#i added the spaces in to make reading easier

[sparklecarehospital]

an overview of my progress on the new site over the past 5 months of building

i decided i would put together a big post compiling all of the things i have currently implemented to the new site since at the moment it's scattered amongst a million small update posts. i feel like this will be good reference for anyone who has ideas that aren't included yet

the comic reader

you can now change the placement of the comic pagination arrows to be above, below, or on both the top and bottom of the comic page.

you can search for individual page numbers via a search bar (and also search 'cover' 'back cover' etc)

you can bookmark pages and save your place at any time in any series, and the home landing page will give you a link to your saved page when you revisit the site so you dont have to go all the way to the read section just to access your place. saving your bookmark tells you what page you're saving (or clearing if you're removing it)

you can now select individual scenes in the volume that have non-spoiler names but proper associations to the content for returning readers to quickly find specific scenes

on desktop you can change the size of the page on your screen

on desktop you can hide the site header (this is not necessary on mobile)

there is a legend explaining what each button does

new comment service that does not have ads

transcripts now come from the sides of the screens and do not require scrolling down to read them, and they are correct and no longer inaccurate on certain pages

tooltips that explain what each navigation arrow button is for

content warnings

you can select individual categories of content you do or don't want to see via switches

you have the ability to disable warnings entirely if you wish, just turn all of them off

you can choose between verbal warnings (stuff in dialogue) or visual warnings (things seen on-screen)

you can suggest adding content warnings to specific pages if there are errors OR if there is something major i overlooked

there is a page that lists every content warning in a volume with contexts for each individual warning, whether it's verbal or visual, and links to the pages

there is a pre-moderated comment section that allows anyone to ask questions about content warnings (for example, asking if something will ever be in the comic or asking what category something specific would be listed under).

there is a list of things that do not get warnings and a list of things that will never be depicted in the comic

scenes that did not have content warnings before now have them to match the proper category system

archives

volume archives are now images instead of links, and they are displayed in a grid format which is mobile-responsive so it doesn't take absolutely forever to scroll through an entire volumes archive

volume summaries are more easily accessible

the new transcript archive which is a text-only version of the entire comic, including a clean version in case you need things in dialogue filtered out

mobile devices/tablets

the website is now properly mobile responsive and designed to function like a regular mobile website and is not unbearable to use anymore. it just feels and looks like any other mobile site!

comic pages now touch the edge of the screen and do not always require zooming in to read dialogue

transcripts are now more device-friendly and do not appear broken on small screen devices anymore

all comic reader features work on mobile (except the 2 desktop-only features)

content warnings do not take up too much space or overflow the comic page box

margins are improved to make basically everything more mobile friendly

you can still see page backgrounds faintly on mobile, but they have an overlay to make reading the comic page contents easier. this was not originally planned but i made it happen! yippie!

display

the site now has a built-in dark mode that works for every site theme, however, keep in mind that due to the nature of dark themes they are obviously not as colorful as the main site themes

there is now a saturation slider which changes the saturation of the site to whatever percentage you wish

saturation affects the background and does not ignore it

the screen does not flash as new elements load in, however, images specifically may take a moment to load depending on your internet speed. this is something i'm trying to fix but i can't guarantee it because it's not entirely in my control how websites load images depending on your internet speed

secrets!

cast page

cast page for each series is divided by individual character type (main patients, side patients, main staff, side staff, family, outsiders etc)

cast profiles are mobile responsive in an easy-to-use way and do not take forever to scroll through on mobile devices, instead they are collapsible and you only have one open at a time.

desktop has anchor links to specific profiles using my cute emoji edits :]

search bar on the main cast directory page that takes you to specific characters by entering their name (or variations of it)

profiles include allotpuns, genders, pronouns, nouns, sexuality, species, age, hatchday, height, and a list of all of their afflictions

there are popups that explain the meanings of certain phrases or words (like specific sexualities) and neopronoun usage explanations and examples

cast page profiles for all of the currently public cast members

biographies that contain character history (or at least the currently public history) and a detailed explanation of their personality that replaces the trait system for simplicity's sake

secrets!

comic itself

pages with errors have been corrected

pages with improper characterization/retconned information have been updated and replaced with new dialogue

character card intros now contain pronouns and retconned pronouns have been corrected

uni is no longer referred to with exclusively he/him anywhere except in the comic itself to avoid confusing new readers/people who do not look at other areas of the site

scenes that did not previously have site themes now have them, for fun!

secrets!

FAQ

the FAQ is no longer a million miles long despite containing all of the questions it originally had. it is now collapsible sections that make accessing certain question types easier

pre-moderated comment section that allows anyone to ask questions about the comic, even if they do not have a tumblr account. these questions are directly on the FAQ itself. it is pre-moderated to keep things on-topic.

bug report page where you can describe problems you're having if the site isn't working right for you. this is also pre-moderated. common/important issues will be pinned

navigation bar

there will be links to all of the ask blogs on the navigation bar, including the AUs

there is a link to the spinch lore page directly at the top. no more digging through the FAQ!

navigation bar has dropdowns to specific types of pages to increase the link count without cluttering/taking up too much space

the links are no longer poorly sized images, instead they are actually made with html

landing page

when you first open the site, you will be linked to a settings page that allows you to set your display settings and content warnings in advance

you can set saturation and select dark mode if you want

this landing page is not bright and has an overlay to prevent it from immediately forcing you to see bright colors

this is everything that is currently implemented. there may be things added in the future, this is just all of my current progress.

what do i have to finish?

uploading the comic. i currently have volumes 1-2 fully uploaded and transcribed, v3 is fully uploaded, and v4 is undergoing the upload process.

finish the archive pages to include all of the volumes

finish the cast profiles

work on the spinch lore page

do proper beta testing with the crew to make sure everything works on as many devices as i can possibly test it on

thank you to everyone for being patient with me over the past few months as i work hard on this. i feel really good actually writing out everything i've done overall because i have more progress than i actually realized!!! i hope everyone is excited to see all of this in action because i can't wait for you to see it either!

[memories-of-ancients]

this human document was written last Summer by a Japanese captain of infantry. the introduction and conclusion have been written by his American friend Seymour Gordden Link, dean of liberal arts at Andrew Jackson University in Nashville Tennessee.

When I attended Columbia University sometime ago I was fortunate enough to be one of two Occidentals admitted to intimacy with two Chinese students, Chang and Kim, and two government - fellowship scholars from Japan, Tatsuo and Mitsui. The latter's true name is not given because identification would doubtless lead to his immediate execution as a trader to his government.

We have corresponded for years. Our correspondence has dealt largely with the arts. Although Mitsui is a great mathematician, he is also a great lover of painting and poetry, of flowers and comparative linguistics. This multiple development is more frequently encountered among the Japanese intellectuals than anywhere else on earth. Most of what I have been lucky enough to absorb about the intricacies of Japanese grammar on honorifics and social usage, I owe to Mitsui. All that he knows of contemporary art and literature outside the Orient comes, he has said, from my letters. And we have exchanged mutual references to our Chinese friends Chang and Kim.

But the other morning came a letter more moving than the others, and more disturbing. While I hold it to be a thing of personal and sacred to me, I offer it in the hope that readers will profit from the small glimpse into the heart of " a thousand Mistuis" and will refrain thereby from too hasty a surrender to the drums of jingoism - S. G. L.

Tokyo, Japan

July 15, 1937

Link sensei,

Writing this I do now in great and lementable haste for the fear is that soon no letters will go out. War has no respect for the things of the heart. And here is War. And here soon one small unwilling captain of infantry will wake from a night of rest and look around to discover he no longer is honored by the friendship of his great friend and teacher in America.

For war enters into the heart where it is not welcome and makes a strange chemistry; and my American friend who once said he had a great love for one small Japanese scholar, will think only of many small captains of infantry making many unpopular battles. He will hold on to the last and say all men are brothers and that he thinks the same thoughts and loves the same poety and speaks the same languages with his former Japanese brothers. but he will remember these things better of Chang and Kim then he will remember them of Mitsui.

For Chang and Kim will be in the war on the side where the heart leans and mitsui will be on the side that the heart is turned against. And he will forget that not a thousand Mitsuis can make a war or stop a war. he will forget that Chang and Kim and Tatsuo and Mitsui and Larson and Link once walked together beneath the shade of trees of the Columbia campus and ate together at the cafeteria and read poetry together in many languages.

And what of Chang and Kim? they who once called Mitsui brother now join their countrymen and blind hate of a thousand Mitsuis. And Mitsui dare not send them a letter full of his ancient love. It would mean the firing squad.

Once upon a time, so long a time it seems, Link sensei wrote in Mitsui's book English translation of a poem, because Mitsui showed him a scroll with a painting of long green plains that led to Fuji. This is written in the heart as War approaches. it says:

All that comes to pass

Of the warriors proud dream

Is this summer grass.

Because the scroll is beautiful and because it has memories in it of the happy years in America it is now enclosed as a parting souvenir of Mitsui who will fall in battle with a bullet from Chang or from Kim and his heart. Please to someday inform these brothers that their bullet entered Mitsui's heart only to find there love and brotherhood and great sorrow.

Here is the death song of Mitsui:

These grasses that bent

Underfoot will lean as soft

Over the cleft skull.

And in the deep roots will drain Love and peace that filled the brain.

Sayonara brother.

Mitsui

I shall never see my "small unwilling captain of infantry" again. He will lead his troops into action and then with his arms at his side walk calmly into the drum fires, thinking as he dies of his Chinese friends, Chang and Kim, and perhaps, I hope, of his American friend whom he did the honor to call sensei, teacher. Thus he will pay homage at once to his ancestors, his Emperor, his friends, and his dream of peace on earth, good will to men. S.G.L.

[arolesbianism]

So I may or may not have spent a good chunk of my day trying to learn how to look into onis code and while I may not have yet succeeded I will likely keep fucking around with shit tomorrow and if I manage to succeed it'll spell great doom for my sanity as oni becomes the interest I've officially poured the most effort into analyzing

[feedthefandomfest]

Comment Bingo: Old Fic Edition

Very simple rules: connect 5 squares in a line by commenting on fics that suit the task in each square

Very simple goals: encourage readers to comment on older fics; encourage fandom writers to KEEP WRITING

STEPS:

Download Bingo Card HERE (png) or HERE (jpg) or HERE (pdf)

Complete the tasks on the card, marking off each as you go, until you've completed 5 in a line (vertical, horizontal, or diagonal; NO double-dipping; center ♥️ is a free space)

POST your winning card (or list your filled squares) and tag @feedthefandomfest! Glory in your victory.

SEARCH TIPS:

This card requires some familiarity with AO3's search filters. Once you've narrowed your results according to fandom/ship/additional tags, certain squares require you to sort the results by Date Updated, which is the default. Other squares require you to search for fics posted within a certain range of years, which you can do by scrolling on the search menu to More Options:

Note that to enter a date range, you must format the date as shown.

REWARD:

✨ victory badges ✨

New badge for this card, but here are examples from previous cards:

Tag me when you earn a bingo (or double, triple, quadruple... FULL CARD bingo) and I'll reblog a shiny badge with your name on it to commemorate the win.

FAQ:

Can I comment on tumblr or only on AO3?

Either one is great! This card especially is more designed with AO3 in mind, but some can be adjusted to suit tumblr as well, so I say go for it. Tumblr fics deserve love, too.

Can one comment count toward multiple squares if the fic fits more than one category?

Since the goal is for as many fics to receive comments as possible, try to comment on a different fic for each square.

Is there a time limit?

Nope! Take your time or set your own deadline, whatever works for you. This blog is still in its early experimental stage, so feedback welcome. Play around and let me know what you like and what might be added/changed—including ideas for squares on future cards!

Do I have to record progress on the actual card?

Nope! If it’s easier to keep track in a different way, that’s fine. This is all very honor system, so if you say you earned a Bingo, we’ll call it a win 🎉

Some people have been tracking not just completed tasks, but the fics they read along the way, so that when they post a bingo, they can also promote the fics/authors in a little rec list. Not required, but definitely cool to see!

Can I adjust the task in a particular square to suit my comfort level?

Of course! If you deliver something in the spirit of the task, then it’s all good. Use your best judgement in constructing a comment that will make the author smile, and you can consider it a job well done.

In general, so long as each square has produced at least one comment, you’re golden and I salute you 🫡

Happy commenting!!

[inkskinned]

the thing is there's like, a point of oversaturation for everything, and it's why so many things get dropped after a few minutes. and we act like millennials or gen z kids "have short attention spans" but... that's not quite it. it's more like - we did like it. you just ruined it.

capitalism sees product A having moderate success, and then everything has to come out with their "own version" of product A (which is often exactly the same). and they dump extreme amounts of money and environmental waste into each horrible simulacrum they trot out each season.

now it's not just tiktokkers making videos; it's that instagram and even fucking tumblr both think you want live feeds and video-first programming. and it helps them, because videos are easier to sneak native ads into. the books coming out all have to have 78 buzzwords in them for SEO, or otherwise they don't get published. they are making a live-action remake of moana. i haven't googled it, but there's probably another marvel or starwars something coming out, no matter when you're reading this post.

and we are like "hi, this clone of project A completely misses the point of the original. it is soulless and colorless and miserable." and the company nods and says "yes totally. here is a different clone, but special." and we look at clone 2 and we say "nope, this one is still flat and bad, y'all" and they're like "no, totally, we hear you," and then they make another clone but this time it's, like, a joyless prequel. and by the time they've successfully rolled out "clone 89", the market is incredibly oversaturated, and the consumer is blamed because the company isn't turning a profit.

and like - take even something digital like the tumblr "live streaming" function i just mentioned. that has to take up server space and some amount of carbon footprint; just so this brokenass blue hellsite can roll out a feature that literally none of its userbase actually wants. the thing that's the kicker here: even something that doesn't have a physical production plant still impacts the environment.

and it all just feels like it's rolling out of control because like, you watch companies pour hundreds of thousands of dollars into a remake of a remake of something nobody wants anymore and you're like, not able to afford eggs anymore. and you tell the company that really what you want is a good story about survival and they say "okay so you mean a YA white protagonist has some kind of 'spicy' love triangle" and you're like - hey man i think you're misunderstanding the point of storytelling but they've already printed 76 versions of "city of blood and magic" and "queen of diamond rule" and spent literally millions of dollars on the movie "Candy Crush Killer: Coming to Eat You".

it's like being stuck in a room with a clown that keeps telling the same joke over and over but it's worse every time. and that would be fine but he keeps fucking charging you 6.99. and you keep being like "no, i know it made me laugh the first time, but that's because it was different and new" and the clown is just aggressively sitting there saying "well! plenty of people like my jokes! the reason you're bored of this is because maybe there's something wrong with you!"

[see-arcane]

Our good friend Jonathan Harker is getting ready to leave for his business trip, Mina Murray is picking out a new journal, Lucy Westenra is charming a gaggle of smitten suitors, Abraham van Helsing is wrapping up his lectures, and Castle Dracula is prepping the guest room for a very long stay.

Which must mean that Dracula Season is here again!

 ‘Dracula Season’ being a catchall term for the voracious reading, memeing, writing, illustrating, analyzing, and general fun-having that’s ensued since Matt Kirkland’s project, Dracula Daily, caught on with us back in 2022. The Substack had already been running before then, but it sparked a conflagration as time went on and readers old and new to Bram Stoker’s Dracula—the actual novel, not Coppola’s fanfiction—devoured it in a way that scratched an itch none of us knew we had. Stoker wrote the book in epistolary fashion, clumping sections together as needed for the pacing without perfect adherence to chronological order. Matt went ahead and put all the events in order and proceeded to set up a lovely chain of emails that delivered entries on those correlating dates.

This style of organization and pacing turned out to not only make the virtual book club that much easier to engage with, but left space in-between to stew on the story and relate with the characters themselves. Every day of waiting in the book feels weightier when you have to pace and sweat and worry in tandem with poor Jonathan trapped in the castle or Lucy wasting away or Mina running out the clock before she loses the fight for her own humanity. And while we sat with the story or the lulls between Dracula Seasons, some of us found ourselves craving more of that ghastly gothic horror goodness to the point that we figured:

“Well. Why don’t I make something?”

And then we did! Tons of creative works have been churned out in the wake of Dracula Daily’s high. I figured that while we’ve still got a bit of time to wait for May 3rd, we should check out all this new stuff in the meantime. (Plus a handful of neat stuff that just clicks with the Dracula itch overall.)

So, in the interest of Dracula Season pregaming, let’s take a look at…

FICTION

Blood of My Blood – A recent addition to the Dracula Bad Ending AU pile, and definitely one of the most harrowing and addictive group-produced narratives I’ve ever come across, Blood of My Blood is the dramatically gothic currently-WIP work of @ibrithir-was-here and @animate-mush’s devious design. Give or take a heap of other fascinated folks (hello!) adding ideas to put more Horror into the Horrors that our cast has to face. The premise:

The Transylvanian climax went fatally sour and the Harkers were forced to shelter with Dracula himself, including their half-vampire son, Quincey. Cut to two decades later, and Quincey finds himself out in modern London, smitten with Lu, adopted daughter of Arthur and Jack, and diving into certain bloodstained old documents that detail the real history of how his parents came to live in the castle. Said revelations coming not a moment too soon, as a storm is coming for him straight from the Carpathians…

Dracula Daily Sketch Collection – An array of illustrations that captures every entry beat by beat, the Dracula Daily Sketch Collection by Georgia Cook, alias @georgiacooked was dished out over the course of the last Dracula Season. Some of the most fun character designs out there.

Fanfiction Spotlight: BlueCatWriter – With a whopping 99 works devoted to the novel Dracula (so far, the number may have gone up since I blinked), @bluecatwriter is one of the most prolific and talented fanfiction scribblers out there. Romances, nightmares, and overlaps between the two seem to crop up the most, give or take a crossover. Seems fitting that those blue paw prints have contributed to BoMB too.

The League of Extraordinary Gentlefolk – An ongoing comic in which all your favorite characters from the Classics section get together and tackle some perils ranging from the mundane to the monstrous. Started by the amazing @mayhemchicken and posted on @lxgentlefolkcomic, this series is a love letter to beloved Victorian era lit, with a spotlight on the two couples leading the League. Namely, the Harkers, ala Dracula, and the Nortons, ala Sherlock Holmes,’ “A Scandal in Bohemia.” Mina and Irene are the driving investigative and steering forces here, and still deeply in love with their likewise-infatuated husbands, just like in their canons! What a concept! Alan.

Without spoiling the full character list, just know there are going to be a ton of familiar faces roaming around before you finish reading the first arc. Said arc having conveniently wrapped up just a few days ago! Give the comic and its bonus silliness a look if you’re in the mood for a new comfort-adventure epic.

Re: Dracula – Probably the most well-known and incredible thing to come out of the initial Dracula Daily wave. This podcast is a full audio drama that follows the same format as the Substack, with episodes coming out in time with the entries themselves. And it has an unfairly cool soundtrack. They have a Tumblr with @re-dracula, a site and a Patreon to check out before the series kicks up again on May 3rd. (Also, keep an eye out for their next work, an audio drama in the same style with Carmilla.)

The Soldier and the Solicitor – Another treat from @ibrithir-was-here, this one involves a bit of time travel trouble. Quincey Harker has stumbled out of World War I and into the same dark forest where his father once fled for his life…then runs into the man himself, on that same night. Jonathan Harker, young and starved and lost, who has no choice but to trust this stranger while the Weird Sisters are at his heels…despite said stranger having no shadow. It’s a tasty emotional trek, already complete on Tumblr, but now it’s turning into a Webtoon. While Ibrithir is juggling a number of other stories, she’ll be redrawing spruced up versions of the comic and adding a few new scenes as things unfold.

Substack Stack – You know what’s better than one emailed-out public domain book club? A mountain of them. Just. So, so many of them. You’ll see that a lot of these are finished, but some are still ticking along. Either way, they’re all great picks if you’re craving some more old school lit to fill the void between undead emails.

Frankenstein Weekly – Frankenstein

Jekyll and Hyde Weekly – The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Voyage of the Nautilus – Twenty-Thousand Leagues Under the Sea

Letters from Watson – Sherlock Holmes

The Invisible Mail – The Invisible Man

Letters from Bunny – E.W. Hornung’s short stories of the eponymous Bunny and Raffles

Letters Regarding Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse’s Bertie Wooster short stories, including the novel, Right Ho, Jeeves

…

……

………

…The Beetle Weekly – The Beetle (NOTE: Do Not Read This.)

The Vampyres – A novella I finally wrenched through the gears of self-publication as of March this year. Starring a petite but powerful paranormal cast, The Vampyres, centers on an unscrupulous undead fellow who finds that the revenants of the world are being mowed down by an entity known only as ‘Quinn Morse.’ Between trying to save his neck and figure out where the shadowy bastard came from, the Vampyre in question crosses paths with a new paramour and handy human shield in the form of a grieving Good Samaritan. He’s even polite enough to invite the Vampyre into his home while he’s in dire straits! Surely this will end well. All the info is available here and a little author site is over here.

What Manner of Man – This is the one made for everyone who started out hoping there’d be a real love story with our good friend Jonathan Harker and the Count when he was at his most charismatic. Where that sea of wonders dried up into a mire of horror, What Manner of Man by @stjohnstarling keeps things firmly on the romantic tracks. This Substack stars the letter-writing priest Father Victor E. Ardelian as he finds himself meeting with one enigmatic Lord Alistair Vane. It isn’t long before interest turns into intrigue and intrigue into undead intimacies.

The entire novel has been completed—along with multiple epilogues in the author’s Patreon, allowing readers to choose for themselves just how the uncanny romance plays out in the end—and the Substack now has a number of other gothic goodies piling up in the meantime.  

NONFICTION

Dracula Daily: A Unique Reading Experience: This one comes courtesy of @realwomenofgaming. It’s a short and sweet piece that amounts to a fun snapshot of the entire Dracula Daily ride. A cozy couple-minute read.

‘Dracula Daily’ is the One Substack You Need a Subscription To: Features my favorite Matt Kirkland interview. @mattkirkland, if you’re still floating around on here, thank you for dispatching our vampire newsletter again this year.

Dracula Daily is Tumblr’s hottest new book club: Alright, the ‘new’ part is worn out by now, but this one is still a delightful article to swing back around to. Two years on, this Polygon piece is a time capsule of those early months when people outside our bookworm bubble realized we were all happily receiving letters from our favorite classic gothic horror blorbos.  

“How Mina Murray Became Dracula’s Girlfriend” – Princess Weekes, if you ever read this, thank you, thank you, thank you. I am sending oceans of love and millions of rewatches to your video essay. If you haven’t seen it yet, “How Mina Murray Became Dracula’s Girlfriend” is one of the most refreshing and well-made breakdowns of both the title subject and numerous other issues that have proliferated in the public view of Dracula’s cast and plot as adaptations endlessly warp or outright bastardize the actual novel. An incredibly cathartic watch.  

Literary play gone viral: delight, intertextuality, and challenges to normative interpretations through the digital serialization of Dracula: A mouthful of a title for an even more elaborate article about the Dracula Daily phenomenon. This one is a full-on study that analyzes just what happened within the big bloodsucker book club surge and how its ‘wandering reading practices’ enriched the experience for participants.

 “The Undying Undead: An analysis of the Dracula Daily community for a theory of online community formation and interaction” – We have a thesis on here! Look at that! @sirangelothebestest’s MA thesis used our vampiric book club as the bones for a massive brick of an academic piece that definitely deserves a look.

…And I think I’ll go ahead and cap things here.

This isn’t everything I got recommended, but if I had squashed all of it in here, I think folks’ eyes would start to fall out of their head. I hope you can find something cool to comb through here. Or, if there’s something great I overlooked, tack it onto the list! We’ve got just two weeks to go until we’re off with Mr. Harker. Let’s enjoy our respite before those castle doors close behind us.

[satoruxx]

THE SPACE BETWEEN COMFORT AND CHAOS.

✧ PAIRING: wolf!toji fushiguro x reader | 3.7k words

✧ SUMMARY: wolfhybrid!toji, hybrid au, grumpy x sunshine, animalistic behavior, bickering, mentions of blood and injuries, survival instincts are non existent, hints at past violence/abuse, toji is an asshole but he's trying !!

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: ignore that i formatted this part all pretty while part 1 is just an ugly drabble. i just didn't expect to turn this into a series lmao. anyways please read part one before reading this so that it actually makes a lick of sense !! also i added people who asked for part two to the tag list so if you wanna be added/removed just lmk :3

you mutter a quiet curse as you step in a dirty puddle, eyes squinting through the torrents of rain pouring from the dark sky. it's bad enough you got out of work so late, but the heavy storm did nothing to make the journey home easier. you grip your umbrella tighter, even though your clothes have still been dampened by stray droplets, and speed up the pace.

it has not poured like this in your city for quite a few weeks now, and the change in weather would be pleasant if you weren't being hit by it full force—indoors, curled on your couch under a blanket, would be ideal. that's what you plan to do after you get inside, after a warm shower and dinner.

speaking of dinner, you're late for your routine meal drop off for your new hybrid acquaintance. though you're almost sure that toji won't be in his usual spot in the alleyway by your apartment in this weather, probably taking shelter where he normally does when the outside is too harsh. plus even if he decided to take his chances to come for food, he would've left as soon as he noticed his plate wasn't there.

you haphazardly push yourself through your front door, nearly tripping as you attempt to close the umbrella while simultaneously avoiding the rain. you inhale deeply once you're safe, leaning back against the door as you catch your breath. the rain sounds are muffled now that you are in your little cocoon of an apartment, and you immediately pull your wet shoes off with a grimace.

half an hour later you're stepping into the warmest, most comfortable pajamas you own, body now clean and thrumming with the freshness that only a good shower can provide. your stomach growls as you step into the kitchen, the rain still slapping against your window, and you immediately try to throw together whatever food you can find.

thanks to toji's daily rations, you have an assortment of meat in your fridge, but you settle for eating some rice and curry, choosing to leave meat for a day where the wolf is actually around.

you're halfway through your meal when you hear familiar sounds in your alleyway, and you can't help the way your jaw drops.

"oh my god there is no way," you mutter under your breath, hurrying over to your door and slipping on your shoes. grabbing your umbrella and snapping it open, you duck under it to avoid once again getting drenched by the downpour, the splashing sounds of your footsteps echoing through the alleyway.

even though he is soaked to the bone, toji looks unbothered, sitting against the wall lazily. his dark ears are laying low against his head, but they twitch to life at the sound of you approaching. you ignore the normal distance that is kept between the two of you, opting to stop right in front of him so you can hold the umbrella over his head. "what are you doing out in this rain?"

"you're late today." he ignores your question, green eyes sliding up your figure to meet your gaze. you shake your head in exasperation, staring down at him with a frown.

"yeah i got held up at work." you adjust the umbrella a little, and toji's eyes flick towards it, as though just realizing it's there. "i didn't think you'd be out here."

"came by earlier and saw your lights were off and you weren't home," he grunts, shaking his wet hair out of his. "just thought it was weird."

(he does not mention how long he sat and waited for you to get back, ears perking at every little noise that turned out to be nothing. he does not mention that after a while he got up to circle the area, eyes on high alert and a rising aggression in his demeanor, only to come back and find your lights on.)

"oh," you say lamely, blinking through mist. toji gets to his feet, and you reel at the way he towers over you. he shakes his head, the water from his ears and hair splashing haphazardly, before nodding once.

"well i'm leaving." he turns to walk away, and you blanch.

"to go where?" you can't help but pry, looking at his back searchingly. you see him shrug, hands in his pockets. his tail remains unmoving with the weight of water, clothing sticking against his damp skin.

"who knows?" he grunts. he nods his head at you gruffly. "get inside."

"but…" you grimace, glancing at the dark sky. "what if you get sick?"

toji's brow raises, and he throws you a sarcastic glance over his shoulder. "i'm not made of fluff, kid."

you can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes at his brashness. you don't know what you're doing, but the idea of him prowling out in the pouring rain makes your stomach churn.

"come inside."

toji's head whips so fast you think he might break his neck, jade eyes going wide. one ear perks at your statement, oddly endearing, and you would've chuckled if his expression wasn't so aghast.

"the fuck you say?"

you swallow, suddenly nervous. seriously what the hell are you doing? "come inside," you repeat, your grip tightening around the umbrella.

"are you fucking insane?" toji's voice is sharp and accusatory, like you've just said the most offensive thing known to man. "why would you even—?"

"it's pouring." you say it blandly. "and i wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing you were sitting out here like that."

"i'll live," he scoffs, and you bristle at the harshness of his tone. "i'm not a cushy little human."

"ha ha," you mock him sarcastically, voice cutting over the sounds of rain hitting your umbrella. "even animals get sick in the rain, don't they?"

he grumbles at that, eyes narrowed at your haughty smile, before he turns to face you completely. "why the hell do you care?"

"i—" you pause, not sure what to say. why do you care? "i just do."

toji rolls his eyes, shoulders raised high as he squints at you through the torrents of rain. a beat of silence passes as you stare back, unyielding, and he finally sighs heavily. "you have horrible survival instincts, you know that?"

you can't help but beam, laughing at his disgruntled expression as he falls into step with you and making sure you angle the umbrella to cover his head. "if you wanna leave later you're free to. just stay until the rain stops."

toji glances at you from the corner of his eye, contemplating. he wasn't joking—you really did have the worst judgement he's ever seen. he can't wrap his head around how you don't find it dangerous to invite a ragged animal into your home, especially one that can so easily tear your limbs off. instead, you have this dopey little smile on your face as you walk him into your space, closing the umbrella with a practiced snap and leading him inside.

well, toji isn't one to complain—he can't even remember the last time he's felt the warmth of the indoors, shielded against the bite of the outside world. and if he tries too hard to remember, he'll find that the last time did not have same sweetness that seems to be radiating off of your very person.

the inside of your apartment is small, but cozy. toji can't help but look around, noticing the details that have made this place your own. he inhales deeply, finding traces of the scent of food, of laundry detergent, of an unlit candle.

of you.

"uh…" your voice has gone slightly awkward, and toji's gaze falls on your sheepish expression. you look somewhat embarrassed, consciously looking around at the lived-in messiness of your space—not that toji really cares. "d-do you wanna wash up? i should have some extra clothes for you around here."

toji grimaces at the feeling of his ragged shirt clinging to his damp skin, but he tries not to make it too obvious how much he welcomes the idea. he can feel dirt and grime under his claws, and the thought of an actual bath makes his head spin with feral delight. "i guess so," he mutters, nonchalant. you seem to relax at his willingness, and you nod as you lead him to the bathroom. he shamelessly looks around, eyeing the pictures of you and other people in your life hanging from your walls. he can smell your half-eaten dinner, and his stomach rumbles.

you push open the bathroom door, and he briefly glimpses a pile of clothes on the ground, along with a few other things scattered here and there.

"fuck," you curse under your breath, heat crawling up your neck as you practically trip over yourself to get inside and tidy up. "j-just wait out here for a second please!"

toji snorts out a sardonic scoff of disbelief. if you really believed that he would care about something as trivial as a pile of laundry, you've got him completely wrong. but he guesses it is just slightly funny to see you so stressed over your dirty underwear because of him.

you rustle around inside and then emerge, breathlessly smiling as though nothing had occurred. toji watches you, expressionless, and you gesture to the bathroom. "okay now it should be all good. there's soap and stuff in there so use whatever you need. let me get you some clothes."

you immediately squeeze past him, trying to head for another room, and that's when toji fucks up. it's an accident, but he can't help his reaction. your elbow accidently nudges his abdomen, and he yelps with pain, the sound morphing into a guarded growl. you immediately recoil, eyes going wide in fear and concern—he internally curses.

"what?!" you gasp, gaze darting over his body. "what happened?"

he clicks his tongue. "nothing," he snarls, fist clenched around the fabric of his shirt. you eye him warily, and he can tell you don't believe him.

"what? are you hurt or something?"

"no!" he snaps back, teeth bared, and that's all the reaction you need before you're crossing your arms and glaring at him.

"listen, if you're hurt you need to get it cleaned and looked at." toji has half a mind to laugh in your face because you look so stupid trying to intimidate him when you're barely reaching his chin. he knows there is stock in what you say, but he is not doing this with you.

"like hell," he grunts, mirroring your posture and sneering down his nose. "i'll be fine."

"you squealed like a puppy when i barely touched you!"

he throws you an appalled scowl. "what the fuck did you call me?"

"i'm right and you know it!" you shoot back irritably. you seem to catch yourself, because you let out an exasperated sigh and your voice goes a little softer. "will you at least let me look at it?"

toji eyes you warily, feeling a strange mixture of trepidation and guilt. he knows he is right to be cautious, and he knows he should not be trusting you no matter how sweet you seem to act. but at the same time he hurts, and he does not want to go back outside even though he's used to it now—something about such free warmth is making the rational part of his brain fall apart.

he sighs heavily, grumbling under his breath and shooting you a withering glare, before he carefully tugs his shirt off. he can feel the wet fabric clinging to his opened skin, and he bites back a hiss of pain as he rips it away. when he's got it off, he just looks at you, accusatory—but you aren't looking at him.

instead you have a distinct look of abject horror on your face as your eyes roam over his body. though he is extremely well-built and quite honestly, very attractive, his skin is marred with scars. old and fresh, they litter his body like a barely thought out map, and you seem to experience a minor heart attack. your eyes zero in on the wounds that are causing him the most pain—a shallow gash cutting just over his stomach and what looks like a deep bloodied bite in his forearm.

"how?" your voice is shaky, and you finally meet his eyes again. "what happened to you?"

"don't worry about it," he mumbles, his voice a little less gruff as he studiously avoids looking at you. "i told you it's not that bad. it looks worse than it is."

you conveniently ignore him, taking a step closer to study his body. frustratingly enough he feels heat crawl up his neck because you're looking at him so intently, teeth digging into your bottom lip and chewing with nervous bites. finally, you tear your gaze away from his torso to look at his shirt, a deep frown creasing your features as you notice the contrasting darkness in certain areas of the fabric—bloodstains. "well you can't leave them open like this."

toji rolls his eyes harshly. "i've lived through worse."

you glare at him once more, and he finds that the expression looks quite good on you. "you need to clean them up, toji."

his name slides off your tongue like butter, and he can feel his canines scrape against his lips. a flicker of something akin to embarrassment trickles over his body, and he frowns distastefully. "no."

you click your tongue, exasperation rolling off of you in waves. "are you stupid? they'll get worse. i mean they're probably already infected and—"

"i don't know how to alright?!" he hisses, baring his teeth at you angrily. your expression turns bewildered, eyes darting between his quickly, before it melts into something frustratingly sympathetic.

"that's it?" your voice is like honey, and he can't decide whether it irritates him or not. "i can help you."

help. toji doesn't believe humans are capable of helping—only harming. but you're looking up at him so imploringly, eyes focused and heavy with the foolish need to bring him comfort. why, he does not understand. but he has never been able to understand why humans act the way they do.

he pins you with a wordless stare, and he knows you've realized he's relenting, because your lips quirk upward slightly. with a nod of your head, you motion him to follow you into the bathroom and take a seat on the edge of the tub. he watches you rummage through the cabinets, pulling out what looks like gauze, disinfectant, a small towel, and a sizeable mug, which you fill up with warm water. he's about to stand up to make space, but you kneel at his feet instead, setting everything at your side and pushing your hair away from your face.

it baffles him, how quick you are to yield to a species that is so obviously beneath you.

but you don't seem to be thinking any of that, gaze darting over his body as you try to figure out how to approach this. "i'll try and clean up all the blood first and then disinfect, okay?" your voice is barely a murmur, but his pointed ears catch the words all the same.

"you're the expert," he grunts, nonchalant. "do what you need to."

you smile wryly, dipping the towel into the water. "you said it, not me."

he snorts out a sound that sounds suspiciously like a chuckle, but you don't comment on it. instead, you are focused on his body. you see numerous scars and welts, some fresh and some so old, and you are surprised at how sad they make you. it seems like the feeling is evident on your face, because toji watches your features with an unfamiliar intensity. you can't help but prod. "how'd you get these?"

your voice is gentle, as though you're scared a lack of fragility will shatter him. but toji has dealt with far worse than whatever sweetness you seem hell bent on showing him.

"betting on animal fights is a lot of fun for rich assholes." he doesn't look at you, but his lip curls with a deep rooted distaste—you think you feel it too.

so that's where toji comes from. the underground hybrid arenas that you've seen on the news many times before. a common place for predators who were normally so unwelcome in society to be put to good use. a controversial topic, because despite its popularity amongst the rich, everyone knew the conditions were not the greatest.

but you never thought they'd be this bad—how naive.

"i'm so sorry," you mumble forlornly, gently tracing the towel over the wounds. toji grunts noncommittally, but doesn't say much else. you're fine with that, and you clean him up with a tenderness that makes his stomach churn.

all he can focus on his how small your fingers looked wrapped around his claws, and he think you might be a lot braver than he is.

after you're done with your handiwork, you leave him to wash up in peace, and toji silently stares at your tiled wall as the hot water pours over his back. he does not know what he's doing, and what he's trying to get from this. sure, being fed everyday was a welcome addition, but he never planned on stepping this close to you—the thought makes him queasy. he does not enjoy the idea of being indebted to a human, because all they do is take and take and take some more.

and yet he finds himself slipping into the clothes you've given him, and when he looks in the mirror he's surprised at how much a simple bath could change him. toji wearily runs his tongue over his teeth, before it traces over the scar on his lips. a wave of disgust washes over him—he pushes it aside.

when he find you again, you're in what he assumes is a spare bedroom, tucking a fresh set of sheets into the corners of the mattress. he drops his old clothes in the corner, and then clears his throat to announce his presence. you turn to look over your shoulder and smile at his cleaner appearance. "you're done?"

he nods gruffly, watching as you stand up straight and take a few steps closer. "did the shower help?" you pin him with a curious stare, and he sighs resentfully.

"yeah," he grumbles, and he can feel your smug little smile saying nothing but i told you so. he has the strongest urge to flick your forehead.

"oh, i can take care of these."

he can't bite back his snarl when you pick up his clothes, and you freeze at the unusually territorial look on his face. he seems to pick up on the little fright he gave you, and his ears lose a bit of their tension as he sighs gruffly. "just…don't get rid of them."

you pause, glancing down at the rags in your hands. you stop to think that maybe these clothes are the one thing that toji has had since the start—important in a way that you won't understand. so you just nod with a reassuring smile. "i won't. i'll just wash them for you."

toji's shoulders relax, and his expression shifts, green eyes looking anywhere but your face. he nods once but doesn't say anything else, and you take it as your sign to continue.

"you can sleep here. i changed the sheets and put some pillows down too." you nod at the bed, pristine and untouched, and toji's bones suddenly ache with fatigue. how long has it been since he's seen a real bed?

he wonders what exactly your angle is. what do you get from helping someone like him? what sick urge do you satisfy by extending pity to a ragged animal? what do you achieve by passing on glittering smiles like they aren't priceless?

and what do you do to make yourself look so innocent through it all?

you're still blabbering about the bed. as much as he tries, toji cannot smell any malice on you—just pure disgustingly sweet kindness.

"how d'you know i'm not a serial killer or something?" he peers down at you with an arched brow, gaze sharp. "i could just eat you in your sleep."

you blink, before smiling sheepishly. "…do you plan to?"

there's a pause, and then for the first time, you see his scarred lips tug up to one side—a half-smile. a quiet chuckle bubbles forth and he crosses his arms. "nah, you're a little too sweet for my tastes."

you frown at him, watching as he dramatically wiggles his clawed fingers and flashes you his teeth, before rolling your eyes. "how flattering."

he snorts out another laugh, and you take the time to put the extra blankets on the old bed. "i've got more blankets in the closet if you need them, so help yourself." you busy your hands with propping the pillows against the headboard, and you see toji nod from your peripheral.

"i'll uh, be outta your hair soon," he mutters, suddenly feeling out of place.

"relax," you answer, grinning with a shake of your head. "i'm the one who asked you to stay so we could get your wounds all better. you're not giving me any trouble."

"right," he murmurs. there's an uncharacteristic gentleness in his tone, awkward and tense, but you recognize it to be a semi form of gratitude. toji glances at your easy going grin, and his skin prickles uncomfortably—he's not sure how to react to such blatant warmth.

"i'm in the next room over so if you need anything, just knock. i'm a pretty light sleeper." you flash him a thumbs up and turn on your heel, heading to your own room. toji waits until he hears the click of your door before taking a cautious step forward. the clothes you've given him are somewhat tight on his figure, and they faintly smell of some other man, which makes his nose wrinkle with distaste.

though he guesses he should try to bite his tongue and be a little grateful—they're much more comfortable than the rags he'd been in for all those months. toji clambers into the bed, claws digging into the unfamilar softness of sheets, and a heavy wave of fatigue washes over him.

he falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, your stupidly sweet smile burning behind his eyelids.

taglist: @h4wkz @babyblue0t7 @en-happiness @ourfinalisation @lymsfm @jazzy00001 @mahoubitch @deedeeznoots @ghost-buddies @teddybeartoji @onimira @polarbvnny @starmapz @thikcems @nonamebbsblog @echodead @pennameyoruichiii @venussdovess @emi311 @meow-satoru

lmk if you would like to be added/removed <33

[botchallthethings]

Stranded colorwork is immensely easier when working in the round

[splatashahowlett]

Birthday Blues

logan howlett x reader

logan hated cake.

well, he hated this cake. the one rogue had spent her entire afternoon baking for your birthday. of course you would have wanted a cake portraying henry cavill out of anyone. even if it was horrifying to admit, logan came to the conclusion -after staring at the cake for twenty minutes- that what he felt may be, somewhat, probably, eventually, potentially close to what you call jealousy.

not because it wasn't his face on the cake, solely thinking about it sent him into a spiral of absurdity. but more because you weren't interested in him in the slightest, and that somehow upset him a little bit. he would live through it though. logan doesn't need anyone and the more people stay away from him the better. so no, he wasn't about to make a move or confess his feelings to you cause you couldn't even call those feelings... logan had never felt this foolish in a long time.

you were turning 28. you almost couldn't believe it. life hasn't been kind to you (read cruel and atrocious) and you were in peace with the fact that you weren't going to make it past 25. so celebrating your birthday, one more time, felt exhilarating. you weren't supposed to be alive still, so it felt like bonus time. and you wanted to make the most of it. "making the most of it" currently meant dancing on a table with your best friend, ororo. not caring if it could break under your sophisticated dance moves, if people love you or if you really did turn off the stove earlier.

in this moment, you couldn't care less. you felt truly happy.

and hot. you felt hot.

not in a "I feel cute" way -well, also in a "I feel cute" way- but burning hot.

you tried to scream over the music, telling ororo you were going outside. she clearly didn't hear you but you needed fresh air so you quickly gave up.

once you were outside you seated yourself on the stairs of the school. you ears were ringing and body sweating. you tried to enjoy the delicate breeze grazing over your cheeks but for some reason you couldn't relax. after a quick glance behind you, you figured your life long crush watching you might be the reason why.

"you startled me" you yelped, a hand flying to your chest.

"sorry kid" he answered, walking over to you. he sat down next to you, careful to leave lot of space between you two. you hated when he called you that. you didn't take it personally because he called everyone that but each time it felt like a sting in your heart reminding you that nothing will ever happen between the two of you, that it was impossible. you both stayed silent, not knowing what to say and how to say it.

"you looked like you were having fun back there" he said, lighting a cigar. you smiled and turned your head to look at him. you were leaving the school soon and this "ahead of time nostalgia" pushed you to do something stupid; you suddenly wanted to find out if there could be something between you. alcohol could also be a factor. so you kept your gaze on him, heart beating at an expeditious and maybe even unhealthy rate.

"I was" you nodded, "were you having fun?" you added.

"s'not really my thing" he sighed, not annoyed but more disappointed.

"having fun?" you joked, still looking at him, he glanced at you with a smile on his face. you were effortlessly soothing to him. you were his own personification of serenity.

"no, dancing and all..." he replied, still smiling.

you looked down, your smile slowly fading. "I'm gonna miss this. our nighttime conversations" you complained. logan's stare was still on you, his eyebrows furrowed.

"you're leaving?" he asked, urgently. you only nodded, saying it out loud would be heart-wrenching. you both fell silent again. you didn't know what to do, should you tell him you've been in love with him since you first saw him? should you tell him you hate him so leaving would be easier? should you stay? a thousands thoughts were rushing through your mind for what felt like an hour but really was only a long minute. this shattering turmoil was interrupted by logan standing up.

"teach me." he said, while holding out a hand. you looked up, confused.

"teach you what?" you said, though still taking his hand and following him on the grass.

"to dance, I want to learn to have fun. I want to have something left from you once you're gone" he said, straight into your eyes and you felt your breath stuck in your throat. so you took a step and captured his other hand in your free one.

"I'm no professional logan" you bantered.

"but you're more than passionate about it, it's all that matters" he answered, in all sincerity while you started guiding his steps into a slow dance. his hand was on your waist, keeping you close to his body.

"were you watching me?" you asked, feeling bold enough to flirt.

"how could I not? you seem to catch my attention in every room you walk in" he admitted, not showing how scared he was at the moment.

"why didn't you say anything sooner? why didn't you say anything when we had time?" you whimpered, on the edge of tears.

logan stopped dancing and pulled you to him. silently apologizing.

"my heart is so full of you I can hardly call it my own" you muttered, in a desperate attempt to fix whatever was to be fixed. logan closed his eyes, jubilating at your confession which also broke his heart considering you both acknowledged your feelings for each other once it was too late. "kiss me" he heard.

so he did, he did kiss you. he kissed you like it was the last thing he would ever do, because it was in a way. he knew he couldn't keep you from leaving, so he let you have a part of him with you: his heart, along with a promise of seeing each other again.

[happiest-hotch]

The Brink of Collapse

Summary: Aaron and reader have been on the brink of divorce for a long time. And then suddenly he's there, and feelings come to a head.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: very angsty, talk of divorce, mentions of strippers

It's been an odd month.

Surreal, in some ways.

You and Aaron have been on the brink of divorce for a while, but once you finally said the word, everything changed. It opened up a new world of feelings and even more hurt.

It didn't seem possible to feel more hurt, but here you are, sitting on the couch, feet tucked beside you, and a glass of wine on the coffee table. You need it for your nighttime reading, the first draft of a separation agreement, your and Aaron's full names on the top.

It feels like physical proof that you and Aaron have failed. Every sacrifice that was made in the decade you had been together wasn't enough. All the love in the world wasn't enough.

It hits you in a deeper place in your chest than you knew existed, and it makes breathing difficult.

Those papers are a taunt you've been putting off confronting, but it's time. It's something you have to do.

Your eyes gloss over the words, but you catch yourself slipping into a defense strategy where your name is removed from you, and it's a draft divorce settlement of detached clients.

"Late-night reading?" His voice makes you jump, startled by his appearance in front of you.

You had spaced out, thought he escaped through the front door to avoid whatever this awkward situation could be categorized as. You find yourself wishing that he did as he looks at you, trying to profile your thoughts. Dick.

You're both trying to keep life somewhat normal for the children, not wanting them to be caught up in your mess which means when he's in DC, he picks them up for the day and drops them back home. You just thought he'd leave out the front door rather than come across the house to talk to you.

"It's not that late." You reply. "Do you actually want to do this?" You're not sure why you ask, not when it's going to hurt.

"Do what, Ms. L/n?" Aaron asks, but he knows. He walks behind the couch and into the kitchen, taking the open bottle of wine and pouring himself a glass without invitation.

"Get divorced." You answer before adding something you probably shouldn't since there's no need. "I'm still technically Mrs. Hotchner."

He doesn't chuckle at your quip, but he looks close. "You wouldn't be holding that if we didn't." Carefully chosen words, as expected. "I've always loved that part of your name."

You scoff, shaking your head. "That's a conflicting message."

Aaron shrugs, sitting down on the couch next to you. You kind of wish he hadn't. He could have just gone back to wherever he's staying and you wouldn't have to do this metaphorical dance.

"They're not mutually exclusive." He explains. You try to keep a neutral expression, but it's hard to hear that your soon-to-be ex-husband likes that you have the same surname. "I love the name, doesn't mean we can't get divorced."

"I won't be Mrs. Hotchner then." You remind him, but you keep it lighthearted in tone.

The air is getting too grave and when things get too grave, you both say too much. It's painful conversation, of late. No more 'I love you's and bleeding heart promises of fixing it. You both know you're beyond repair so you talk about that, and it's getting depressing.

He shrugs. "Not necessarily. Plenty of women keep the name after divorce."

Divorce.

That dirty word that's become your reality.

"I've not considered it." You confess. It seems easier to be honest about something little. "Would it bother you? If I kept it?"

He waits a beat, staring into the semi-opaque wine. "No. Not in the slightest."

"I feel it could get real awkward." You admit and he frowns, not understanding what you mean. "When someone says, 'Oh, are you related to Aaron Hotchner' and I have to say, 'Yeah, he's my ex-husband.' I mean, you know half this town."

Aaron considers it for a second, that thoughtful frown on his brows. "I hadn't considered it." Obviously. "You have my blessing if you keep it."

You chuckle humorlessly. "Thanks."

"This whole thing doesn't have to be adversarial." He reminds you, but it's not condescending. He's almost smiling, lips tugging up at the corners.

Your eyes narrow at him. "Have I done something to make this feel adversarial?"

It's snider than it needs to be, but he comes back professionally. "No. But I've seen couples in our situation start arguing, even yelling, at every step."

You snort out a laugh. "The life of divorce attorneys, right?" He's telling it like you don't know like you're not still in the job he left for the FBI. You bite your bottom lip, considering whether to drive the conversation in a different direction, and come to the conclusion that it might make the conversation lighter and with it, stop the clenching feeling of your heart. "Do you still remember the Beamounts?"

He laughs louder than you've heard in a while. That does the trick and gives you a quick breath of relief, but it's gone as soon as it's there. "I couldn't forget it." He assures you. "Do you still have her little card? The one you kept in your wallet?"

You're almost giddy listening to him laugh, and it makes you giggle as you recall it. "Yes! She ran those exotic dance clubs, I remember. I'm still not sure if I'm offended she gave me the card… like, I can't work out if she thought I might be interested and would want to come watch, or if she thought I'd like to leave seven years of school and a law career behind to strip."

"Do you want me to take care of that card? It's been in there for what? Twelve years?"

His offer throws you a little, but your reaction comes out as teasing. "Oh, do you need her card? Now that we're about to be divorced?"

"I certainly don't." Unsurprising, he has no trouble with women. "But I do want to preserve your wallet's purity."

"I think she gave me the non-explicit version." You explain to him. "I'm sure there are some racy ones out there for guys that are into that stuff..." Something prompts you to push it further. "Like you."

Aaron laughs again, and you get another breath. "Very occasionally." He assures you.

"There's photographic evidence, Aaron." You remind him, smiling softly at the photos Morgan showed you of some BAU boys' nights out. Aaron looked so uncomfortable, and you're sure he spent the entire evening refusing to look at any woman's assets. It makes your stomach churn knowing that, if the situation arises again, he won't act the same way. "Unfortunately, good old Mrs. Beamount is spoken for these days, so I guess the card has no use to you."

He hits you with something you don't expect, although maybe you should have since it's in line with your mutual reminiscing. "That was the first time we met. Just baby lawyers thrown into the craziest case."

"I remember laughing with you about how ridiculous it was." The first time you laughed together about that, you breathed deeper than you ever have before. "Do you remember the thing with the dog?"

He snorts with laughter. It's probably not meant to be as attractive a sound as it is. "That damn chihuahua he insisted was possessed? I remember being so annoyed because I knew the dog couldn't be possessed. I kept asking myself what I'd done so wrong in my life that I had a client expecting me to argue it." Hearing his thoughts now is different than just laughing about back then. "Then when we got there, the damn animal was barking and growling in a demonic way. That was the weirdest thing I've ever seen in my life. It was possessed."

The passion with how he talks about a damn dog makes you smile. "Now imagine everyone seeing that and having to argue it wasn't demonic." You remind him of what your position was as his opposing counsel. "I felt so ridiculous arguing it. And she wanted the divorce settlement to include him taking it to the groomer." You shake your head disapprovingly at the memory. "It creeped me out that she kept it in her purse. That was the ugliest dog I'd ever seen."

It's odd to be laughing with him, considering your precarious relationship circumstances, and even odder that it's about the first case. Surely it should be about what Eden said today, bonding over your kids seems less intimate than talking about when you met.

"I remember she even tried to make herself look more motherly and nurturing in court, by taking care of it during the proceedings." He continues.

It's like you're watching the whole thing again, but you know how it ends. "I was just praying she wouldn't start breastfeeding it." You say. "Her boobs were so plastic that I think if she put that rabid dog near them, he'd chew them."

Aaron loses it laughing, clearly seeing the mental image that worried you 12 years ago. "Okay, okay, that's enough." He finally manages to get out.

You finish off the laughter, letting it die down rather than continuing the conversation.

"What did you think of me?" He asks, a surprising tangent. "When we first met?"

You know he knows since it had been discussed it a few times between dating and marriage, wanting to reminisce. Why he's asking now, you're not sure, and why you're answering, you're even less sure.

"I thought you were a jerk." You admit.

He laughs, but he's thinking about whether you think that again now. "Yeah?" He prompts you to go on.

"That's what happens when you arrive at a mediation meeting five minutes late with Ferrari keys." You remind him with the same disapproving frown.

You can still remember when he walked into the big boardroom, dressed in a perfectly fitted dark blue suit with his hair longer than it is now and parted down the middle. Compared to now, he looked so young, just 25 and straight out of law school, not having seen the most awful parts of the world. He's different now. His shoulder bag switched out for a briefcase being the most minor change.

When he walked into the room that first day, you were equally as pissed off by and attracted to him. It's full circle that you feel that way again.

"I had to find parking." He reasons.

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. "You didn't valet your car?"

"After the Ferrari, things were tight," Aaron says, but it's a joke. You both know he has money, the separation agreement dividing your assets wouldn't be so long if neither of you had money. "What about after that?" He asks. Sadistic or masochistic, you're not sure. It hurts you to relieve it in your memory, but is it hurting him?

"I was leaving that meeting. As fast as I could, of course." You pause for his laughter. "And you were already in the elevator." It hurts to recall, just like you expected. "I wondered if I should join you."

You still wonder now, if you made the right decision that day. On one hand, you'd have none of the good memories, but on the other, you wouldn't feel like your chest was clenching and your heart was threatening to shatter with each breath.

You decide to keep telling the story. "And I did. And you made me laugh, right off the bat, both of us giggling about the ridiculousness of our clients."

"Not very professional." He notes with a smirk. "Opposing counsel gossiping about their clients."

Your eyebrows pull together in a frown. "Why'd you make the first joke then?"

He wants to tell you it's because he needed to make you laugh, just to hear it and see you smile. His fear takes over and he settles for a quip. "I mean, you looked uptight, but I could tell you weren't."

Your scoff is accompanied by you hitting his shoulder, both of you laughing and it suddenly hits you that you're flirting with him.

It must hit him too because what he says is out of left field. "Part of me wonders if the reason you're only just looking at that is because, on some level, you're hoping we'll fix things and get back together." Fuck! Aaron has always been a straight shooter, but that was far too much honesty.

You gulp, the saliva in your mouth drying up. "Hey, let's just not go there, okay?" You offer. It's not a conversation you want to be having. Your mixed emotions coupled with his ability to push you, it's not a good combination.

"Sure." He admits, but his tone suggests he's unhappy, and so does his sigh. You're begging him with your eyes not to push it, to leave the house and the conversation, and not make it awkward and hurtful. "I never wanted this to be an argument. Do you know that? I know I've never been great at communicating and all this, but I've always tried to do the best for you, always tried to... I mean, I've never gotten divorced before, so I'm still feeling out the right way to do it."

You're not impressed he's lying through his teeth. Both of you know he didn't "always" do his best at communicating. Those last few months, he barely spoke to you. In fact, this conversation might contain more words than an entire few months.

And is there a "right way" to get divorced? You don't know, but you wish you could stop picking apart everything he's saying, overanalyzing.

You're caught on the first statement. "This isn't an argument, is it?"

"I guess not, but there's a vibe." He points out. "Maybe I'm being hypersensitive. Listen, I know this is hard. I think we both knew this probably wasn't going to be the easiest thing, right?"

You avert your gaze from him, a few tears welling in your eyes. "Yeah, we knew that."

"Hey, look at me." He implores.

You tilt your head to the ceiling, trying to stop crying before you start.

"If you're not ready to do this, then please just talk to me." He says- begs. "Please talk to me."

It's ironic really, him sitting there begging you to talk to him when formerly, it's been you doing the begging for him to share his feelings with you. An embarrassing amount of begging, really.

"Please don't do this." You beg back. "I'm not interested in the idea of being vulnerable in front of you, okay?"

He sighs a bit, hands falling to his side. The look on his face you can read. He's upset about not being able to comfort you, and he's begging himself not to show it. What the fuck does that mean?

"Fine." He agrees. "It's... I don't think I ever fully realized how much this whole thing would hurt, but I'm seeing it now."

You don't thank him sarcastically for being obvious. It's twisted that he's spilling his emotions now, and it's hard not to be resentful about it. If he had just fucking talked to you when you begged him to every night in your last month together, you wouldn't be here. It's too little, too late.

"I guess." You agree. "We'll just get it over with."

It stings his heart, so he stings you back. Whether it's intentional or on reaction, you can't tell. "Maybe you're right and we should get it drafted and signed so we can be finished as soon as possible." But, most surprisingly, he flip-flops. "I miss you, Y/n."

It's the same rollercoaster of emotions that your brain is riding in your head, but at least you're not saying it out loud and confusing the shit out of him. "Don't say that, Aaron." You warn him.

He has the nerve to be surprised by your harsh tone. "...what? It's just a fact. I miss you. Why is that bad to say?"

"Because I missed you for four months while you had one foot out the door of this marriage." You finally snap.

Aaron looks stunned and it only makes you angrier and more upset. "I know," He tells you.

He knows, but he'd never do anything about it. You try to act casual, taking a deep breath. "Okay." You attempt to leave it at that.

He won't let the conversation go. "I should have fought for us."

"You still can." You're not sure why you say it, but you do. Maybe you give him one last chance because you'll regret it forever if you don't.

"I am more in love with you than I have ever been." He bursts out, unable to help himself given the chance.

It makes your heart soar and your eyes water. You sit there silently, wrapping your arms around yourself tightly like it might protect you.

"I never should have put you in a position where you felt like something was wrong with us." Aaron looks at you so sincerely that you can't help the tears running down your cheeks. "It got to a point where I felt like I couldn't fix it so I didn't try, and I'm aware that was the wrong choice every day."

"I don't know what to say." You tell him. "Why bother coming to this conclusion, and telling me about it, when it's too late?" Maybe you're protecting yourself more than you need to be.

Aaron shakes his head. "Because it isn't."

"Aaron." You shake your head, holding up the literal divorce papers that exist to remind him. "So much has happened in the last four months."

"Not too much, though." He emphasizes.

He's pushing a button that makes your emotions boil over. "I don't even know where you're sleeping." You remind him firmly.

"Holy shit, Y/n!" Aaron's quick to assure you of what might have been going on in your head. "No." He pauses. "I'm sleeping at my office." You can't say that doesn't relieve you. "You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid eyes on. Since the day I met you, I've never looked at anyone the same."

His strong assurances make you cry more. "I don't know if we can fix this." You admit, disappointed in yourself.

"We absolutely can." He pleads to you. "You said we should get a divorce because love isn't enough to make this better, but there is more than love here. I am committed to you and I want to fix this."

You continue your tears and he reaches out to touch your cheek, wiping away your tears with the pad of his thumb. You lean into his soft touch. "I do too." You admit, the realization alleviating some of the aching in your chest.

"You mean the world to me," Aaron tells you firmly. "I will do anything to get us back on track. I wasn't before and I know I was stupid for it, but I'm listening, Y/n. To everything you need and want."

"I think we need help." You confess. "Like professional help."

He can't nod fast enough. "I agree. We can get that."

You stop him before he can pull out his phone. "Tomorrow." You request. "I just want a hug."

He hasn't had you in his arms in far too long, and he reaches out for you. You lay on his chest, letting him wrap his arms around you.

"Wow, I've missed you." He hums, breathing out a deep sigh of relief.

You sniffle your tears, nodding in agreement. "Me too."

"Y/n, I will never let it get this far again," Aaron assures you. "I was stupid and I can't lose you. I love you."

You're sure you feel the same way. Everything definitely wasn't fixed and there was a lot to do, but one thing you're sure about is being married to Aaron Hotchner. "I love you too."

[plutolovesyou]

how soon is now? | part one

READ THIS FIRST 🇵🇸

teasers: one. two. series masterlist. next part here!!

♡: hallway crush!ellie x uni student!reader

☆: listen, i know this timeline is kind of ridiculous, but i’ve organized it all best as i can! this is the expanded story based on those first little blurbs introducing the au (reads fine on its own though), and this part specifically was originally going to be one huge fic, but i've ultimately decided to split it up and drop the first part now, because i feel like it ends in a convenient enough space where i can make a separation not so jarring. so that means this will have a direct continuation (how soon is now? 2 ? lol this is so stupid-), and that will be posted soon enough once i finish it! but yes that means after so much waiting, it's finally here for y’all. i literally thought up this silly idea right before i passed out on new years, and never expected y’all to love it so much…but i keep my promises, so here. also love the smiths and felt the title sort of fit. i feel like not too much happens but eh anyway, thank you for waiting, thank you for reading, and please enjoy!

♧:4.6k word count

◇:suggestive but not explicit - horny descriptions and tension, however no smut (for now?….BUT DON'T HOLD ME TO THAT.) no descriptions of reader’s physical appearance, no use of “y/n”, slow-burn construction and loooooads of pining, a lot of build up but stay with me, attempts at occasional foreshadowing, smau elements(text messages lmao), savage starlight is a plot point lol, hallwaycrush!ellie is sort of a mix of loser/modern/university au/dorky-ish ellie I DON'T EVEN KNOW. abby is your bestie, girl what else do i put here- this is just kinda plot, plot, and more plot progression about the whole ordeal, and me indulging my obsession with modern!ellie. (lmk if there's anything to be added!)

“Abbyyyyyyyyyy.” 

You rolled around your lifelong best friend’s bed, babbling her ear off while she studied away at her desk, or tried to at least. This situation has been a daily occurrence for weeks at this point.

Laying on your stomach facing away from her, you could hear her scoff in annoyance. “What?” “Please give me some advice..I don't know what I'm even supposed to do. She's driving me up the wall." This crush was the sole thing occupying your poor mind, so naturally, you had to drown your bestie with your troubles as well. That's what friends do. Abby spun around on her chair to face you, with a clearly fed up expression on her face, and leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knees. 

“Well I don’t fucking know man, I’ve already given you my best advice, and that's either introduce yourself, or suffer.” She said coolly. You sat up and groaned. Wasn't there an easier way? One that didn't involve actually taking initiative and doing something? Maybe, hypothetically, you ace a test, and the professor announces it in front of everyone as he emotionally congratulates his star student, and she bounds over, beaming. Then tearfully confesses her love and admiration for you- hold on, where the fuck is this going?

“Oh come on, you know I can’t do that..” You gulped a burning bundle of anxiety down as you replayed the scenarios with your obsession for the thousandth time that day, the mere crumbs you were forced to fixate on until you saw her next, the first sighting that started this whole fiasco,  and shook your head to clear it and listen to what your best friend had to say. She sighed and rubbed her eyes, slamming her textbook shut and making her way over to sit next to you.

“Listen babe, I love you, but you really gotta get ahold of yourself, alright?” She spoke sternly, looking you straight in the eyes to make sure you understood and absorbed every last word she said. “Listen, here's what you're gonna do. when you pass her in the hall, smile, it's simple but it's a classic, okay? And then you listen to the lecturer as normal, right? I have no idea what you nerds do in astrophysics, but that's besides my point. Make sure to pay attention and not stare only at her like a stalker or something, I cannot stress enough how normal you gotta be. But here's where it gets good, you still with me?” 

You're listening to her for sure, and nod vigorously. Crystal clear. She continues, “Okay you said you sit as far as possible from her? Sheesh, why'd you do that? When the class is over I want you to go over to her, and introduce yourself. Catch her on her way out, tap her on the shoulder if you're feeling bold. Ask for some of her contact details, play it cool. Just don't shit yourself, got it? All you gotta do." 

Abby finishes her speech, smirking and looking smug. She's positive she got through to you this time. On the surface you're totally chill, confident even, ready to snatch this ethereal being for yourself, however underneath all that you knew you didn't have an ounce of the courage that was required for this seemingly impossible task. 

Breathing deeply to calm yourself and try to take in her helpful words as best as possible, you give Abby a hug. “Thank you Abs, really. I'll do my best. Oh, but what if I freak out and start stuttering- or what if I trip and fall on her…I can't do this what the hell.” Swarmed with worry, you start doubting yourself yet again. Burying your face in your palms, you feel two strong hands on either side of your upper arms and you look back at Abby, who's really not playing around anymore. 

She was so serious about this it almost scared you. Either she cared about you more than anything, or she wanted to hear the end of these pathetic, lovestruck rambles. You prayed it was the former. 

“Suck it up. You can do this. You've had crushes before haven't you? This should be a piece of cake c’mon, I believe in you. Make sure to keep me updated every step of the way! I need to hear every last detail.” She lightens up at the end and releases you from her grip once she sees you've relaxed. 

Unsurprisingly, your best friend always knew what to say to snap you out of your spirals. Maybe most would disagree with her methods, say she was being rough, but they worked for you. Heart rate returning to a normal pace, you reply genuinely. 

“Okay, okay I got this. Yeah, it'll be fine.” She was getting through to you, this time you felt sure of it. “Good, good. Now will you let me finish this stupid assignment? Then we can watch something or do whatever." Abby chatted as she got up and sat back at her desk, resuming her studious endeavor as she left you with your thoughts. 

Immediately you heard her mutter, “All this and you don't even know her goddamn name…good grief.” For the sake of preserving the peace you chose to graciously ignore that one. She said she wanted some quiet, didn't she? 

Drifting away into a sea of daydreams, your thoughts inevitably returned to being clouded by this cryptic figure. It was like she'd cast a love spell on you. Did she even know who you were? Or did she shoot everyone those insufferably charming looks of hers. Was she even aware of how fucking cool she was? 

Dressed in that deliciously grungy style, you yearned to know what floated behind her greener-than-grass eyes. Her hair looked so smooth and soft, the wispy auburnette strands framing her refined features, intriguing fern tattoo decorating her lean forearm…. You felt your cheeks begin to heat up as a portrait of her materialized in your mind's eye. Nestling into the comfortable atmosphere of your best friend's room, you sunk deeper into your thoughts.

Like Abby had mentioned, it certainly wasn't as if you've never had crushes before, you've certainly had your fair share of them, like most people. But that was a sort of flaky, surface level interest, whether it be for their looks, their little quirks, or ways they treated you. Maybe it has been a while since you'd had a proper crush, but you couldn't recall a time when the infatuation, the pure limerence, had hit you this hard before. You almost felt helpless, just besotted by her.

You simply needed to act on this. Right then and there you steeled yourself, and decided you were going to follow Abby's advice after all, and go after this hallway crush. Worst comes to worst, she turns you down, you get over it eventually, bla bla end of story. It wasn't going to be too complicated, right?

You and Abby had stayed up all night, dusk till dawn, gossiping about things other than your hallway crush, shocking, and you were greatly regretting that decision the very moment it was time to gather your books and get to class.

You really did not feel like stunning everyone around you with a gorgeous outfit today, you were just trying to make it through the day in one piece to be honest with yourself. 

With a pounding headache you threw on some mismatched sweats, and ran out the door to be on time. Your bag felt unreasonably heavy as you made your way down your apartment stairs, and you cursed your past self for choosing a building without an elevator. Sure, exercise is healthy, but it can’t be when you’re feeling like a zombie, and wish for nothing more than a good, long nap.

Luckily the lecture hall was a comfortable distance away from your place, not far enough to make it a pain, but enough so you could get a much needed breath of fresh air. The tiredness had pushed all plans of action you and Abby had discussed the previous night to the back of your head, and you weren't thinking of your crush at all. At least for now. 

Walking slowly with your gaze pointed downward, you eventually made it to the hall. Completely dazed and zoned out, you made a mental note to never pull an all nighter again, gross, who’s idea was that- thump. 

Out of nowhere you're rudely jolted from your silent sulking by colliding with something, or someone? It takes a moment to register what happened, and you quickly look up from staring at the ground to sort the situation out. “Oh my gosh I am so sorry..” 

Profusely apologizing while simultaneously being smacked across the face with the realization of who this was. Her. Your words trail off as you’re suddenly winded, and you feel your blood run cold. You’re transfixed by the intense eye contact, and it feels like time has stopped. Goodness, this is dramatic. 

In the time it takes for you to briefly die and come back to life, the young woman has lowered her chunky headphones so they rest around her neck, Morissey’s vocals faintly floating out of them, and is looking at your stunned state with an indiscernible sneer playing on her face. Was this actually happening? Holy shit you and Abby did not discuss this scenario…you weren’t looking where you were going and had collided with an actual Earth angel. Great.

Still gawking at her like an absolute buffoon, akin to a deer in headlights, she breaks the tension first, with a smooth voice that you would obey virtually any command for. 

“Nah, you’re good.” And a wink. Your heart skipped a beat, or four, when you witnessed her wink at you. Did you imagine it? Was she being suave on purpose or did she have an eyelash in her eye…Was your life a literal rom-com or what? 

“Um..” Your mouth opens and closes in an attempt to form a coherent sentence, but your brain is much too fried to do so because, well, you had just made physical contact with the literal girl of your dreams. And gods did she smell good…while you’re unable to tear your eyes away from hers, she keeps talking as if nothing happened.

“I think the prof had an emergency or fuckin’, I dunno.” She stops to gesture around the two of you at the crowd that had formed in front of the auditorium’s double doors with elegant, ring adorned fingers..holy fuck you needed those inside you right fucking now- WHAT. 

Briskly shoving those thoughts down to the deepest depths of your subconscious back to where they belong, you turned your attention back to her, and put on a brave front. Hyper aware of how searing hot your face felt, her pretty self didn't show a hint of caring that you were making a fool of yourself. They say that any situation is always worse in your head than it was in actuality, well you hoped so. 

“So, what are we supposed to do now?” Clearing your throat you managed a sentence back, hooray. You were doing this. Good job. Although, of course, before the gorgeous nymph before you had a chance to respond with her own assumptions, a substitute lecturer you had never seen before pushes his way through the crowd and unlocks the door while people file in, separating you from her. You felt like Rose, viciously torn away from Jack from Titanic, what a cruel, cruel world this was.

And once again you didn't get to ask her name. Re-slinging her bag with one arm, she looks back at you one final time and throws you a “cya around.” Before disappearing into the auditorium with everyone else. You meekly nod at her and force a lopsided smile, before leaning against the wall to steady yourself after that fiasco in the now empty hallway.

Wasting virtually not a moment of time, you pulled your phone out and began furiously texting Abby with a recount of the events at a speed faster than the speed of light. 

Once that excruciatingly torturous class was over, you applauded yourself for containing the stares in her direction and keeping your eyes fixated on the professor. Whether you actually retained any information, now that was a different story. Picking up your bags and laptop, you stay behind for a moment as everyone else files out, no need to crowd and suffocate amongst the other students, and you had nowhere to be except catch up on your favorite shows and relax all by yourself. 

Filing out the auditorium with everyone else, you see a familiar face pass by you, and vaguely hear Abby’s voice in your head urging you to seize the moment. Now’s your chance, go! And so you gather every little bit of strength you possess to do just that. 

After a couple deep breaths you jog up to her. “Uh, hey.” She turns around and gives you a warm smile, making your legs instantly turn to jelly. You subtly checked her out and took in her outfit, another bulky jacket and lightly distressed jeans. Fingers studded with layered silver rings, and those big ole headphones seemed to be magnetically attached to her, she always had them on her. Note to self: ask for some music recommendations.

She was even hotter up close…with a beautiful galaxy of freckles scattered across her fair skin, you wanted to place a kiss on every single of them. “I, um, never caught your name.” “It's Ellie.” She sticks out her hand for a handshake and you accepted it, you finally had a name to the face you've been pining over so intensely for so long. Abby was going to lose it once you tell her about this. You steady your voice and hide the glee that was likely evident from this interaction going so smoothly, and introduce yourself to her as well.

After some time of idle chit chat and standing there, neither one of you knowing really what to say, Ellie pipes up, facepalming, tsking, and furrowing her brows. “Oh yeah, I don’t mean to spring this on you outta nowhere, but would you wanna study sometime?” She flushes a dusty pink, “I don't know anyone else taking this course and am having kind of a hard time with it...when I chose it, I expected it to be more about space and the planets, and less about numbers and math, my head hurts.”

Her demeanor was making you feel rather comfortable with her, even though the two of you had just formally met a few minutes prior. “I would love to, yeah!” Maybe you were being a little too enthusiastic, but at this point you were operating on pure instinct and not thinking critically of what was coming out of your mouth. “I actually don't have any plans now, or today at all, so if you want to, we can get a head start before the next class?” Well that just slipped out. Go you, blurting things out. 

You had no idea why you'd said that because your place was an absolute mess, clothes strewn everywhere, trash can still full, you'd been too preoccupied with your studies, and well her, to do much about it. To your horror, Ellie exclaims, “Hey, that's perfect! I don't have anything to do right now either, and it would be good to act on it while it's still fresh in my mind, y’know?” Her face morphs into an adorable toothy grin as she taps on her skull comically, you were becoming more obsessed by the second, if that was even possible.

Every little sliver of her personality you got to see under the stoic one you had assumed she had just grasped at your heartstrings. You smiled back at her so hard you almost pulled a muscle in your cheeks, “Awesome! Follow me, then, my dorm isn't far.”

The walk there was mostly fine as the two of you made it to your place, Ellie occasionally making comments about how she hates the class even though she adores outer space and learning about it on her own time, and you were nodding and acting as if you're listening, agreeing with her robotically while she rambled away and you daydreamed about what her lush lips would feel like on yours. You wondered if she was gentle with it, or if she’d kiss you hungrily, devour you like her very last meal….gulp.

Leading her to your place was an automatic task, not much navigation needed, and when the journey was done you had to legitimately stop short for a moment in an attempt to soothe the pounding in your chest. 

The crush that has plagued your mind for ages, who you've just met formally today, was about to be in your room. The two of you were about to be alone. That was totally fine, yeah, she can't be a murderer…..right?

“You good?” She asked sweetly, why did she have to be so nice, “Those stairs were killer, I totally get it, phew.” “Oh for sure, gets me every time.” Covering up your panic smoothly, you unlocked the door and went inside with her. When she walked inside, Ellie took a glance around your room and set herself down at the edge of your bed, immediately making herself comfortable, while you still lingered in the doorway, awkwardly swaying and staring at her, unsure of what to do with yourself. 

Suddenly you had completely forgotten why she was here in the first place. “No way, you read Savage Starlight too???” She spotted the figurine on your desk and snatched it up in her hands to inspect it thoroughly, with a childlike wonder in her eyes. “Wow, this one was a limited edition and it sold out in like an hour, I'm so jealous you got this!! How much you want for it, I'm serious.” She was so excited, and you couldn't believe it. Savage Starlight has always been one of your favorite comics ever, you've loved it since you were a young teen, and now this seemingly perfect human before you, who you're hopelessly obsessed with says she loves it too? Could she get any more flawless, is all you could wonder.

Her happiness because of this little thing you two bonded over was infectious, and some of your nerves slowly began to go away.  Grinning genuinely, you sheepishly said, “I've never met anyone else who likes it, that story has helped me through lots of phases in my life, and Daniela was my gay awakening.” Ellie gaped at you for a beat, making you almost doubt revealing that information.

“No. Fuckin’. Way. Mine too! Her suit was just- damn. And those action scenes in the third volume had my thirteen year old self’s brain just mush for, I don't even know for how long. This is crazy, I can already see we’re gonna get along so well.”

You wanted to talk to her about everything and anything forever, and her glee made you want to squish her, but there was unfortunately work to be done first. “There’s so much we have to discuss, but we gotta get some studying done first if we wanna make it out of this course alive.”

You were sitting at your desk, hunched over the sprawled out textbooks and messy notes, as you drew the graphs and talked to her about the concepts she was struggling with. Your desk was so small and you only had one chair, and you were the one using it, so Ellie was forced to hover over you to see all you were doing.

Focusing solely on the subject before you was proving to be more difficult as studying time went by, because you were a little too aware of the way she had caged you in against the desk to watch, her oversized shirt grazing your upper back. You gripped your pen ever so tightly to minimize any trembling, and kept a steady voice as best you could while explaining it all.

She was so, so close, the tension in the tiny room was palpable, she didn't seem to notice your nervous tremors or the proximity she’d created, and the low murmurs of, “ohhh, mhm, yeah,” as you embarrassingly stammered over your explanations made you flushed and to be frank, needy. You could feel her warmth radiating off of her, could faintly hear her breathing just above you. You didn't dare move a muscle. Was she feeling this too?

At this point you swore the delicious gravelly vibrations from her voice this close to you would be plenty enough to make you cream your pants. The air in the enclosed space was getting hotter and thicker by every passing moment, it took everything you had to keep yourself from losing your mind right now. If you moved back a petty few inches, you’d be pressed flush with her front. What would that be like, you wondered. Oh, no. Your throat felt drier than the desert when you swallowed, the thought of that making you weak.

Since your focus on the work was lapsing, you were beginning to make some little mistakes and blunders, compelling her to take the pen right from your hand and fix them herself. “No, no, this one’s supposed to be like this instead, see? Then you're able to get the right answer which is…” She stretches over you further, you nearly whined, someone save you, and grabs the textbook to review the solution. “Like this, yeah, I was right. Honest mistake though, don’t worry about it.”

You nod your head and make a pathetic murmur of approval, ignoring the fiery tingles spreading all the way up your arm when her hand bumps yours to return the writing utensil, and the blistering coil of want forming in your stomach. This all had to be deliberate, right? She couldn't lack that much spatial awareness, could she? Well, it wasn’t that you minded, she could get as close as she damn wanted to, you'd let her throw you around like a ragdoll even- you were just afraid your heart was going to give out if she kept it up. “Could you show me this work you guys did? Of course the one day I'm late, the prof talks about something new and I miss it.” 

What feels like an eternity later, you hear her groan above you and she returns to her earlier spot on your bed. You can finally breathe properly. Glancing at the clock, your own headache begins to set in. Crap it was late, how time flies. 

“We’ve been studying for so long, it’s getting late.” “Shit, you’re right, I’ve definitely overstayed my welcome. Sorry about that, and hey, thanks for this. I understand it all a lot better now, see you tomorrow.”

She stands up abruptly and ushers herself out of your door in a flash, to which you clumsily stand up, knock your chair over, and hastily run after her, not wanting her to go just yet. “Wait, Ellie!” “What's up, did I forget something?”

She pats her pockets and looks at you with concern. Round puppy dog eyes, and lips in a miniscule pout, so cute. You were in front of her now, but did not process what you actually wanted to say. Just ran after her like the smitten nincompoop you are. Upon feeling your face go hot, you look at the ground to mutter, “Uh- nothing. See you later.” Realistically, what were you planning on saying, or doing?

After stumbling over your words you two finally part ways and you slump down against your door, missing her presence already. You simultaneously wanted to jump around or open your bedside table drawer to release the energy you'd accumulated, and wanted to fall into the deepest sleep of your life to recuperate from the experience. This was just, a lot. You wanted to scream and screech like there's no tomorrow, but did not want to deal with noise complaints from the others living on your floor. Gosh she was so close, she shares your niche interest, your hands touched, albeit accidentally, lo and behold you were in love with her.

Maybe it was early to call it that, but you were going to plan out your future together. Preferably a quaint, peaceful farmhouse, the one you two lovebirds renovated together exactly how you envisioned, where you could ogle her doing the farmwork. Ugh. Cook all her favorite meals, make sweet, sweet love under the moonlight. Take strolls through the flower gardens you two planted, receive her curated bouquets as gifts, you two are going to have such a tender, domestic life. 

You had to mull it over some more, and didn’t dare wish to forget how close she was to you, you were still buzzing from her essence. You were pointlessly pacing around your room now, unable to stop looping the study session's events in your head. The simplicity, the eroticism of the encounter. One-sided or not, you had yet to find out more about her, the impatience was going to take over. The day almost seemed too good to be true, but for now you had to force yourself to relax and think about something other than her. Time to browse Pinterest with striking kitchen ideas for your beautiful future. 

What were you going to say to her the next time you see her? You were eager to know how, or if at all, this new friendship was going to progress. Part of you was dying of impatience, but the rest of you wanted to take it all as slow as possible, savoring every little moment and making the most of it. 

You sighed, this was going to be a long, long, year.

lovely taggies: @amiorca @mostlyhornyandsad @lasting-lover @radioheadfan699 @sophie-thefrog8 @machetegirl109 @ellieschair @aouiaa @wavesgocrash @tangerinngi @elliesbitchvenus @dinaissoprettyoml @rxreaqia @camicocom1a @elliesexual @ellslvr @boobdrug @writing-on-a-bathroom-stall @bready101 @yourelliewillms

.......really hoping this doesn't flop because it isn't smutty, yall wanted more fics that are plot soooo

[brownbearwrites]

cupid sent me on a mission (that's got me sitting, wishing, waiting)

mike schmidt x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI. soft smut, praise. no spoilers for the movie, no use of y/n.

word count: 617

read it on ao3 here.

It’s the sound of your door softly creaking open that first wakes you, your eyes groggily fluttering open. It’s still dark in your shared bedroom, so you hear more than you see Mike gently making his way in. Behind him, the bedroom door closes with a click. You let your eyes fall shut once again, hearing him strip down to his boxers before he slides into bed next to you. Your sleep-warmed body melts against his. You hum in appreciation as he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, the scruff of his beard tickling your skin.

“G’morning,” you whisper, unwilling to break the gentle softness of the moment.

You feel Mike’s steady breathing against the side of your neck, “Good morning, pretty girl,” he answers you in a voice equally soft.

His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close against him. He caresses the soft skin of your stomach where your shirt has ridden up, his fingers just barely brushing the waistband of your underwear.

“How was Abby last night?” he asks.

You gently smile at his concern for her, ever the responsible older brother. “She was an angel, didn't even throw a fit when I told her it was bedtime”.

You feel Mike's contented hum against your neck, his lips moving to press hot wet kisses over the stretch of skin. You sigh into it, moving your head off to the side to give him more space to work with.

“How did I get so lucky, huh?” he wonders aloud, “getting myself such a sweet, pretty girl like you to come home to every day”.

You begin to answer him, but your words catch in your throat when his hand dips past the elastic of your panties, his fingers trailing through the wiry hairs on your mound to settle on your clit. He begins rubbing soft, sleepy circles against it — just enough pressure to make your breath quicken. He continues to kiss the column of your neck, tongue licking and teeth scraping, to form bruises that you'll have to explain away later in the day.

You begin to move your hips in time with his touches, the slow movement making the springs in your bed creak ever so softly. His fingers dip lower, gathering some of your slick before returning to rub at your clit, the slide of his digits now even easier with the added wetness.

“Been thinkin' about this all night,” Mike confesses, “Couldn't stop thinking about how you feel pressed against me, about those pretty sounds you make”.

You shudder against him, his pace getting quicker now, his fingers rubbing against you almost desperately. A moan slips past your lips, muffled against your pillow. You feel his hardness press against your back, a steady reminder that he, too, is enjoying this. You press your hips closer against his, providing him with something solid to grind against.

“Always so good to me,” Mike moans into your skin.

His hips and fingers move in tandem against you, and before long you find the muscles in your lower stomach tightening, your legs clenching around the steady press of Mike's fingers against you. You let out a whine that — in any other circumstance — would have been embarrassing, and you find it answered by Mike's own soft moans. Your pleasure crests, your orgasm washing over you, leaving you a trembling mess in the safety of Mike's arms. You barely register Mike's choked groan and the following warm wetness that's suddenly leaking against your behind.

The room is still as dark as it had been when he first entered, though the silence is now broken by your shared heavy panting and soft satisfied laughter.

[heartfullofleeches]

I was reading through the Titus tag and came across the blurb of him with Nightlight reader and that made a crack nsfw idea come into my head

Nightlight twirling around happily with their new upgraded body gifted to them by none other than Titus himself: “Wow this new body is amazing!! The new decals are gorgeous and I feel like I can shine brighter than ever before!! I cannot wait to share all my new upgraded features with you! …Ah but I suppose.. I do have one questionr..”

Nightlight shyly pointing down to the new.. addition between their legs: “It seems you’ve decided to add some.. genitals onto my new body.. I don’t have the bodily functions that require genitals so.. what exactly are they for if I may ask…?”

Titus: … :)

[18+. Yan Space Emperor + Android Darling. Darling mentioned to have both a cock and a pussy]

"Titus.... I don't mean so sound ungrateful....but I don't see the point of all these...."upgrades" you added to my new body."

"If you ask me I'd say they're quite beneficial for us both. Haven't you ever wondered what it's like to experience things the same way beings of flesh and blood do?"

"I guess...I have another question.. Is it normal for these parts to be this wet all the time?"

"That's just the lubrication, dear. Nothing to fear. Shall I show you its use?"

Nightlight has some trouble getting used to there new body. All these new features are overwhelming for the poor bot - not to mention the sensations attached to them. The emperor's team worked tirelessly to accomplish everything on their overlord's list of requirements. Nightlight's new additions meant nothing to him if they couldn't feel what he was doing to them. As selfish as the tyrant can get, he longs to share the pleasures of the bedroom with the sweet little android he plucked from earth that has made his comfort their sole purpose.

Nightlight grows more accustomed to their new form when Titus drops hints that he sleeps best after a long night of passionate sex to drain his energy. He can tell they're a little nervous - it's a lot to take in. He slowly works them up to the idea of sleeping with him while also testing their functions to make sure everything is in order - fingering/jerking the android off while they're cuddled together, wearing clothing that by some miracle is more revealing than what he usually has on, messing with the sensitivity of their parts.

Titus put a lot of thought into what he wanted for Nightlight's updated body. A dial that controlled how sensitive they are to his touch was a must have. So was the option for their parts to be interchangeable. It makes for an easier clean when he stuffs their pussy full of his cum, but there are some days where he'd like to be the one coming undone on Nightlight's cock. Nightlight of course has their own say in which they use - but the bot is honestly just happy to be there. They do enjoy their new upgrades, but their favorite features has to be how flexible Titus' servents have made their new body. They can put their legs behind their head with no problem!

Titus loves that little feature as well. Maybe a little too much.

Couldn't find anywhere else to put it, but Titus totally demanded somewhere that Nightlight's lights get brighter/flicker when they cum.

[nocasdatsgay]

A Nest of Her Own

Pairing: Nesta/Eris | Word Count: 812 | Rating: T

Warnings: Omegaverse

Summary: Day One- Nesting. Eris has a surprise for Nesta. Still practically a new fae, she doesn’t know what to make of this… bed?

Read on Ao3 Here or Read Below| For @acotar-omegaverse-week

Tags: @mybestfriendmademe @hieragalbatorixdottir (I feel like I am missing someone if I am just comment and I will) Also Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

Nesta didn’t know what to expect when she was finally allowed into the room Eris had closed off for a ‘surprise’. She definitely didn’t expect what she was looking at. In front of her was a bed. Now she was wondering why Eris seemed so pleased with himself. Chest puffed out, the loose white shirt still stretching slightly as he watched her reaction. After a few more moments, she turned to him, arms crossed against her chest.

“It’s a bed.”

Eris seemed taken aback, the smug look on his face wiped away in an instant.

“It’s a nest,” he frowned. “Do you not like it?”

Nesta frowned in return. “It’s a bed. A comfortable one from the looks of it. Is this your way of telling me you don’t want me to share your room?”

Eris reached up, one arm still crossed against his chest, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Gods they didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

There were many things her sister and that court neglected to tell her when she became fae. She didn’t quite understand why Eris was so worked up over it. He knew her knowledge was limited and together they had worked to bridge that gap.

She added. “I cannot confirm what I don’t know if you don’t tell me what it is.”

He finally lowered his hand and sighed. Amber eyes met her gaze and thankfully didn’t look at her with pity.

“Your secondary sex is omega. You remember we discussed heats?” Nesta nodded, a flush coming onto her cheeks. She remembered that vividly. “That is what a nest is for. Mostly. It’s also just there for comfort when you get overwhelmed.”

She looked back at the bed- nest. It did look comfortable. Soft fur encompassed it; the perimeter raised as if it had a built- in pillows on top of the ones present. She recognized several blankets; all of them Eris’s. And his cloak. She stepped forward, leaning in to inspect the bed further when the smell hit her.

“Oh,” she sighed.

His smell flooded her senses. She picked up the cloak and buried her face in it. Every muscle in her body relaxed. She kicked off her shoes and climbed into the nest, his scent becoming stronger. She could bury her face in every inch of this bed- nest. In the back of her mind, she knew she should be embarrassed, rolling around like one of the hounds in mud, wrinkling her dress and ruining her hair. Yet she didn’t care; she’d never felt more safe.

“You like it?” His voice brought her back to herself. She looked up to see him standing by the nest, grinning.

“Why?” She couldn’t get out any other word.

She meant to say yes. But Eris knew her well enough now to know that. His grin didn’t falter.

“We are mated. My scent calms you down because I am your alpha. When you get your heat, this will make it easier.”

She hummed, pulling the cloak over her body. “Why are you just standing there?”

“It’s only polite to wait to be invited in,” he smiled down at her. “This is yours. I am just privileged to set it up for you.”

“So when you deny me a second dessert I can come here and you won’t bother me?”

He leaned forward, red hair falling off of his shoulder and dangling down near her face.

“As if I deny you anything.” His smirk sent a pleasant jolt through her stomach. “It’s usually you denying me.”

“Someone has to tell you no.” She replied sternly.

“Is this your way of telling me to leave?” He arched his brow.

She pretended to think about it for a moment. “I suppose you can join me.”

He climbed in and kissed her forehead as she moved over to allow him space.

“Will it always smell like you?” She asked scooting over once he settled.

“No. Most of the time pesky omegas steal things from their alphas to make their nest and keep it smelling like them. Instead of stealing, just ask me- I’ll give you whatever you want to put in here.”

“Like this shirt?” She ran her hand over his chest stopping at the top of his trousers.

“If you wanted me naked my love, you could have just said it.” His scent thickened, mingling with her own. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the tips of her fingers.

“You just made the bed.”

“It’s a nest.” He maneuvered over her and her breath quickened at the press of his want against her. “And it’s made to be ruined.” He gathered her skirt in one of his hands, tugging it up. “Shall we break it in?”

“You’re such a scoundrel,” she laughed, wiggling her hips against him.

He took that as a yes.

Part 2 | Part 3

[feedthefandomfest]

Comment Bingo (Original Edition)

Very simple rules: connect 5 squares in a line by completing the task in each square

Very simple goals: encourage readers to comment on fics; encourage fandom writers to KEEP WRITING

(reposted so a cleaned up version links back here rather than my main blog)

STEPS:

Download Bingo Card HERE (png) or HERE (jpg) or HERE (pdf)

Complete the tasks on the card, marking off each as you go, until you've completed 5 in a line (vertical, horizontal, or diagonal; NO double-dipping; kudos ♥️ is a free space)

POST your winning card (or list your filled squares) and tag @feedthefandomfest! Glory in your victory.

REWARD:

✨ victory badges ✨

Tag me when you earn a bingo (or double, triple, quadruple... FULL CARD bingo) and I'll reblog a shiny badge with your name on it to commemorate the win.

FAQ:

Can I comment on tumblr or only on AO3?

Either one is great! The tags are drawn from AO3, but most can be adjusted to suit tumblr as well, so I say go for it. Tumblr fics deserve love, too.

Can one comment count toward multiple squares if the fic fits more than one category?

Since the goal is for as many fics to receive comments as possible, try to comment on a different fic for each square.

Is there a time limit?

Nope! Take your time or set your own deadline, whatever works for you. This blog is still in its early experimental stage, so feedback welcome. Play around and let me know what you like and what might be added/changed—including ideas for squares on future cards!

Do I have to record progress on the actual card?

Nope! If it’s easier to keep track in a different way, that’s fine. This is all very honor system, so if you say you earned a Bingo, we’ll call it a win 🎉

Some people have been tracking not just completed tasks, but the fics they read along the way, so that when they post a bingo, they can also promote the fics/authors in a little rec list. Not required, but definitely cool to see!

Can I adjust the task in a particular square to suit my comfort level?

Of course! If you deliver something in the spirit of the task, then it’s all good. Use your best judgement in constructing a comment that will make the author smile, and you can consider it a job well done.

In general, so long as each square has produced at least one comment, you’re golden and I salute you 🫡

Happy commenting!!

[allfearstofallto]

Illusion

Yandere! Lyney x Fem,Dancer! Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: if this story seems similar to "I wonder if you look both ways..." It's cause this is the original. I scrapped it, but when reading it again I realized that I was very stupid to do that cause I like it. They're sisters, but not twins, they both can be enjoyed.

A magician's job is to lie. To convince you that there are wonders of the world that the human eye can't decipher. To entertain and entrance an audience of people, all while they stare in awe. Their eyes having a look of simultaneous confusion and scrutiny, they'd try to pick the trick apart, only to fail and be even more impressed by their inability to solve the puzzle. The job of a magician is to endure all of that inspection from prying eyes, but still make it look captivating.

Your job was to draw attention. That's what Lyney told you the day you were hired. They were set to perform at the opera house again, the biggest stage in Fontaine, but this time it would be an even more grand performance, this time, there would be no issues. With an area so large, they needed to maximize as much space as possible, there didn't need to be a moment of time where the audience had to question what was coming next. That's where you came in.

When the music came to a crescendo, cymbals crashing and violins singing at their loudest harmony, you'd be dancing, leaping all over. Graceful as a swan, but with enthusiasm that made your moves look more playful. Hopefully that would be enough to keep the eyes on you as Lyney rushed to the other side of the stage to complete the performance in an escalation.

You'd never done something like this before. Actually, you'd never danced professionally. Not yet at least. This would be your first real show. A fresh face right out of ballet school with nothing to your name, but a few school performances, none of which you were granted the leading role for. Who would give you a chance? Who else, but Lyney and Lynette who needed a dancer on rather short notice.

Lyney, who said your dancing was mesmerizing. But not in his usual, eccentric voice that would draw the crowd. He was talking quietly, in a breathless whisper as he spoke. Mesmerizing. His eyes glued onto your form as you panted after your audition, wide and entranced. You gave them a nervous bow and a heartfelt appreciation before exiting stage left. What you felt like was a mediocre performance where you messed up too much, was what landed you your first real gig.

Your choreo was simple, most of it you came up with yourself, with the twins giving minor input here and there. Raise your leg here, jump there, when you twirl, go in this direction. It was much easier than the strict, uptight teachings of school, where your instructors insisted that the real world would be harsher than they were. You weren't needed for a good majority of the performance, so nothing especially skillful was required until the very end.

“I'd like to see an addition to our set,” Lyney announced. His hands on his hips, he spoke proudly, but while sneaking quick glances towards you, “I feel like we're not utilizing our new resident dancer enough. I think we need to add a slight change to the choreography.”

There was no issue with this, they were your employers after all. You did your best to make it known to them that you were flexible in every aspect. It was their show. Anything they needed to be done, you'd do your best to accommodate.

The move the blond added was simple. As you stood on your toes on one foot, your other leg would be out straight behind you. Lyney would step forward to take your hand, then he would walk around you, turning you both in a slow circle while addressing the audience to prepare them for his next illusion. Like a ballerina trapped in a music box, you spun to the creeping swell of the music alongside him.

The addition was not even close to difficult, a move you'd done a million times before and would probably do a million more in the future. But this was the first time that you'd touched Lyney. The separation between you two gave you no reason to do so. His hands were cold, yet clammy and it was only when you were this close to him, that you noticed he smelled of plums. You could feel his heart beating in his fingertips and even see a little sweat on his forehead, you chalked it up to nerves though. Even those who have performed a thousand times before can fall victim to tension.

“Would you mind if I put my hand on your waist when we did that move,” he asked you one day between practices. He was hesitating, but still playing up his confident attitude.

A hand on your waist was nothing. You'd had to be close to other dancers plenty of times, and the turn did look a bit awkward with Lyney just having his hand at his side, but you thought that that would be the ample time for him to do a quick card trick or sleight of hands to spice things up, “That would be alright.”

The turn was practiced with the change. To you it felt no different, like an average day back at the academy. The real difference was Lyney himself. With that gentle hand on your waist, so soft it felt like he was hovering his hand over your body and not touching you at all. His cheeks had reddened, the first time you'd ever seen the great magician Lyney blush and you could feel him trembling, but just barely, like he was shivering from cold.

Eye contact with your partner is good when you're dancing a duet. It gives the appearance of chemistry, but eye contact with a crowd is mandatory when engaging with them. Despite this, for the entire duration of the turn, Lyney’s vibrant purple eyes would be locked with yours, not looking away for a second, not until the spin was complete and it was time for your solo.

Even you couldn't bring yourself to hold his gaze, not with the strange way he was smirking. Midway through the spin, when your back was facing the audience, you'd look down to not have to be staring at him anymore, a move that made him squeeze your hand to the point of causing pain. You held back a yelp to keep from causing a scene, it was an accident, it had to have been. He wasn't realizing his own strength.

When he let go, you began your energetic dance, twirling around the floor while music vibrated at your feet. You could hear the sound of Lyney's prop going off, the signal that the song would end in a triumphant climax and the show was over. You dropped from your ending pose and turned to see the remnants of the ending. Realization hitting you that the confetti had fired, but Lyney wasn't there.

Rather, he was still close to you, having only taken two steps back and seemingly frozen in place right there. Lyney had missed his cue. He was a perfectionist. Even though he knew things would and could go wrong, and he was a bit of a stickler when it came to things like this. It was the big moments, the parts where the audience would be in the most awe. With flashes, pops, and bangs to draw their attention, then he'd be there to take the brunt of the cheers. These moments were some of the most important.

The way he stood there behind you, eyes on you like you'd put a spell on him. Barely moving, barely blinking, like he was trying to drink in every piece for your form. He shook himself from this trance rather quickly, giving an embarrassed smile, “It appears that I've fallen for the distraction,” he laughed rather brazenly, “Well at least we know she's good at taking the attention! Let's take a break and start from the top again, yeah?”

There was a unanimous choir of groans that filled the room while Lyney chuckled. You were rather grateful for the break. You needed a moment to breathe and collect yourself. Most importantly, to think of what had just happened. The rational part of your brain wanted to tell you that you were overthinking, that Lyney wasn't acting strange at all, but the paranoid part of you couldn't help, but notice the way he stared. Not just when you were dancing, but whenever he got the chance to.

You'd look over and see bright purple eyes on you, seemingly unblinking. If you caught him in the act he'd give you a smile and a wave, making you feel as if you'd misunderstood. But that didn't stop the sinking feeling in your chest, he was acting normal, but intuition was telling you that something was off.

Almost as if he knew you were thinking of him, Lyney appeared. He stood a little too close to you, that gentle smile on his face. “Sorry for messing up back there,” he whined a little, then rested his head on your shoulder.

You flinched from his touch and tried to step away from him, but his arm snaked itself around your waist before you could. And Lyney was much much stronger than he looked. A nervous chuckle left your lips.

“It's alright, it's just practice after all,” you assured him.

“You're right,” he sighed. It felt like his hand was sinking, lowering to your hip while he continued the casual conversation, “I just want to impress you.”

Words got caught in your throat as you tried to choke up a response. What were you supposed to say? What could you say? A part of you wanted to brush this off as flirting, maybe you'd given him the wrong impression with something you'd said or done, but you couldn't even open your mouth to tell him otherwise.

“I have something for you,” Lyney gave a signature grin, lifting his hat from his head. Almost immediately a few cards fluttered down onto the floor around him while he gave them a confused, almost embarrassed stare, “Well that's not right,” he joked. He was performing. Right in front of you, Lyney was putting on a little show to charm you. Reaching into his pockets and pulling out much too large objects, only to magically put them back while cursing comically.

“There we go!” He cheered while holding a single rose that he'd managed to yank from his sleeve. He reached it out to you, waiting for you to grab it. The bud was surprisingly real, usually this trick was performed with fake flowers, the real ones would die too quickly. When you went to take it, he flicked the flower, making that singular rose turn into a bouquet. So close to the magic, but your mind couldn't decipher how he'd done it, even you were dumbfounded, “One isn't enough for you.”

You held the bouquet in awe as Lyney walked away proudly. He stepped backwards the whole time, not taking his eye off of you for a second until practice was set to start again, but this practice was different. He was finding more and more ways to sneak glances at you and more ways to brush up against and touch you.

The day of the performance was one that was considered nice in Fontaine. There was rain, but it was a light drizzle, light tears from the hydro dragon. It was believed that a good performance on this day would cheer him up.

And a good performance Lyney was set to give. You were backstage in a costume so tight it practically corrected your already good posture, and with so many sparkles, you were convinced that if the lights hit you the wrong way it'd blind the audience. He was most impressed with what he'd chosen for you to wear, stealing glances at you as you went through the choreo once more.

The lights felt hot. That's all you focus on as the show began. The acclaim of the crowd blended in with the vibrant music and the only thing you could think about were how hot the lights were. But you still performed. Your simple moves first. Light spins and little jumps, placeholders as Lyney and Lynette mesmerized the audience.

You did your best to keep up, they seemed to be performing even stronger now that there was focus on them. Your heart was pounding as the time came closer and closer to your solo, the idea of messing up suddenly grazed your mind. But before your solo, there was Lyney.

He stepped up to you, not looking away for a second. His chest was rising and falling rather quickly, he was tiring himself out, but his actions were still fluid. You reached your hand out for him to take and he did, just as you'd practiced.

Only this time before the turn began, he lifted your hand to his lips, placing a kiss against it. The urge to snatch your hand away was crushing. Confusion and fear filled your head. This wasn't a part of the show. This was never practiced before. Had something changed without being announced to you?

“Everyone! Thank you for coming tonight,” Lyney called to the audience followed by a round of applause for him, “The next trick will be my last and I'm so sorry to leave such a gorgeous crowd, but I want everyone to give a round of applause to my ma chérie! Thank her for being here as well!”

Your eyes danced around in confusion, trying to find who he was talking about as the crowd erupted into a symphony of cheers, only to realize that he was looking at you. To pour more salt into the wound and reiterate that he was talking about you, he lifted the hand he was holding, an action you could only let him do as bewilderment set in.

With those vibrant eyes still on you, he faced you, still smirking. He grabbed you by the waist then pulled you towards him, leaning down to place a kiss upon your lips. You couldn't hear anything over the cheers and screams of the audience, couldn't even hear your own heartbeat. But you felt it. Felt that heavy pounding as Lyney stroked your cheek in a romantic gesture before marching off to complete the set.

The music. As your head swirled and your eyes lost focus, you tried to pay attention to the music. It was time for your solo. You danced. Danced like hell, danced the choreo you created as the music swelled. But it wasn't really you dancing, more muscle memory than thought. And then it was over. Lyney appeared on the other side of the room, confetti was fired, and there was a standing ovation from the crowd. Everything was perfect.

Everything except your fearful face. The tears your eyes. Your look of worry as you looked back at your fellow members, then taking their bows as the curtain fell. They seemed so normal about what happened.

“What the hell was that?” You managed to ask, but instead you were only met with confused looks.

“What ever could you mean, ma chérie?” Lyney had taken your hand, but you pulled it back quickly, the watchful eyes of the audience no longer swaying you.

“This!” You gasped. You felt crazy trying to motion to everything around you, everything that was wrong, “All of this! You kissed me out there!”

“What's the problem with that?” It was Lynette talking now, her usual calm demeanor not seeming to be perturbed by your hysteria, “A kiss was always in the script.”

You gulped down saliva, trying to stop your beating heart and shallow breathing. Everyone was so calm and collected. Yet here you were, confused and practically causing a scene.

“Are you alright, ma chérie,” Lyney asked, stroking your cheek again. There was a look of genuine worry on his face, but all you could think about was that name. That fucking name. Has he always called you that? “You seem rather upset? What bothers you?”

“None of this is making sense,” you muttered. But you weren't really talking to him, more trying to calm yourself. Being surrounded by people who insisted upon lying to you was making doubt swirl in your mind. Had you misunderstood something? Were you truly the one confused? In your heart of hearts, you knew the truth, yet here you were, still being told otherwise.

Around you everyone was doing as normal. The stage hands had already begun packing up, with you standing there dumbfounded. You're sure you would've stood there until the end of time, had Lyney not taken your hand and begun to pull you out of the opera house.

The air of fontaine still had that salty smell to it, but the light drizzle had stopped. Your performance had pleased the hydro dragon, you supposed, yet you now were the one with tears in your eyes.

“I was thinking, ma chérie, how about you join our troupe permanently,” Lyney’s voice sounded like he was underwater in your ears, yet you somehow understood him perfectly. His question was just giving you the illusion of choice as you knew the answer he was going to make you take. A magician’s job is to lie, after all.