, biting where your pulse is, and if you could still hear yourself, you’d probably be embarrassed about the noises you’re making. 

Then he pulls back rather suddenly, you notice his jaw is tense but you notice his dishevelled hair more, as well as his puffy lips, and the dazed look in his eyes which you’re surely sporting yourself too. You’re both panting, trying to calm your breathing. His hands slide back down and out of your shirt, staying on your thighs instead. 

“Maybe,” Cal says between breaths, “Maybe we should take this somewhere… else.” 

You run your hand through his hair in an attempt to smooth it out. 

“I think Ahsoka is out for the rest of the night,” you say, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. 

He raises a brow at you. You give him an innocent smile. 

“Let’s head back then,” he says, picking you up again like before, this time to get you off the bike. 

You finish packing up everything, hop on and start your way back to the dorms. All the while, his hand is either on yours or on your leg, lovingly stroking the side of your thigh. 

His biker gear really does suit him and you like how he looks in it, but for once, you can’t wait for him to take it off.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] @dybynyght, @galaxtic-writings, @kalea-bane , @soka-writes-things, @padawancat97, @riddikulus-obsessions, @optimisticprime3, @starilicious, @ivelostmyabilitytoeven, @alternatescififandomelover, @lovelyygirl8, @cathyket, @wildefire, @ghostkestis, @reckoning-star, @wyvernthekriger

[adarkandmagicalforest]

An Irritation p. 2

pairing: Otto Hightower/Targaryen Reader (twin to Daemon)

tags: explicit sexual content, hate fucking, mentions of incest, otto hightower talking about sin

Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight, Part Nine, Epilogue

She had not thought to do it again.

But then, Daemon had been expelled from his short term as Master of Laws and had been in an especially instigative mood since then. He'd dragged her from her bath, complaining all the while, demanding they fly together.

When she refused, as it was Winter and a storm was pouring rain over Kings Landing outside, he prodded her, viciously trying to get her to rise up to his fire. But Daemon was poor company when in such a mood, so his pushing only served to make her furious. She'd bit out some response and dressed in a mere robe before leaving through one of Maegor's tunnels, her brother glaring after her as she left.

She ended up at the Tower of the Hand soon enough.

But to her utter disappointment, Otto Hightower was nowhere to be found in his chambers.

But never one to suffer disappointment for long, the Princess began to help herself. He had not been here to stop her after all, and what did it matter if she wished to ruffle around in his things? He was their servant after all, it should have pleased him that his possessions could entertain her for a time, she mused as she explored the chest of drawers against the wall, the nightstand that held a pair of gloves and the desk with his papers. She even exchanged her robe for a pair of his trousers, loose and far too long for her much shorter legs, but an interesting sight nonetheless. She wished she could have found his pin, but the blasted man seemed to never take it off.

She had begun humming when she went through the rest of his clothes, the stale mass of dark grey, black and emerald green uninspiring until she found a pair of thick, woven ties inside. 

They were clearly meant for holding, perhaps to fasten against his belt or some other mundane purpose, but she as a dragonrider thought them to be rather similar to reins .

And so the Princess took them, laying herself back on the Hand's neat belt, hoping dearly she would not need to wait long. 

She counted near a half hour before her ears caught the sound of doors opening beyond the bedroom. 

Pleased, her pale hand rose up and pushed her half-dry, ivory curls up in an artful array and arranged herself into a more comfortable position on her stomach, though the mix of his trousers, her long hair and the dark green ties that were idly wrapped around her wrists like bracelets was an odd one, but she liked the way it felt.

Minutes were all it took then for the door to creak open - it halted of course, halfway upon opening. The Princess ignored it, instead twirling the fabric about as her heart thudded in her chest, curious to see if Otto would play.

More heartbeats followed, but words were not uttered. 

She could only hear his footsteps, stepping over the floor and to the rug beneath his large bed. 

"I did not think I would receive a visit from you, Princess. I did not receive a missive nor warning of it." Otto finally said, not as negative as he could have been. For the past week, the Lord Hand had been thoroughly avoiding her, which was an interesting development, especially with Daemon's horrible attitude of late. Normally the old man would've started lashing criticisms of her and Daemon both, no matter which twin had earned his ire, always lumping the two together. But even with her brother wrecking havoc, she hadn't heard Viserys grousing once about hearing of her from his Hand.

So the dragon turned onto her back, her pale hair covering her breasts but hardly as a fine act of modesty, what with the curve of her small breasts and her soft pink nipples being well on display. 

The movement caused the Hand's breath to hitch, just slightly, which made her lips turn up into a pleased grin. That would surely bother Otto, who's immediate twitch of his brow told her that his action had been an accidental one. "I thought you were a servant of my House, Otto - I did not think a servant required prior warning before I had need of him." She replied, lifting herself up onto her arms, peering up at him expectantly.

"Of course. Yet it would only be polite. Then, I should have expected that to be something that was beyond your worries, Princess." He said then, drifting closer now and placing his hands on the sturdy wooden footboard of his bed. He always kept such neat hands, she noticed blithely. Clean hands with clean fingers and clean fingernails. Only days ago, those fingers had been rubbing at her cunt til she came. Daemon would have taken this man apart piece by piece, slowly feeding each limb to Caraxes if he ever found out. 

"Mmm. The worries of a Princess are more important than such things." She agreed. She squirmed slightly then, rubbing her thighs together. The texture of the trousers that she was wearing was rubbing against her, heat looming within her at the motion.

This action caught the Hand's attention instantly. "It seems though, you've been here for sometime." He said darkly, finally approaching her properly, now looking down at her as if he could frighten her. 

"I have." 

Finally, Otto reached for her, looking rather frustrated but also aroused in her opinion, especially as his hand smoothed over her pale stomach. His fingers pushed her loose hair out of the way of his path as his touch traversed her torso, moving carefully along her delicate ribcage and then up the curve of her pale breast, the warmth of his hand pleasant, especially as his thumb moved over her nipple. The Princess moved slightly, pressing herself up against this touch, encouraging him to stroke and pet her. Cannibal liked the same. 

"You've been going through my possessions." He stated, disgruntled and yet still touching her. He was still roaming over her flesh, but now his hand was touching the trousers she'd stolen, perhaps noting after ducking them down an inch, that she wore nothing beneath them.

"I was bored." 

This, he didn't like, because then his fingers began digging into her, his nails raking over her until she gasped and red marks raised up through her soft skin. She was soaking through his trousers, she knew, and was tempted to grab at his wrist and escort it down between her legs - but she was fascinated where he was going with this. How odd it was to think him an interesting lover. 

"To think, a woman of your privileges, to be blessed by the Gods to rule - and yet to be damned by such sin." Otto finally said, an edge to him that made her ache. So this is how he wanted to play? Very well, she thought, ecstatic. 

"Oh yes, I forgot how pious you are, Otto. It must have slipped my mind the last time you were wetting your cock with my whorish little cunt." The Princess almost purred back.

That flash of pissed off and starving came over his face, and then he climbed over her in the bed. His hand gruffly moved underneath her hair, grasping at her nape with force as he kissed her. She kissed him back hungrily, her hands reaching for him and yanking at his clothes, fantasizing for a moment about putting on his doublet with the gilded hand of the King pin, perhaps with him putting his mouth to good use at her cunt while she wore it. 

But Otto had another thought, it seemed. 

Because her hands, having been making work of the ties on his doublet, were suddenly seized with an iron grip and roughly pinned above her head. And those ties, which she had been wearing as bracelets, were now her reins - as they were now being tied against the headboard with such swift action that by the time she thought to struggle and wriggle and fight, it was already done. 

She shouted her frustration, wriggling against the ties, but to no avail.

"So much fire and yet two little straps can keep you bound so tightly..." The Hand said, looking down at how she struggled. 

If it wasn't for the fact that he was still touching her, his fingers rubbing over her sides and then up to her breasts, massaging at them near worshipfully, she might have made a stronger effort of it. She could escape, if she so wished.

Otto lowered his head then, kissing at her rib cage slowly. "If you were not born a Targaryen, a girl with your appetites would have been punished by the Seven already." He said, his wiry beard tickling her as he mouthed along her sternum and then up the curve of her breast. His mouth was warm, but the tantalizing thought that he was visiting her body as he might a Sept while also murmuring of punishment could dazzle her mind. "A girl with such a mind - " The Hand continued, kissing one pink nipple while his hand plucked at the other. " - one no better than a slut... If you were named anything else, even just a bastard perhaps, you would have been stripped down and paraded through the streets to atone for the whorish desires within you."

Hot arousal bloomed in her, needy and aching at his words. House Hightower had always been tied to the Faith, but she'd never believed religion to be anything more than lies told to shame children to behave. Now, devilishly, she wondered if she should have learned more of it - if just so she could combat old Otto more properly. 

"And what does that make you, Otto? Touching your slut Princess like this, as I'm sure your dirty old Septons fantasize about too. Some faithful man you are... I wonder, what would your wife think if she could look upon you now, hm?" She mused back, glad to not be so breathless when his fingers began roughly unlacing her from her trousers. The laces rubbed against her flesh so quickly as he pulled them away, as he'd done so with such harshness that they left tiny rope burns on her stomach. The trousers were ripped away just as quickly, and her legs were pushed up, bending them against her chest.

The look on his face was dark and outraged, just as he usually looked whenever her or Daemon's lips ever quirked a smile or pushed the Hand to his limit.

This she was fine with, pleased to see some fire, but instead of receiving a cock, she got a rough hit. Otto's hand spanded over the softest part of her arse, just where her thigh met it, and even over her cunt. The smack stung unbelievably, and the sensation actually made her yelp in pain.

But that didn't stop the Hand's hand, who smacked her again. And again. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. 

Seven times, she realized once her arse was burning hot and stinging painfully. He'd hit her once for each of his stupid gods. Her core was weeping, the contact from his smacks not enough to satisfy, just to torture her. Perhaps he hadn't meant these to arouse her, but the evidence was surely hard to ignore.

"You really are no better than a common whore, aren't you, Princess? Look at you - " Otto opened her cunt lips with his thumb, a wet sound joining it. "Pink, pulsing and soaking wet after I've just struck you. I should bring you to the King and have him look upon you. You would bring shame to him, no matter white hair graces your head or dragon you straddle between your legs that make you believe you are outside of the will of the Gods."

"Oh is that what you desire, Lord Hand? If you wished for an early - well, earlier, death, I could introduce you to my Cannibal. It would be my pleasure." She assured, feeling indeed to her pleasure when the older man took his time stroking her.

The petting she liked, but when he did not add to her neddling, she immediately began to push at him, needing so badly to be ridden.

"Gūrogon aōha jēda sir, Otto? Tolī uēpa naejot qogralbar nyke rhinka?" Taking your time today, Otto? Too old now to fuck me roughly? She murmured coyly, knowing just how to annoy him with her tone and use of High Valyrian, which had never failed her before.

His thumb pressed punishingly upon her clit then, making her hiss and raise her legs up high as if that would make him relent.

"You will cease to speak your foreign language at once if you expect a response." Otto commanded, his voice strict and heady even as his free hand snatched at her leg, placing it high over his shoulder while he forced his fingers inside of her - they slipped inside of her easily, wetly, before beginning to thrust them within her, his speed not enough - she needed him angrier.

"Kostilus istia gūrēñagon ziry pār, ser." Perhaps you should learn it then, ser. She replied, mirth in her voice. And that was enough, she saw, with just a sharp twitch of the Hand's brow.

Her cunt received another sharp smack of his hand, the strike over her clit now, making her yelp. A second came over her wet lips. And then, with no warning, Otto took her by her hips and flipped her onto her belly. His body followed, straddling the back of her thighs as he forced his lips along her back, moving her pale hair out of the way so he might kiss along her neck, even grazing his teeth over her shoulders and then down her spine while his hands roamed her lithe body with a worshipping touch. He was so unlike Daemon or her other past lovers - the dragon princess never quite knew what he would do next, especially as she was under his mercy. What did a would-be jumped-cut second born son want to do with his Princess? He had yet to suckle at her as he did their influence, this she was disappointed she had yet to experience to it's heights. But then, Otto grasped at her rear, spreading her arse so he might run his knuckle along her cunt and even her arsehole. Every part of her came alive as he did, awareness and thrill raising her blood with excitement.

A knock came. 

To any other, this would have been the moment they stopped - almost getting caught the tipping of the glass that would have shattered the moment.

But not to a dragon.

She was Cannibal in a woman's form - and above all, she hungered. Wantonly, selfishly.

"If you do not fuck me right now, Otto Hightower, I will scream for all to hear." She threatened, turning her head to witness his face.

He did not disappoint. Fury crackled through the air, and he very nearly looked to scowl before reaching for the front of his breeches and taking out his cock. "What is it?" He called out coldly to whomever dared to interrupt.

The head of his manhood slipped inside of her, lingering for only a moment before being removed - and then roughly thrust back within her until he was fully sheathed in her, almost making her yelp if not for his hand slapping over her mouth to keep her quiet.

"The Small Council has been called, my Lord Hand, and are awaiting your arrival." A servant replied from behind the door.

Otto slammed his hips against her, his cockhead hitting that place within her cunt that she knew with enough attention would make her peak if he fucked her hard enough. She thrust backwards against him, needing more, but his fingers had dug into her soft hips tightly, forcing her still while he controlled the pace. 

"What topic has the meeting been called for?" He questioned gruffly. The Hand pulled out of her again, lingering with just the head rubbing through her folds, before thrusting within her again.

"I believe it is - Prince Daemon, my Lord." Pain came through her hips then - Otto's fingernails had dug so hard into her flesh that he'd surely drawn up her blood. "He has landed the Blood Wyrm over a tavern in Fleabottom - with the storm this eve, there was much damage to the area, including the death of a local tavern owner." 

There was no more teasing to be had now.

Her brother's Hand had finally begun doing as she wanted most - he'd roughly slammed his cock inside her, as deep as it could go, nearly taking her breath away at the force. 

"I - will be along - shortly." He growled, punctuating each word with a thrust, not even waiting to hear a response for the poor fellow who had given along the message before beginning to fuck her with true earnest.

If she had a mind to, she might've wondered if he would not worry of throwing his back out with this action - but there were no thoughts to be had, let alone a mind left to her as she lowered herself onto her elbows as Otto rammed himself inside her, fury ruling his body as well as his lust as he fucked her. There was a loud, wet noise echoing throughout the room, with their shared grunts and her muffled whimpers joining it. Over and over again, he drove into her body, until she felt him bruising her hips and his cock repeatedly hit upon her cervix. 

His hand suddenly removed itself from her mouth. It reached for her ties and undid them deftly before grasping at her throat. Her body was pulled up until she was pressed solidly against his chest, his cock still deep within her even as his lips brushed along her ear.

"Did you come here as a distraction then, Princess?" Otto inquired dangerously, the rumble of his voice making her shiver with delight. "So your brother might do as he wish through the city?"

She moaned softly, especially as his fingers wracked up her side, the pain whirling with the pleasure. She wanted to finish so badly, she could feel his cock throb within her - the talk of Daemon though had made him violent.

"Daemon does as he pleases whether or not if his twin sister knows or cares." The Princess replied restlessly. She rolled her hips back against him, but his grip was like iron.

"Does he?" He countered, accusation in his voice. 

She shoved herself against his back, enough to free herself. Otto was still in a fury over Daemon's recklessness, and once her feet hit the floor, her hair was captured - and then her lips. 

The kiss was fierce and mean, teeth clashing and his tongue demanding the submissiveness of hers, which he would never receive. She kissed him back hotly, gasping when he pulled her back onto the bed, her scalp stinging as he threw her onto her back.

When he finally did leave her, he did so with his cock still wet, and the dragon wondered idly if her brothers would be able to smell it on him. 

[cherrybomb107]

Guys I just saw something on Twitter that caused such a visceral reaction that I literally got up, went to the kitchen, got some aluminum foil, and folded it so it would somewhat resemble a hat. I’ve got a conspiracy theory. Reminder that the term was created by the government to discredit people, but yeah, using it felt apt.

So, we all know that I’m not a fan of Caitlyn. I liked her just fine, but her actions in season two, her obnoxious and aggressively anti black fan base, and the fact that the narrative never calls her out on her actions have caused me to dislike her now. To elaborate more on what makes her fan base so obnoxious, it’s the goal post moving, whataboutisms, intellectually dishonest hypotheticals, excuses, racism, the way they cheer for the establishment and play dumb when someone doesn’t like Caitlyn, and how they act like there’s something wrong with you if you’re not a fan of the cop dictator who gassed minorities and hit her partner. But it’s that last point that’s got me so riled up.

It is normal to make real world connections with the media you consume. It is normal to dislike characters who do bad things, no matter how “complex” or “nuanced” they are. However Cait stans, by and large, strongly disagree. To them, to hate or even be ambivalent towards Caitlyn means a great number of things. It means you are: lesohobic, hypocritical, have no media literacy, didn’t watch/pay attention to the show, you’re just a hater, you can’t handle complex female characters, you hate Caitlyn cause you’d be just like her, you don’t hate other characters who do bad things, you’re contributing to Caitlyn hate, etc etc ad infinitum. They won’t stop with the excuses. To me though, this reveals something. Arcane season two has introduced the idea of sympathy for the devil, and that’s the heart of the problem.

I’ve said it before, but I resent the concept of forgiveness. Or, to be precise, I resent the way forgiveness has been framed. As if you are obligated to forgive someone, otherwise you’re “bitter” or “holding a grudge”. This framing puts the onus of “moving on” onto the wronged party, and that doesn’t sit right with me. It’s the same problem with “sympathy for the devil”. It’s okay, but only to a point. Trying to see the humanity in someone who has harmed you and/or other people is good! Healthy, even! The problems start when it goes too far. When you’re no longer allowed to criticize this person, even mildly, without taking all their trauma and complexity into account. Yes I understand this person has gone through things no one should ever have to go through. But that does not give them the right to hurt me the way they did. I am not in the wrong for not feeling sorry for them. I shouldn’t be forced to center their feelings when I was the one who they decided to hurt.

This happens all the time irl. You can’t celebrate when some asshole politician or greedy CEO dies because “they had a family”. “They were human too!” “If you’re celebrating their death after they spent decades making the conscious decision to make hundreds of thousands, or even millions of people to suffer, then you’re just as bad as they are!” And so on and so forth. The excuses Cait stans use to defend her are very reminiscent of this. “Oh my God, it’s just a show, it’s not that deep!” “She never killed anyone!” “What about Jinx?!” “If you hate Caitlyn you have no media literacy!” They never stop. They will call your intelligence and your integrity as a fan, as a person, into question for disliking this character. They are trying to convince you of something that you know isn’t true. It is okay to dislike characters who do bad things. It is okay to dislike characters who have shitty fan bases. It always has been, and it always will be. Nothing can convince me otherwise.

Arcane, as brilliant as it is, perhaps did a bit too good of a job in humanizing its characters and giving them depth. Now folks are acting like any amount of nuance will make you any less of a villain. Silco is one of my favorite characters. He is chock full of nuance! He is also still ultimately a villain at the end of the day. But the way Arcane writes its characters allows and actively encourages the audience to believe in the idea of “sympathy for the devil”. The problem with that is, once you stop seeing the devil as who he really is, that’s when you end up in situations you have no business being in. Defending things you have no business defending. Excusing the inexcusable. And that’s not right.

TL;DR Arcane season two has successfully convinced people that “sympathy for the devil” is absolutely paramount to your understanding of the show and your value as a person. So much so that if you refuse to have sympathy for the utterly unsympathetic, you get labeled a “hater” and everything you say is discarded. Which pisses me off BAD🙄🙄🙄

[sxcret-garden]

4th Desire ღ Hush, My Dear [M]

ღ Aspects of Desire series ღ Ateez Jongho x fem!reader ღ words: ~5.8k ღ genre: established relationship, college AU, fluff, some humor, slice of life, a bit of angst, smut (dom!Jongho, sub!reader, semi-public (they have to keep quiet cause reader’s family is literally in the other room), quickie, clothed sex, fingering, unprotected sex, pain kink, biting (idol receiving), he’s lowkey mean… again askjfkljas, orgasm denial, praise) ღ warnings: reader has a difficult relationship with her family, mentions of her mother trying to convince her to wear a dress to an event even though reader doesn’t like wearing them, mentions of a bad experience Jongho had in his past relationship, (him running his fingers through reader’s hair)

Desc.: Dinner with your family goes about as you expected - you’re slightly uncomfortable because of their choices in conversation topics and very much bored. Luckily, your boyfriend tagged along and knows just how to make you feel better, and in the process he too seems to be able to finally let go of his worries.

Author's note: This has a bit of a different pacing than the chapters so far... fun fact! It's also the first chapter I wrote for this fic... no I don't write them in order, that would be way too simple kalsdjflksda

← prev chapter ღ next chapter →

“Necklace or no necklace?” you ask, raising your voice a little so your boyfriend would hear you in the other room. You hear footsteps, and not much later his figure appears in the doorframe to his room, where you’re looking yourself in the big mirror next to his wardrobe, trying to decide what to wear.

“Y/N…” he mutters your name, and as you shoot his reflection behind you a look, you immediately respond,

“I know…”

“It’s just your family,” he says it nevertheless and he walks over to you. Coming to a halt right behind you, his palms find your waist as he lets his gaze take in your figure through the mirror. “You don’t have to dress up for them.”

“I know,” you say once again, peeling yourself out of his hold in order to walk over to the far end of the closet, pulling out yet another different necklace. “This one?” you ask and Jongho gives you a huff, a sympathetic smile showing on his face.

“Did you hear what I said?” he questions, coming closer to put his hand above yours. “Wear what’s comfortable. Your parents won’t expect you to look like you’re going to some big event.”

“Well you’re the one talking…” You shoot his outfit a look - neat black pants paired with a knitted sweater in dark colors and a button-up shirt underneath it. You can tell he put at least some thought behind it.

“Hey,” his gums show as he smiles at you. “I’m trying to leave a good impression on your parents, okay? You’re their daughter, not the boyfriend who needs to make sure they like him,” he chuckles.

“They already love you. You could show up in pajamas and they’d be fine with it,” you retort.

“I wouldn’t take it that far.” You put the necklaces back to their assigned space in your boyfriend’s wardrobe, before closing its doors. You decide against wearing one after all.

“Actually… we still have time, so I want to ask you something,” you start, turning towards him. “Let’s sit down first?”

“Sure.” You notice by the way his stance changes ever so slightly that your partner can sense you have a more or less serious question. Really, you’re just curious about something that’s been on your mind for a while now. Making yourselves comfortable in the living room, you clear your throat and pose your question.

“You’re being very careful… ever since we started experimenting more while having sex,” you state. “And I appreciate that! It’s just making me wonder if there’s a reason to that, other than for general safety’s sake? Because I feel like you really don’t have to check in with me as many times as you do.” You were afraid he might not share your opinion on this, and feel criticized for something that seems perfectly reasonable to him. But to your relief he seems to know what you’re trying to say.

“Ah… you’re right,” Jongho responds, and then he thinks for a while. “There is a reason for that, actually,” he then says. You guess it might have something to do with his previous girlfriend, and it looks like you’re correct in that assumption. “I told you about how me and my ex tried going in that direction too, right?”

“Right.” The way he suddenly becomes very serious makes you tense up as well - it’s like a barely noticeable darkness reflecting in his gaze.

“So we didn’t want the same things… a lot of the time. There was this one specific thing - I’ll spare you the details here - that she kept wanting to try out but I always said no because it felt too risky for me.”

“Makes sense.”

“And one day we were out with friends, drinking.” You have a hunch what his story might lead up to, and you furrow your eyebrows as you listen on. “And we came home tipsy. Not totally drunk, we were still aware of what we were doing, but also not sober. And this time I gave in, thinking if it’s something that will give my partner pleasure, it will be fine.”

“It wasn’t fine…?” you guess, and a short and regretful laugh escapes him.

“No…”

“Oh,” you breathe.

“I hurt her that day. Not seriously, and not permanently. But it could’ve been avoided… and I think that’s why I’m being so extra careful with you. I swore to myself after that, that I wouldn’t do certain things if I’ve had something to drink or I’m too tired.” He glances up at you now, one finger swiping his hair covering his face to the side as his features soften, and he looks at you as if you were the most precious thing he’s ever laid eyes on. “But I guess I’m more afraid of hurting you than I thought I was.”

“So that’s why…” you respond. “I thought you were overdoing it a bit,” you admit. “But now I get why you’re so focused on making sure I’m okay at all times… thank you.” Grasping his hands in yours now, you look him right in the face. “I mean it. Thank you for keeping me safe.” He can only watch and blush when you bring your joint hands up, brushing a kiss onto his knuckles with your lips. “But now I’m wondering… can you enjoy it like that? I mean.. it must be stressful to always carry that fear with you.” There’s a complicated expression on his face now, and he hesitates for a second before he speaks.

“Yes and no,” he answers honestly. “I am enjoying it, please don’t misunderstand! But… yeah, I think you noticed that overall I’m not letting go as much as I might be able to without those fears. Except for last time…”

“When I called you-”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t let you say it out loud, and you wonder why. Does it really affect him that much?

“Then…” You give him a reassuring smile. “When you’re ready to let go of that fear, you can. I trust that you won’t hurt me. And I promise I will say something if you’ve overstepped a boundary or I feel unsure about something. Okay?”

“Okay,” he mouths. You get up to take a step towards him, closing the distance between the two of you, and you put your arms around him, bringing your hand up into his hair as he leans into your embrace. “Sorry for overcomplicating things and not telling you sooner,” he mutters, but you shake your head.

“No, it’s okay,” you reassure him, fingers combing through his locks. “You have a very good reason. Don’t feel pressured to go against your gut feeling, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you too for understanding.”

You remain like this for a while, and the longer you stay in this position, the harder it becomes to tear yourself away from the warmth of the hug. However, eventually you force yourself to step back anyway, because it is soon time to make your way to your parent’s place.

It’s half past 6 on this Saturday when the two of you arrive at your destination to have dinner with your parents and your grandparents. The invitation had come suddenly, and not completely unrelated to your cousin revealing that she and her long-time boyfriend would get married soon. Your mother had already warned you over the phone that she wanted to discuss some “details” with you, and that you and Jongho should come over for dinner on the weekend. You could only guess that those details would be mostly about trying to convince you what you should wear for the occasion according to her, and once you arrive at your childhood home, it doesn’t take long for that fear to come true. 

“Oh my, who do we have here?” your mother greets you and, mostly, your boyfriend, who she seems to like a lot. It’s really no secret that ever since you first introduced him to her, she too wishes her daughter would get married soon. Though you’re nowhere near ready for taking such a huge step, so whenever the topic arises, you do your best to quickly switch to a different one. However, today her concerns aren’t of your marital status, but of - as you had guessed - your planned outfit for your cousin’s wedding. 

Pulling you aside after making sure everyone else is seated at the dinner table, entertaining themselves with a conversation about who knows what, her demeanor immediately changes and she becomes serious.

“So, Y/N…” The moment she calls you by your name, you startle just a little bit. “I’ve been thinking.” Whenever she uses that line, you know something uncomfortable is about to go down.

“What is it?” you reply, acting as if you didn’t already know the answer.

“For your cousin’s wedding… you’re not gonna show up in that suit again, right?” Memories of the last occasion you decided to go with neat dark blue dress pants and a fitting blazer instead of the dress that multiple people apparently expected you to wear come back to you and you gulp. 

“I was going to,” you say, and your mother sighs. It’s a condescending sigh, one that’s supposed to tell you how naive and young you are and how you should trust your mother’s words, who surely knows better. 

“You should wear a dress at least for her wedding,” she says. “Don’t you think? I mean… every young woman there is going to wear one!”

“How do you know that?” you dare to talk back at her, but she raises her eyebrows at you in response. Evading your question, she continues,

“You’re so young and such a pretty girl! It would be a waste if you went in pants.” With a bitter taste in your mouth and a glance towards the living room where the conversation seems to be dying down a bit, you retort,

“Mom, can we talk about this another time? I think everyone’s waiting for us to join…” Not expecting your attempt at getting out of this uncomfortable conversation to work, you’re surprised when she gives in and you find her agreeing with you. 

“Okay, I’ll call you about it during the week. Don’t even think about not picking up!” she adds, lifting a finger as a silent warning, and then she lets you off the hook, walking into the living room where everyone else is gathered. Letting out a deep sigh, you too follow.

Eventually you reach the part of the evening where the conversations of your family members are starting to bore you. Just because you've moved past the uncomfortable questions (at least you know your mother won’t bother you about your outfit for the wedding in front of the others) doesn't mean you feel particularly up for engaging in their small talk and occasional political debate. If you're being completely honest, you just might've been fine if it was only the small talk.

Yet here you are, watching your parents and grandparents argue about economics and politicians, and from the way Jongho is reaching over to place his hand on your thigh and gives it a gentle squeeze as he tries not to frown too much at what's unfolding at the table, you can tell he notices your discomfort too. And it's not like you didn't warn him, it's not like he didn't assure you multiple times that it's fine, he doesn't mind, he wants to come to your family dinner anyway. But now you can't help but feel apologetic to him. 

As if he knew what's going through your head when you shoot him a look, your eyebrows furrowed, he shakes his head and leans in to whisper in your ear,

"Are you okay?" Frankly, you're not okay per se. Used to this is what you are, and equating one with the other in your mind, you give him a weak nod.

"They'll stop... eventually," you whisper back, so the people in question wouldn't hear. And they really do stop a mere moment later. To your dismay, they pause their noise only to comment on you and your boyfriend instead.

"The two lovebirds... look at how they can't wait until they're alone." It's your grandma of all people who makes the comment, a knowing grin sitting on her face and you feel uncomfortable. You know it's just how people act when they see a young couple - they tease. But that doesn't mean you particularly appreciate what's probably just an expression of them being happy for you.

"Mom!" your mother exclaims and everyone laughs. You glance over at Jongho, and you see him smiling along to their bickering. It's a polite smile, nothing more, because he knows how much you hate receiving this kind of attention.

"Well it's true, isn't it?" your grandma defends herself, the creases around her eyes deepening with mischief. "We were like this too when we were their age." Now she shoots your grandpa a look, one filled with warmth as he gives her a somewhat awkward laugh because of her straightforwardness, and then puts his arm around her frame to pull her in close for a moment. You can't help but wonder if you too will still be as in love with your partner once you've reached their age, and your gaze naturally wanders over to your boyfriend sitting next to you. The familiar sight of his smile, the way he lowers his head ever so slightly because after all he's still a little shy around your family, and the way he sits up straight the exact moment your father asks him a question to start a conversation all fill your chest with warmth. Without thinking, he lets his palm glide up and down your thigh once as he answers, and just as you're about to put your hand above his, he deprives you of his touch, gesturing along with the way he talks instead. You listen to them chat as the rest of the family returns to political debates, and in your father's face you can unmistakably see that, just like your mother, he's taking a liking to your boyfriend, and it fills you with relief. And yet you soon find your mind drifting off again, wondering what would happen if your boyfriend put his hand back on your thigh, letting it wander just a bit higher. Wondering how far he could technically go without anyone else at the table noticing - though you know he’d never cross the line in front of other people. And so instead you fantasize about how he would continue unknowingly riling you up, or maybe he’d be aware of it, he is Jongho after all. He’d tease you and keep an eye on you all while making sure to keep the conversation going naturally, so that not a single soul would even guess that you’re craving for him to touch you, and he’s craving for you to beg for it. And then, after dinner is finally over, he’d pull you to another room, and-

Jongho’s hand actually returning to your thigh pulls you out of your thoughts, and as he glances over to you, noticing how your mind is drifting off further and further from the conversation at the dinner table, he moves his palms a little more towards the inside of your leg. You almost startle at the sensation, and at what it inevitably stirs up inside of you, and so you turn to look at him. As soon as you do, you find him already staring back at you, the expression on his face having changed almost unnoticeably. He leans in to mutter something in your ear again, and with it, his fingertips move towards your middle just a bit, sparking desire deep inside you once again.

"Shall we get out of here for a minute?" Thankful for his suggestion, you nod, and with the excuse of you having a headache along with assuring everyone that you'll be fine, you just need some quiet, so as to prevent anyone from following you two, he leads you out of the living room and towards the bathroom at the other end of the corridor. As soon as you close the door behind you, locking up as well, he pulls you towards him by the hand he's already holding.

"You okay?" he asks, his eyes wandering to your lips instinctively, and with his free hand he captures your chin.

"Whatever..." you breathe.

"Don't say that," your boyfriend retorts, tilting his head to the side a little, now looking you in the eyes instead. "I can tell you kept zoning out in the middle of their conversations."

"Can you blame me?" You give him a huff and a weak smile as you look away and he lets go of your chin to comb his fingers through your hair instead.

"No, to be honest." Now he as well shows you an apologetic smile. "What were you thinking about when trying to drown out the sound of their arguing?" 

"Just... nothing much," you answer, suddenly worried about whether he saw right through you or if his question didn't have so much meaning behind it after all.

"You sure? I noticed that you were upset when I took my hand away earlier... you sure it was nothing much?" You gulp at his tone, the way his voice alone reveals that he very much has a pretty good guess about what you've been fantasizing about for most of the evening. And at the same time he's now taking a step towards you, forcing you to back away and eventually your behind hits the edge of the sink, with your boyfriend now towering above you.

"I..." you try to say something, but it seems your body language already tells him everything he needs to know, because now he's placing one hand on the small of your back as he leans in, his lips hovering just beside your ear.

"Cause I've been thinking about dragging you off to somewhere else and putting you in a better mood for a whole while now." You swallow thickly, and when he takes a proper look at your face to see your reaction to his words, all you can do is part your lips and whisper a confession.

"Me too." He retrieves his hand from behind you, his palm wandering to your sides and then to your front, dragging it up across your chest and letting his fingertips graze your throat on its journey to finally cupping your face. Your eyelids flutter shut almost instantly as his thumb brushes across your bottom lip, and then he leans in, coming to a halt a mere inch apart from you.

"Want me to entertain you for a bit?" His enticing offer leaves you unable to do anything but nod, and when you take a glance at his face you don't miss the look he’s giving you, knowing he already has you under his spell. However, Jongho doesn't leave you much time to think about it as he kisses you slowly, a pace meant solely to make you crave for more. You throw your arms around his shoulders as you let him part your lips to deepen the kiss, and still it ends too soon. The pleading expression in your eyes only makes him chuckle, but for now he gives you what you undeniably want and he kisses you again. 

His hands wander towards your hips eventually, and after pulling down your pants and underwear just enough for comfortable access, one of his hands keeps you in place while the other finds your core. A mere finger, dragged up and down your folds painfully slowly, is enough to have you moan into his kiss, and next thing you know he pulls back and ceases all motions. Shaking his head at you, he mutters,

"They might hear us."

"R-right..." you whisper an answer, already having forgotten all about your family still chatting merrily not too far away from you. 

"Let's be careful," Jongho says, shushing you while momentarily removing his hand from your side. Not letting you wait, he continues his teasing motions, and you bite your bottom lip as you try not to make a sound under his touch and his more than curious gaze scanning even the tiniest of your reactions. "What?" he whispers, a somewhat mocking tone in his voice. "Didn't think you'd already be that wet just from thinking about me all evening." And before you can even come up with anything to say in your defense, he dips a finger inside you quite effortlessly, and your hips instinctively buck into his hand. The act makes him smirk, and he pushes you back into the edge of the sink to keep you from moving around. Clicking his tongue at you as quietly as he possibly can while the amusement in his gaze is apparent, he says,

"So impatient." Furrowing your brows, you shoot him a pleading expression that causes his features to soften, and he adds another finger. "That what you want?" Nodding, you can see his eyes growing darker, and you squeeze yours tightly shut as he watches on, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you. "Feels so good, hm?" he keeps talking, his voice low and quiet, and you dig your fingertips into the fabric of his shirt where it covers his shoulders.

"Y-yeah..." you answer, doing everything in your might to keep your volume at a whisper.

"Shh," he, however, shushes you. "Don't talk. You don't wanna risk getting caught, do you?" And so you do as he says, merely shaking your head vigorously, and earning yourself a kiss brushed against your lips.

"Good girl." And then he picks up the pace just a bit, thumb now pressed against your clit, and the way he curls his fingers against that perfect spot deep inside you makes your head spin.

"Fuck," you mouth, and you earn a sharp look from your boyfriend, but he keeps going nonetheless. You can feel your knees getting weak as you melt under his touch, heatwaves rushing through your body with every time he pulls out and pushes back inside. And then, just as your high starts building up in your stomach and you throw your head back, he pulls out just as slowly as he started. For a second you stare at him blankly, but when he takes a step back, you immediately find yourself protesting.

"Don't do this... not now, please..." You can tell exactly how satisfied he is with himself for riling you up like that and then withdrawing just as you were about to find your sweet release by the cocky grin he's giving you, head leaned back ever so slightly so he could triumphantly look down at you even better.

"Why?" he asks. "It's far too risky to let you lose control. Remember?" He leans in closer now, his fingers that have just been inside your pussy merely a few seconds ago now brushing against your lips just before he leans in, the tip of his tongue licking your juices off your mouth. "They might hear us." Unable to say a word, all you can do is reach out for him, cling to him as he tries to walk backwards.

"No, please... baby... need you so bad..." You press your thighs together tightly as you speak those words, his gaze immediately dropping down to your legs as he registers the movement, and as his pupils darken, he slowly lets his eyes wander back up to your face.

"Then what do you want?" 

"Just fuck me please... do whatever you want but please fuck me..." 

"Love..." he calls out to you rather softly now, quite in contrast to the firm grip on your ass that he pulls you towards him with. You suck in a breath as you can unmistakably feel his bulge against your lower stomach, but Jongho doesn't waver. "I don't think you can keep quiet if I do whatever I want with you."

"I can... please..." you push him, and he seems to ponder on your plea for a moment. Just when he lets go of you, you think this is it, you're not getting what you want tonight, but then you see him unzip his own pants, and before you can think any further, he orders, 

"Turn around." You don't hesitate. All you do is do as he says, facing yourself in the mirror as you bend over the sink as far as the insufficient space between its edge and the glass surface in front of you lets you. You can see his eyes being glued to you from behind, one hand moving to your back and pulling your shirt up as your boyfriend moves it towards your shoulders, while he's giving himself a few strokes with the other. His palm wanders back down, fingertips tracing your spine, and you arch your back for him as he follows your shape, eventually letting his hand rest on your ass.

"That's right," he mutters, rubbing circles onto your skin before squeezing the flesh. For a second there you prepare yourself for impact, but he's already steadying your hips, aligning himself with your cunt. Even just his tip parting your folds makes you shudder, and so he leans forward, until he can comfortably place his hand over your mouth.

"Is it okay if I do that?" he asks, whispering, and you nod your head in desperation. At this point you think you'd comply with almost anything if only he finally filled you up, and at the same time you feel warmth spreading in your chest as he checks in on you and makes sure you're comfortable. And then he pushes up into you, forcing you to bite down a moan that would've almost escaped, and you find yourself agreeing with his earlier words. There really is no way in hell you could keep quiet when he has his way with you. And yet you manage to keep it down as he settles inside you with his full size.

"One sound and I won't let you cum, got that?" he warns, and you can barely nod as he begins rolling his hips into you. Though he starts slow, he too seems close to losing his composure as he picks up speed, using you to chase his own high as well. And even though the pleasure keeps gradually building up deep inside of you, you can keep it together so far. However, when his other hand lets go of your hips so he could rub circles against your clit instead, you know he's about to drive you insane. And so, as a moan threatens to escape your throat, you do the only other thing you can think of as an alternative - you sink your teeth into the palm of his hand. With him bringing you closer to the edge with every repetition of his movements, you don't pay attention to the impact of your actions, but when you bite down harder you can suddenly hear your boyfriend hissing a curse above you.

"Fuck..." Finding the reflection of his face in the mirror and the way his features distort in pleasure as he fucks you harder only causes you to apply even more force to how you’re biting down on his palm, and in turn he tightens his grip on your face. Squeezing your eyes shut as you're about to roll them back from all the sensations coursing through your body, your orgasm comes crashing down on you, shaking you whole. Only a mere second later, a strained grunt escapes your boyfriend as he cums inside you, halting at once to allow for you both to come down from your highs.

He pulls out carefully as you release his hand, and grabbing a few paper towels, he begins cleaning you up. With one arm around your waist he helps you stand, the other wiping clean the insides of your thighs, making you shake whenever he grazes your still sensitive core. 

"You okay?" he asks finally, placing a kiss just below your ear as he holds you close, letting you rest with your back against his chest.

"Yeah..." you whisper, before remembering his hand. "What about you?" You turn around, reaching for his wrist to take a closer look at his palm, only to find very apparent bite marks there. You can't help but snort at the situation, remarking, "Well, I guess it's not the noise we need to worry about now." 

"Ah... right..." Taking a look at the mark himself, an embarrassed smile now graces his face, gums showing as his ears take on a soft shade of pink. You take a hold of his hand again, bringing it up to your mouth now.

"It's okay," you say, blowing some cool air onto it, before placing gentle kisses all over the mark. "I'll make it better."

You return to the table significantly later than what would’ve been a timespan where you could be sure nobody would get suspicious, but thankfully the only question you receive is whether your “headache” is better now or not as everyone’s busy cleaning up the table. Your boyfriend immediately takes a heavy looking stack of dirty plates from your mother’s hands and carries them to the kitchen instead, and once again it makes you happy to see what a good impression your parents have of him. 

“You really picked a good guy, Y/N,” your mother tells you as she moves over closer to you, and you agree silently as you glance over to where his back is disappearing in the kitchen. Caught up in your feelings, you startle as she claps her hands together next to you, the loud sound immediately makes you look at her. “You get to work too! You’re gonna have to be a good wife to him!”

“Mom!” you call out, finding several things that bother you about that sentence, but in the end only addressing one. “We haven’t even been dating for that long!”

“Oh,” she throws one hand over her mouth, before smiling with a hint of mischief in her eyes, just like your grandma had done earlier. “Sorry, I got ahead of myself. But can you blame me?” Now putting her hand on your shoulder, she points in the direction of the kitchen, and following her movement with your eyes, your gaze soon comes to rest on your boyfriend, who gives you a smile upon noticing.

“Jongho,” you call out to him to make him come over to you. “Can you tell my mom to stop simping over you?”

“What?” they ask, in unison, but very much for different reasons, as your boyfriend can’t help but smile in amusement, whereas your mother adds, “What’s simping…?” And before you can explain, your boyfriend chimes in,

“It’s a good thing, I promise.” 

“Ah, well,... either way, someone’s gonna have to get dessert ready, and I assume it’s not your father,” your mother switches topic, shooting you a look. And then, glancing at Jongho and then back to you, she adds, “But that won’t be a problem you’re gonna have, right?” Walking away with that, she leaves you to protest in vain and to internally die of embarrassment, and when you see your boyfriend merely laughing at the situation, you’re not sure if that makes it better or worse. 

“God, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have brought you here…” you mutter, but he shakes his head, one arm snaking around your body loosely.

“Don’t worry, I’m okay,” he tries to reassure you, and yet your mood won’t change.

“But I’m not… I hate it when they are like this. They act like we’re already married…”

“Hey…” He pulls you aside, fingertips dancing down your arms until he takes a hold of your hands. “They like me. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess…” you say, averting your gaze because you really don’t want to keep discussing this, but at the same time you can’t shake the feeling that they’re taking this too far too quickly. And instead of dwelling on the topic, your boyfriend now finds reason to complain about something entirely different.

“You guess?” he asks, his tone making it sound like he’s upset, but the playful spark in his gaze as he raises his eyebrows at you tells you he’s just fooling around. 

“I mean… no, it’s a good thing,” you correct yourself, shooting him a thankful smile for attempting to cheer you up and then letting him pull you into a quick hug, before your mother starts calling everyone to the dinner table again in order to have dessert. It’s self-made chocolate cake, sweet just as you like it, and even though you know it couldn’t possibly match your boyfriend’s tastes, he still finishes his entire plate.

“This is why they like you so much,” you mutter eventually, when people start moving again to get ready for bed. “You’re risking a tummy ache just to make them happy.” He can’t say anything to that, having been caught red-handed by you, who wouldn’t not know his ulterior motive behind forcing himself through sugary hell. So instead, you get up, touching his shoulder lightly as you do. “Let’s get ready for bed too?”

You help your mother put the remaining plates and cutlery into the dishwasher before brushing your teeth and eventually moving to your old room with your boyfriend. Making yourselves comfortable under your blanket which is that much fluffier than the one you’re using at his place, you immediately feel sleep tugging at your bones and you let out a content sigh.

“Say…” you mumble, facing him as you’re both rolled over onto your sides. “You didn’t seem so anxious about possibly hurting me today.”

“Oh, you’re right,” he whispers a response, sounding as if he hadn’t really noticed that fact himself.

“Is it because we didn’t have much time?” you ask, grinning at the thought of your dirty little secret that you’re keeping from everyone else in the house. Jongho thinks for a short while, but then he shakes his head along with an “mh-mh” coming from his side.

“Because I trust you.” Your smile widens at his words. “I think the trust that you’ll say no if you want me to stop is finally bigger than the fear of accidentally hurting you…”

“That’s good,” you respond, reaching out to place your palm onto his cheek, squishing it lightly between your fingers and contrary to the expected reaction, Jongho merely raises his eyebrows at you slowly, as if he couldn’t properly process what you just did. Letting go of him, you move your hand towards the back of his head instead and your partner shows you a delayed shy smile. “I’m really glad for that,” you whisper, before you roll onto your back and he reaches out for your hand in order to place a goodnight kiss onto the back of it.

“Me too.”

[dungeonmeshi-confessions]

I often take issue with a lot of the way this fandom mischaracterizes Falin. I know a lot is having fun and for the bit but it feels so wrong to not see this discussed as much! Obv there are pressing matters when discussing mischaracterization of characters like Kabru or Toshiro but I feel like there could be more room for people talking about Falin’s as well. I feel like Falin is often reduced to being part of farcille (I don’t even dislike farcille, far from it, it’s just I feel it’s sort of a labru effect, where a character is sort of mushed to be a specific thing for a ship, and a lot of content contains those specific mischaracterizations, making it harder to enjoy without a lot of curation) or being the one who became falingon, or being an ideal existence who exists to contrast and reflect the ugliness in others in the party and not in a way that humanizes her. I know people are having fun and that’s fine but also I think falin warriors need to rise, this is my promise as a falin warrior to make people do her better. Self proclaimed falin lovers who don’t love her as character but merely a concept will come to my house and see my beliefs for once.

I think Falin is a person who masks herself as normal so well, that people mistake her for someone who is generally kind instead of a strange go with the flow type person who doesn’t really care at all about social norms but also has reduced herself to having few desires to be more acceptable, she doesn’t care about most people except for those she’s close too, it’s a more selfish thing on her end in that sense but it’s not at all wrong. True she’s very empathetic but she doesn’t care for others as much as some would think, she dislikes violence but would hurt others for the people she cares for (those being laios and marcille, others like her but I don’t think that fondness is as required as others think of her with, and she’s ok with that she enjoys them as she finds them interesting and fun to spend time with, they just aren’t in that mental box). Falin literally left magic school and didn’t contact marcille for 4 years bc she didn’t want to do magic school and in her mind it’s fine and normal to just get up and leave, yet if she did this to anyone who isn’t marcille and maybe laios (see laios abandonment out of fear incident that deeply effected both peoples worldview) many may consider that action strange and terrible. Falin is someone strange, she keeps it on the down low and to a degree as she understands the social contract and thus works to make things easier for herself and those she cares for, being easygoing to avoid conflict and stepping in to keep peace is a genuine form of autonomy that allows her to keep people around but not have to decide always. Honestly she often gets a pass because she can easily fill that preconceived social conceptual role of a passive strange girl dragged around by her “weird” brother, with ppl failing to realize she’s taking an active part in the touden shenanigan of being 2 weird siblings.

The story largely tells of laios’s disconnection from others (due to his autism experience, I’m not taking criticism on this) so it makes sense people want to discuss it, much like how other party members have a disconnect from people that’s literally how the entire party was formed (and how many non party members are defined). But as a contrast Falin is a character who’s disconnect is so great she doesn’t even care about it, she plays into concepts of the inhuman long before she is a dragon, laios may want to be a monster to escape that rejection but Falin wouldn’t see a point in becoming one, as by who she is and how she is treated she already is one. Falin is the concept of the “changeling” (a myth created because people couldn’t accept their autistic children), the possessed, the pixie dream, the witch. But that doesn’t matter to her because Laios cares for her even when the village hated her, that marcille became her first friend who connected with her after that. Because of that it’s fine that others don’t like or understand her. Even if Falin is physically human there’s a deep disconnect from her autism. Though those closest to her can’t see the real Falin that doesn’t matter to her, she’s unaffected by loneliness of that type. Her experience is so different from others that even when re-angles by the Falingon people don’t realize their similarity.

Honestly the falingon isn’t even totally different from falin in a sense just more dragon like, with less inhibition, and has had all of the people she likes and dislikes swapped around. There’s multitudes to her, there is hate in her, there is love in her, there is falin in the dragon. Stripped from human context is falin, a person who already has always felt a fundamental disconnect from humanity. A girl who’s now getting on her feet and choosing to make her own choices for the first time. One who declined to marry toshiro because while living on that foreign land would be enriching and fun for her and she could play as a lover she feels it would be dishonest to his feelings. You can’t tie down a dragon.

Falin is her own person.

——————

If you think describing these traits is a form of villainizing her, WRONG!!!!

These are cool fun interesting traits.

.

[sgt-tombstone]

2 or 38 (or both at once!) for the kiss roulette writings! 💋

2. A kiss on the nose

38. A kiss while one party is carried

Here’s a bare-bones 5+1 idea: 5 times Johnny kissed Ghost on the nose and 1 time he couldn’t quite reach

1. The first time it happens, it’s supposed to be a joke. They’re in the mess hall, the entire 141 crowded around a table far too small for their hulking figures, and far too much money is being placed on a stupid bet. Ghost criticizes Soap’s sniper scores (“better work on your aim, sergeant”), Soap quickly defends (“Ah’ve impeccable aim, thank ye, LT”), and then pounds hit the table, which means that Soap has to prove himself. He stands up with a joking quip, leans down to press an exaggerated kiss to Ghost’s balaclava-clad nose, and marches off to the sniper range to defend his honor (he doesn’t notice Ghost’s blazing blush, nor does he beat any of Ghost’s personal records, so it’s a bust in nearly every regard)

2. The second time it happens, it’s full of uncertainty. Soap and Ghost are standing outside, just out of the light of the base flood lamps, their faces lit only by the glowing tip of their shared cigarette. Ghost is still in his hard-shell mask, droplets of blood staining the… plastic? resin? bone? Soap has never asked, and he’s not sure he wants to. The tension is thick, cloying and suffocating, and Soap takes a leap of faith. He plucks the burnt-down cigarette from between Ghost’s lips, brushes his lips against the tip of Ghost’s nose where it peeks out of the triangular cutout, and grinds the cigarette under the heel of his boot. It takes a moment for Ghost’s brain to reboot, and then Johnny finds himself pulled in for a real, proper kiss, both of them grinning so hard that they can barely manage it

3. The third time it happens, it’s full of worry. Their safe house is in the middle of the woods in the middle of nowhere in the middle of Russia and it’s fucking freezing. Ghost is bundled up as much as he can be, but he’d caught a bad chill the day before, and shivers wrack his body ceaselessly. Johnny builds the fire as best as he can, tending to it religiously, finding comfort in the knowledge that no one is actively hunting them. He strips his outer layers, those covered in snow and ice, and climbs into the cot with Ghost, wrapping them both in their emergency blanket, pressing as close as possible to fit. He wraps his arms around Ghost’s sleeping figure, trying to imbue as much warmth as he can, and he silently, softly, kisses Ghost’s chilled nose. Exfil is on its way, he knows, and they’ll both survive the night, but he’d rather them both be somewhere warm, or at least far more comfortable than this

4. The fourth time it happens, it’s a little bit sloppy. Ghost has his arm around Johnny, supporting some of his weight as they stumble out of the pub. Johnny had managed to drag the 141 out to grab a pint and watch the footie match between Scotland and… someone; none of them are really sober enough to remember who, only that Scotland had won by two goals and Soap had decided to celebrate with two more rounds of shots. Ghost has never been more aware of the gap between his short term and long term memory; he can actively feel each passing moment fall through the cracks, lost to time and drink and something akin to joy. Johnny’s still crowing about something, loud and proud and completely inintelligible, and then he surges up and presses a wet kiss to the tip of Ghost’s masked nose, grinning like a fool the whole time. When Ghost wakes up the next morning, his arms still curled around a fast-asleep Johnny, the only memory he has of the night before is the feeling of Johnny’s lips on his skin, and he’s completely okay with that

5. The fifth time it happens, it’s stark and sterile. The mission had gone badly, because they always did. The intel was fine, the target wasn’t unexpected, and there hadn’t been any outside interference, and yet… Ghost had taken a bullet to the arm, and then one to the gut, and blood had been everywhere, spilling too fast and too far, running in rivulets that Soap couldn’t stop. And now Ghost is unconscious. Wrapped in bandages, clad in a thin, stark white hospital gown, covered in a thin, stark white hospital blanket, and Johnny can’t help it. He doesn’t care that Gaz and Price are standing right there, heads bowed in a semi-private conversation of their own just two feet away. He perches on the edge of the hospital bed, Ghost’s limp hand clutched in between both of his own, and presses a gentle kiss to his nose before resting his forehead against Ghost’s. He’s not sure how long he stays like that, time measured only in the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, but then Ghost’s eyes are blinking open, the anesthetic wearing off slowly, and Soap can only smile a tear-filled, watery smile, steeped in relief

+1: The sixth time it happens, it’s a warm day. Johnny had joked that they were lucky; Scotland only has three days of summer per year, so the weather choosing to behave for their wedding day is nothing short of a blessing. It’s a simple affair, despite the entirety of the MacTavish clan showing up for the festivities, and before Johnny knows it, the vows have been said, the rings have been exchanged, and the symbolic kiss has been delivered upon waiting lips. And it’s over. He’s officially married to the love of his life, and he couldn’t be happier. He turns to the crowd, preparing to walk back down the aisle with his new husband in tow, but instead he feels his feet leave the ground as Simon sweeps him up and into his arms. He’s grinning like an idiot; they both are, but they don’f care how they look to everyone else. They only have eyes for each other. Johnny gazes adoringly up at his husband as Simon marches them down the aisle, headed back to the house to get refreshed before the reception. He lifts a hand, wrapping it around the back of Simon’s neck, and strains up to kiss him. But he can’t reach. Instead, his lips brush the divot of Simon’s bare chin, freshly smoothed and still smelling of aftershave, and Simon grins down at him.

“Better work on your aim, sergeant,” he quips, and Johnny can only laugh, giddy in the knowledge that he’s always had impeccable aim

———

prompt from this list!

[otakusheep15]

Flufftober Day 25 - Crafts

Content includes: Rollo x reader, established relationship, probably OOC Rollo, reader is bad at crafts, Rollo is good at drawing

“You certainly have a strange idea of fun, don’t you?”

Rollo looks down at the table, his expression a mix between confusion and mild annoyance. Meanwhile, you’ve fully immersed yourself in your activity, ignoring his obvious insult.

It’s rare you get to visit your boyfriend since you go to different schools, especially two that are so far apart. When you finally managed to free up your schedule enough to visit, you decided it would be fun to do something fun with him.

After a bit of back and forth trying to decide what to do, you eventually decided to do some crafts with him. Fleur City is known to have some amazing craftsmanship, so you wanted to try something out yourself.

Now you’re here, hanging out at NBC with Rollo, attempting to cut out some paper dolls. It’s not going very well, and they certainly don’t look the way you envisioned they would, but at least you’re having fun.

Rollo, meanwhile, hasn’t even touched any of the supplies you had laid out, continuing to stare in confusion. It’s kind of cute, but you would never tell him that.

“I still don’t understand what I’m supposed to be doing here.”

He sighs, moving his hand to pick up a pencil, but that’s all he does. You put down your own craft, looking at him.

You explain that he can do whatever. It’s just supposed to be something silly and fun, nothing serious. If he keeps overthinking it, he’s ruining the whole point of this activity.

“I know I’m overthinking it. I just… it’s been a long time since I’ve done something so… childish.”

That makes you smile, and you gently take his hand. You reassure him that it’s okay, and that he can do whatever he wants, even if that means just sitting here and watching you craft.

“No, no, I’ll do something. I just can’t think of anything.”

Despite his words, he goes to pick up a sheet of paper, using the pencil he’s still holding to begin doodling. You decide not to look, giving him at least a small bit of privacy to be creative.

In the meantime, you focus on your own craft, trying to salvage the paper dolls. It’s still not going very well, but you’re determined to make them look at least semi-decent.

The two of you sit in silence as you work, and it’s quite comfortable indeed. The only sounds come from your scissors and his pencil. It’s obvious to you that Rollo is finally getting into it, and that makes you happy.

After a while, you notice him put his pencil down, meaning he must be finished. You’ve given up on the paper dolls, which have been reduced to paper scraps littered about the table. You’ll have to practice more.

You look up at him, asking what it is he was drawing. He looks rather focused, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t curious.

“It’s nothing much. I doubt you’d like it.”

Well that only makes you want to see it more. You lean across the table, giving him the biggest puppy eyes you can as you ask him if you can see it.

“Fine, but I don’t want to hear about it. I’m aware that my skills are rather… lacking.”

He hands the paper over to you, and you sit back down properly as you look at the page. At first, you were expecting something silly or badly drawn, and you were more than ready to (lovingly) bully him.

Instead, you see the most gorgeous drawing you’ve ever seen. It’s a portrait of you trying to make your paper dolls, and it’s very detailed. Is this how he sees you? As someone who looks this beautiful? The thought makes you blush, and you gently hand him back the drawing.

“Well? No snarky remark this time?”

You mumble something about it being a good drawing, too embarrassed to properly look him in the eyes. It takes him a second to connect the dots, but it doesn’t take him long to connect the dots.

“Ah, I see. I take it you like my drawing a bit more than you’re letting on?”

It’s rare for him to tease you, but it’s always a critical hit when he does. Your face feels like it’s on fire, and you slump down onto the table to hide just how flustered you are, mumbling something he can’t quite hear.

He leans over and pats you on the head, and that makes you feel a bit better. You can hear him shifting, and when you look up, he’s standing over you, holding out the picture to you.

“Take it back to NRC. That way you’ll have something of mine to keep in your dorm.”

You take the drawing, smiling up at him. He can be so adorable when he wants to be. Before you stand up, you cast one more forlorn look at your attempt at paper dolls, and you bow to him that, the next time you see him in person, you’ll have mastered the art of paper doll making.

“I’m sure you will. I look forward to seeing them.”

[thefrogdalorian]

So I checked AO3 this morning after a couple of days and was greeted by this sight:

I got very excited, this is a huge number! Right now I have one ongoing longfic and a oneshot I posted a couple of days ago that I was very proud of, so I thought some more readers had found them.

Well, I was pretty dismayed to discover that SEVEN of these comments were from someone who proceeded to go through my 182k word longfic and told me all the things they didn't like about it and personally disagreed with.

They started off as maybe a little bit judgmental, but nothing too personal, before culminating in this lovely little comment:

(blocked out potentially triggering content that was properly tagged on AO3)

It seemed to me as though they were disappointed that my fic wasn't what they wanted to read. Which is fine, but that's not the author's problem. It's on you as a reader to curate your own internet experience.

It is so unbelievably rude to go into the comment section of a fic and write something like this. Guess what: I had a beta at the time! I do not need one now. I also don't want to know what you don't like about the fic, nor do I want to be compared to other writers. Fanfic is a hobby, I do this because I love it and I post it online FOR FREE. I do not want unsolicited criticism in any of my comment sections.

Anyway, I wrote this particular 182,000 word fic in 2 months and I'd like to see them try to do the same, perhaps then they could judge others. Do I think I could do a better job now? Yes. Am I still proud of it though? Hell yes! It's my baby and got me back into writing, it proved my own capabilities when it comes to writing.

I've had far more lovely comments than horrible ones and I won't let this one keep me down. But I won't lie and say that it didn't take me aback and wasn't kind of difficult to process. Please don't do this to fanfic authors, we are fans and hobbyists, not professional writers.

Finally, I thought I'd write this handy guide for people who think like this particular commenter:

What To Do If You Don't Like a Fanfic:

Stop reading the fic

Close the fic

Go on with your life

Hope this helps! :)