#i am very tired which makes me mean and petty oops

[thegracefulwillow]

a) interesting implication that pseudonyms are basically fake people rather than fake names?

b) I get the point but. people knew George Eliot was a woman during her lifetime and during her career as a writer. She was taken seriously as a woman writer

like yes, literary history is full of women who were not acknowledged or who hid their gender to write or whatever but i'm sure we have better examples for that than george eliot??

[chimielie]

ghost in the machine

summary: Matsukawa x F!Reader. sometimes two people love each other very much. sometimes they do terrible things to each other.

word count: 1k

cw: cheating, extremely toxic relationship, no one here is likable, breakup, no happy ending

a/n: my bad i was going through something. sorry to the seijoh community. enjoy?

Issei meets you at the train station. It's dry now, but it was raining earlier—his hair is sticking to his face, curling even more than usual in the humidity. He doesn't "believe" in using umbrellas, whatever that means, or in standing beneath the rain shelter, apparently.

"Hey," you say, affecting nonchalance. The look on his face is familiar to you, signalling further storms ahead. You put your hands in his and press your mouth into a little frown. "What's wrong?

"Don't act cute," he says, glancing away, but he doesn't take his hands out of your hold. "This is—hard enough."

Issei does this thing, when he's mad at you, taking longer and longer pauses as he speaks. Leaves you hanging and still chooses all the wrong words.

"Issei, what happened?" You say. You look around, but there's no one else at the station: it's a dismal day, and his workplace is out of the way of pretty much all other human life. Fitting.

He rubs a thumb over yours, slow, pensive.

"I'm just gonna rip the band-aid off," he says, and you almost snort. There's been nothing quick about this process. "I think we should stop seeing each other."

"Another break?" You ask, trying to keep your voice light. "So you can fuck your new building receptionist?"

That's not light. Oops.

"How do you—whatever. No. That's not it. Don't be like that."

"It's what it was last time," you say, frustrated. "And Makki mentioned that he thought she was hot, which means you think she is."

"I don't, and that's not even the point," he sighs. "See, this is what I mean."

"You do," you insist. "But what is your point?"

"My point," he grits, thumb rubbing harder, strong fingers digging into your flesh so hard it almost hurts. "Is that we need to end this. Not a break. We need to break up."

"No," you say, blinking away tears. "I thought we were working on things. I thought we were better."

He pauses again. You let yourself fill up with big, stupid hope, leaning a little closer to him. All you want is one of his hugs, warm and solid and loving. Love me, you want to sob, you don't love me?

You don't, because you would be proving his point. You don't want to guilt him. You don't want to hurt him. You feel nauseous. The whole world is wrong, everything is going wrong.

He doesn’t give you what you need.

"I feel sick," he echoes your thoughts. "All the time. What we're doing to each other—I care about you, I want you to be happy. We—I don't make you happy."

"You do," you plead. "No one else makes me happy like you."

"But that's, like, five percent of the time," he says, jerking you a little closer. You know it's subconscious and it makes you emit a little noise, soft, one you don't want him to hear. "The rest of the time we, we fight, and we get petty, and we act like kids. It's not what it should be."

"I don't care what it should be," you flash. "I don't want whatever it should be. I want this. I think it's worth it. I want to fight for it."

"Well, I don't!" His eyes are burning. You think there's something shimmering in his waterline. "I'm tired. It's—you jerk me around like bait, on a string. I am tired of taking breaks, and getting back at each other, and—"

"I jerk you around?" You say. "Issei, you suggested the first break, you slept with—"

"I know what I did," his voice sounds defeated even as you can hear the underlying anger—deeper, the underlying hurt. "That's what I'm saying, we're damaged, I really don't care whose fault it is."

"Except you clearly think it's mine," you argue. It’s fucked up, that this is what fighting for your love means; how twisted has your knight-and-princess story become?

“Shut up! Just stop—just stop talking for a second.” You press your fingers tentatively to the right corner of his temple and rub small circles into the skin, knowing that’s where he gets headaches from grinding his jaw when you’re driving him crazy. He lets you for a moment, then shakes his head, bats you away. “You shouldn’t let me talk to you like that.”

“I won’t,” you say. “You won’t talk to me like that anymore.”

“That’s so fucked up,” he chokes out a laugh. His dark eyes crease so prettily when he does. “Don’t do that. With the next guy—”

“There’s no next guy!” You yelp, fingers flexing, not sure what to hold on to. If he’s letting go of his jealousy—the world tilts dizzily. He used to tell you, face in a lazy cat smile, body warm and heavy atop yours, that you’d find your next boyfriends on his mortuary table. “What, Issei, there’s not gonna be anyone else ever.”

His lips twist into a sardonic smile. He lets go of you, his hands shaking like he’s just been shocked, cartoon-style, electricity working its way through his body. You reach for him and he shoves his hands in his pockets, lets you stumble over your feet.

“I know you slept with Makki,” Issei says grimly. You stop in your tracks.

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he agreed. “Yeah.”

There���s not a lot to say to that. It doesn’t matter that it was during the worst breakup, a year ago, that it was because you’d seen him kissing one of your friends at a party. It doesn’t matter that it had been a mistake.

“I’m sorry,” you say, and the tears are rolling down your face again. Or it’s started raining. Both. “I’m so sorry. I know.”

There’s an awful screech when the train arrives—his train, going deeper into the country. Yours, back to the city, is due in eight minutes. You can’t stop anything from leaving this station.

“It’s okay. It’s like you said,” he puts his hands on his shoulders, presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips wet with cold rainwater. When did it start pouring? “He thought she was hot, so so did I. I love you, so so did he.”

[fictionfixations]

Kalim in RSA (and I get off-topic)

Spoilers for Book 4 and 5 (im sorry jamil enjoyers. but im so biased towards kalim its not even funny)

(this spiraled into me talking all about kalim in the actual game so oops)

imagine how different the story would be if kalim was in RSA

and we just hear from jamil about these snippets about his 'master' (although itd be weird they'd be separated if jamil tended to him often to where he'd prob be like his personal servant? idk what situation would have jamil talk to us anyway but yknow maybe we get close, he's like the other friend who seems cool? he'll basically help us out with knowledge about things, fleshing out the world a bit more, as the only sophomore in the group cause he kind of feels responsible maybe? then BETRAYAL)

and then eventually partway through the school year KALIM IS THERE (we know why though) and he somehow ends up housewarden.

i have a dislike against RSA. its very petty and its kind of because they keep winning (and they dont even mean ill intent which is worse! …but its kind of like kalims kindness. and i like kalim but that might make me biased. SO. thus the existence of this.)

we probably wouldnt like him much right? (and i imagine he'd get his fair share of bullies. we find this out. he laughs it off like 'nah, im used to attempted assassinations and everything. this isnt nearly as bad.')

(id do the clapping between but ppl get annoyed, and i get annoyed) CUE KALIM BEING MORE THAN SMILES AND WE LEARN THAT ABOUT HIM !!

HES aware enough that he can cook food good using JUST magic (which takes precision to use it as good or even better than your hands right??. its in his labwear vignette. ruggies teaching him ofc so ruggie wants it to be good cause hes taking leftovers, BUT CMOONNN he can learn. ..and yeah it took a few years for jamil to teach kalim antidotes to common poisons so he could do it easy but kalims hardly a master at making potions so i call that good)

AND in book 5 he noticed vil had like the same look as jamil to where he knew something was going to go wrong (aka the poisoning)

maybe its to show how much kalim doesnt belong in NRC and thats why they dont pull the 'more than he looks at first glance' like cater with glimpses in vignettes and etc

but like COME ON.

the sultan might be dumb (i recently re-watched aladdin) but at least he knew enough that he didnt want jafar marrying his daughter cause hes OLD and also he doesnt want to force jasmine into anything (good intentions. im sure if they just waited and she didnt find a suitor in time he would've just CHANGED THE LAW like he did IN THE MOVIE because he wants her to be happy!)

ALSo he tried to look through the law jafar claimed to say that would make her have to be married to the vizier or whatever (aka jafar) but then jafar just pulled it away before he could (and then attempted to mind control him when he refused) mans was prepared to spend hours reading over it even if he didnt understand it but he wasnt given the chance

also kalim is worryingly nonchalant about stuff. i mean. you can get used to horrible things to where they just feel so normal and uninmportant i guess? but poor bby. hes been like 'i want to keep myself alive because if i die then someone else will get punished.' or like about poisoning, if someone has a change of mind and hes already dead, then he cant do something to help them, so he has to make sure he'll live.

..i really doubt that hes just. so oblivious. maybe in denial, but still.

anyway i got very off topic. my bad. and to be fair we do get to see more of him at some parts. but hhh

okay listen. denial. (i am also a believer that if when kalim confronted jamil, if he said he didnt do anything kalim wouldve believed him. bruh gave him excuses like '..i just got tired, right?')

"The real Jamil would never do such things! He's a good guy. He's always helping me, giving me a shoulder to lean on, and—" (Book 4 • Chapter 33)

we just. dont see him really crumble?? he just. keeps being optimistic

we convince him jamil is bad. he resolves to punch him for being a traitor and THATS IT?

he sobs at the end of jamils overblot but then he goes back to being optimistic like 'lets be equals!' (..it feels like he didnt really learn much though as he's still 'I didn't notice--' 'I--' and i wish he couldve gotten more awareness. cause he makes it about himself yknow and blaming himself but COME ON put some blame on jamil PLEASE? or like. ANYONE ELSE. you also cant notice shit if no one ever tells you about it that you dont even know to look for it! he doesnt want to be cautious about who he can trust so like, why would he think to doubt the person who hes known his entire life??? especially if its something that was just always there that it feels natural, how could he know better? hes sheltered! so someone shouldve explained it to him, made him realize things! aghhh)

heres the book 5 one btw

"I got a real bad feeling when I saw the look on your face after Neige's rehearsal. It was practically the same look I saw on Jamil's face when he lost control of himself over holiday break." (Book 5 • Chapter 62)

And I mean maybe he did learn in that he's more aware of this now than others because he knows what people could look like because of Jamil, but I feel like a lot of things were just so unsaid. That the first time blindsided him, but now he's kind of a little more worried about something happening while he's there that he didn't notice so now he's trying to notice things more??? Or like maybe having gut feelings that he'd ignored before because it was Jamil but now knowing better?

So he can be aware. but then the rest of the time he's just thought of as dumb or an idiot or forgetful and it just makes me sad. and i mean i get that he wants to see the best in people but we never really talk about how its more that its denial. a refusal to see it, and i want to understand why

or maybe its because he sees the good in people that he trusts they'll do the right thing. or he believes that the good outweigh the bad (although i dont know if it'd be the same case if it was someone he knew who got hurt)

like. okay back in book 5

"Besides, I would bet there isn't a single person in Scarabia who hasn't gotten help from Jamil at some point. Am I right?"

"See? There you go. He's been a model vice housewarden. In fact, he's put me to shame. He let dark thoughts get the better of him for a brief time. Other than that, he's a perfectly capable guy." (Book 5 • Chapter 10)

He justifies it with that Jamil isn't the only one to blame (he also blames himself), and that Jamil hadn't done anything wrong before then

which. AGAIn. means that in his eyes the good outweigh the bad. jamils better at his duties so jamil should stay as vice housewarden.

this was the first time jamil did anything bad so it'd be fine, it was just an error in judgment

AGHHh

nothing about the fact that his closest friend he views as a brother

"He's grown up with Jamil since a young age, and considers him a brother in all but blood." (from the In-game Album)

who would be the last person he'd expect to do such a thing BETRAYS HIM, planning to make everyone (or well just the people in scarabia) turn against him

like. that has to be a shock right??? AND THEN HE JUST. welcomes him back into his life like it was nothing im just. kALIM. SWEETIE.

and i mean i get its for the best since if anyone knew what actually happened anything could happen to jamil (and jamil has his own reasons i get that but this is about kalim)

but he still hangs around him. has him as his aide. so while something did change, it also feels like nothing changed at the same time.

"I'm always chosen. Always. That's such an obvious truth that I never even consciously processed it. But now I see that was only possible because of Jamil's constant sacrifices. He created that "truth" in my mind by always holding back. By always letting me win. ...It stings. "Galling" doesn't even begin to describe it." (Book 5 • Chapter 30)

also like one of the very few times he expresses how he feels about something (how it hurts not to be chosen for the first time, and/or that he was only chosen because of someone else so he wants to work hard)

and then grim shuts him down with "You wanna talk about galling? Imagine how I feel not even makin' the cut for the audition to start with."

like. COME ON.

Kalim responds with, "Ah, you're right. My bad! I didn't mean to rub it in. Goodness, there I go again! I'm super sorry, honest."

and yeah it can seem kind of spoiled but also. its probably because of that that he doesnt want to share his troubles because he's very privileged so it feels like he might not deserve to act like its anything when everyone else has to work so much harder, right?

AND ITS JUST. REAFFIRMING TO HIM THAT his troubles are nothing compared to anyone elses and im just aghhauihduadhw

he also cares a lot about other people (people like him as housewarden because he listens to their troubles and supports them) so i just. want him to be able to take a moment to care about himself and just admit these things that he usually doesnt get the chance to.

i got a lot more worked up than i meant to

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

hi! hope you're having a great day. just dropping in to say I absolutely love your writings.

prompt request: 15 from 300 followers appreciation post.

have a great day. absolutely love your work <3

Thank you so much anon. Ngl since the moment I put out this list, I had been most excited to write this one out and I don't know how this one turned out.

Just petty things

Dialogue prompt- 15. You couldn't handle me even if I came with instructions | Fluff ( ig) | ENEMIES TO LOVERS |

"oh yeah, watch me malfoy " harry sneered taking the bottle of expensive champagne and pouring it down the drain with draco watching him with horror Struck upon his face

" oh, oops. Hope the bottle doesn't empties- oh wait- it already is empty " harry shook the bottle over draco's face in mockery

" you moron. It was fine champagne imported from France. Do you even know how much it costed ?" draco sneered at harry grabbing his wrists harshly

" what you gonna do about it? Ruin my food ? No wait, you actually already did that " Harry raised his eyebrows grinning viciously

Draco scowled at harry angrily before he jerked away Harry's hand's away.

" ruin my food one more time and I'll throw you out " harry threatened

Draco clenched his jaw angrily murdering harry inside his head..

" you wait and watch " draco challenged harry before he storming back to his room.

" oh yeah. I am sure I can handle you " harry yelled.

Draco turned around dramatically, his face red from all the anger " you couldn't handle me even if I came with instructions " he yelled and slammed his bedroom door shut.

Harry too stormed away in his room slamming the door after him, angrily. Bless those door hinges.

Despite the rivarly dying out ages ago and the reconciliation followed after that, they still annoyed the living death out of each other with petty fights almost everyday. Originally the apartment is Harry's but after Blaise had came to live with him, it partially became his until the moment Blaise wanted to settle down and move in with his girlfriend. So being the nice flatmate he was he got harry an anonymous partner who by claims had been extremely nice, organised, clean and a great friend. Of course Blaise didn't mention " also your childhood enemy " or he necessarily didn't. Either way it didn't work out of course but since the rent act started stirring up in the public, it became Incredibly hard for draco to find another apartment and now here they were, 2 months in living together, messing each other's daily life and petty fighting.

" I'm telling you Blaise, he drive's me nuts " harry groaned as he pointed at Draco.

" oh I drive you nuts, excuse me, you drained my entire fucking bottle of champagne, of course I'll drive you nuts " draco narrowed his eyes at harry.

" you Drained his bottle of champagne ?" Blaise asked harry with an amused reaction sitting on the centre couch.

" well- he- he cut all my avocados, scooped out the insides of it and left the seed and not only that, he added Scotch to my lasagna " harry accusing-ly pointed his finger at draco.

" you did that ?" Blaise laughed looking at Draco

" Blaiseee " harry sternly voiced

" oh, no you're Right. Of course, you shouldn't had done that no matter how good it actually was,you shouldn't had. You know he loves avocados " Blaise nodded.

" but-"

" no really draco. I mean it. He's very serious about his food, even when I lived with him " Blaise added

" I need him out of here " harry added

" what ? You can't do that-"

" I can, if you're forgetting this apartment is originally mine " harry interjected draco.

" okay, whoa whoa, calm down. Nobody's getting thrown out alright. Just take a deep breath and we'll talk about this- well your differences alright "

" you know it's all your fault. You should've never bought a flatmate without asking me "

" me? I thought I was helping you out " Blaise defended himself

" well clearly not " harry shook his eyes head with wide eyes, crossing his arms over his front.

Blaise huffed a breath gulping down the rest of his coffee and turned to draco.

" you want to move out ?"

" what- no. I mean yes I don't want to live with him but I don't want move out " draco replied furrowing his eyebrows.

" see, Harry, he doesn't want to move out-"

" he's doesn't want to live with me Blaise. Clearly we're on the same side " harry faked a smile at draco.

Blaise looked up at the ceiling in annoyance before he got up from the couch to make his point " do you both realise you're adult's. Because it seems otherwise. I'm tired of listening to your petty fights and the pranks and the revenge. Why can't you two just like normal civil people? I thought you both had reconciled "

" look I know it's hard for both of you but you guys are the most incredible flatmates I've ever had alright and I know you two are better than this. So please, just please starting acting like you're actually 22 and if you can't be around each other then just- just ignore another alright. Don't talk " Blaise raised his eyebrows waiting for a reply before harry did

" I can work with not talking " harry mumbled.

" I'm good at ignoring " draco mumbled too.

" see, now that's the spirit. Now I have to go,I have a lunch with Sophie's parents, can I trust the two of you to not get involved into another fight ?" Blaise asked with raised eyebrows.

" good " he huffed when neither replied and took his jacket and decided to walk out with harry and draco following after him.

" just " he breathed " be nice to each other alright. You don't even have to talk "

" we can handle ourselves. We're not kids " draco rolled his eyes

Blaise opened his mouth to say something but shut it right off and gave draco a firm smile and left, with almost zero hope that it worked out.

Well it only worked partially. They ignored each other of course but still couldn't bear the thought of the other, which was somehow a progress and Blaise was rather proud because for the first time in 2 months they didn't wanted to kill each other.

Or so he thought thing's were better until a week later when Draco found harry making out with someone on the couch in the living room. Well he was decent enough not to shout till the date left.

" I sleep on that couch sometimes " draco disgustingly said as a shiver ran down his spine.

" well that's your problem. You have perfect bedroom for sleeping " harry rolled his eyes opening the water bottle and drinking from it..

" I don't care, the couch is off limits " draco snapped

"you don't tell me what is off limits and what's not-"

" i sure can. This is as much as of an apartment as much as its your " draco threw at harry.

" well this is my house, I can kiss anyone I want, wherever I want and whenever I want and you cannot boss me " harry Snapped back stepping closer to draco to make his glaring more threatening.

Draco flared as he stepped closer " you can not "

" yes I can " harry titled his head

" you cannot " draco widened his eyes

" what you gonna do about it ?" Harry egged him on.

Draco breathed sharply before he stepped back throwing his hands in the air " I can't believe you. You think this, everything is yours. Why am I be surprised though, it has Always been yours , hasn't it. Oh I'm harry potter, the world is all mine, I am praised everywhere I go with posters still upon the wall with my huge fanbase and everybody gushing over me. I'm so great, I'm brilliant. Maybe I should get a pedestal to stand on, oh wait I already built myself one " draco shouted

Harry crushed the bottle in his hand before he jerked forward grabbing draco by his collar " you- fucking- asshole. You take that back "

" oh I'm sorry did that hurt you? I won't take it back, you wanna punch me for that " draco asked raised his eyebrows, his hands steady by his sides

" you do not fucking know anything about my life. I'm giving you a warning to shut up-"

" or what? You're gonna punch me, as if you have the guts " draco sneered

" don't tempt me malfoy-"

" oh, I am scared. Save it potter. You can never punch me " draco narrowed his eyes at harry

Harry heaved heavily as he grabbed onto draco's collar tighter but didn't make a move to actually punch him, though his anger was getting out of control.

" you know what, you were better before I got you out of prison. Should've left you there to die " harry didn't mean to say it out loud but he did and it took him exactly a second to realise what had he done and regret immediately flooded in him as he saw draco's lip twitch and the look of pain crossing his features.

" you're right. You should've left me there to die " draco Snapped before he jerked away from harry easily as he had loosened his grip and stormed out of the apartment taking his coat with him.

Harry huffed in annoyance, rubbing his hand over his face, swearing in himself and kicking the chair nearby in guilt and anger.

Despite living in the same apartment, harry didn't see draco at all for at least a week or more until harry was returning very late from work and wanted to silently sneak in after having thought the entire way back home how to makeup to draco when he realised he didn't had to when he saw draco sitting in the balcony with all the door's open..

" you could've at least shut the door. The entrie apartment will be cold now " harry cautiously said as he approached draco and Stood by the door.

Draco sniffed Before he mumbled a soft Apology and within a second harry realised something was wrong and went into the balcony where draco was now standing.

" hey, you alright ?" Harry asked as he carefully placed his palm over Harry's shoulder

" yeah- just something at work " draco mumbled turning away from harry.

" hey hey hey, it's alright, you can talk to me if you want"

" yeah like you'd want to listen " draco scoffed dabbing his face with a tissue.

" of couse I will. Why wouldn't I ?" Harry asked frowning.

" why would you ?" Draco questioned back

" well- i- because I do care and there shouldn't be a reason why not to " harry raised his shoulder before dropping again.

Draco looked at him for a moment before he looked away, chewing the insides of his cheeks.

" you don't have to. I understand. I just want you to know I'm here " harry said softly tilting his head so he knew Draco saw him through the corner of his eyes.

Harry Stood with him for a few minutes in silence until he understood that perhaps he wanted to be alone and decided to step back inside.

" I lied "

" what do you mean you lied ?" Harry asked as he turned around and stood next to draco again with his hands on the railings, watching him..

" I lied about what upset me. It's not my work. It's my parents " draco side glancing at harry.

" oh " harry Only replied

" they sent me a letter that they took down my name from the final will. So I'm well not going to get the manor "

" so you were crying because you don't get the manor ?" Harry pursed his lips to control the little laugh wanting to escape his lips.

Draco shook his head, in " I can't believe I even tried " and he stepped off the balcony to go back inside

" I'm kidding, obviously " harry stopped him, holding out his wrist from going.

" just trying to lighten your mood " harry shrugged. Draco looked at him nonchalantly for a moment before breathing out and standing next to harry again.

"so they took your name off the will ? What else ?" Harry asked as he leaned on the railing watching draco.

" it's-" he breathed " it's not about the manor or any other thing. I stopped caring about that a long time ago, it's just, after all this time I thought they'd accept me. And-" he bit the inside of his lip, closing his eyes " they still don't "

Harry's gaze softened and he spoke up " they probably never will and you'll have to live with it even if it's hard "

" I know but it's just- their acceptance matters the most to me even if I don't say it out loud but It hurts sometimes knowing that I can't stop caring. First they abandoned me, then disowned me from the joint account at gringotts, sold the cottage house under my name and the last thing I had left- they took my name off that. It's like they're doing everything possible to make it believable that I- I just- never existed , like simply erasing it " draco's eyes sparkled with tears and harry watched as draco tore down his walls unknowingly and only then harry approached a simple physical touch of holding his hand over the railing.

" your existence is with you draco. They're all just papers. Your life or your name or anything about you isn't decided by a piece of paper. Hell I'm the hottest bisexual in Britain by the witch weekly and I can bet my ass that I've seen hotter but it's just a paper "

Draco chuckled and harry gave him a smile.

" I know it upsets you and I understand what losing a family is like but you can always create your own family " harry contagiously smiled

" I'm gay potter " draco rolled his eyes with a smile.

" not the actual reproduced family. I mean your friends, they can be your family. It's time you choose your family, who doesn't take away a manor from you "

Draco smiled softly " but it still hurts"

Harry stepped closer to him looking him in the eye " it always will, but one day you're going to look at the whole thing and be like I still have a family and much better one infact"

" you really think so ?" Draco asked

" I know so " harry whispered smiling.

They stared at each other long enough until they realised how close they had been standing in that small balcony and harry cleared his throat to break the moment of unusual staring.

" you wanna stay out here for a while. I'll grab the blankets?" He asked

Draco opened his mouth to deny but instead he nodded with a smile and harry quickly went in to fetch the blankets and pillows with something to eat and joined draco back in the balcony..

" wait, you just came back from work, aren't you tired ?" Draco finally asked

Harry shook his head shrugging " I'm good " and they settled into the area with his back supported on the glass, sitting close enough..

" you're not always an asshole then " draco teased as they opened the packet of chips and sipped some butter beer..

Harry chuckled " well yeah " and he took some chips from the packet.

After moments of eating in silence draco finally turned to harry again and mumbled a small thanks.

" you don't have to thank me" harry replied looking back at Draco and keeping his gaze still at him.

" listen I'm sorry about the other day. I was just angry and you sort of boiled me a little and it just-"

" it's alright. I forgive you " draco gave harry a tender side smile and harry smiled back equally tender.

" can I kiss you ?" Draco asked after having stared at each other long enough to know that kissing was what was left.

" do you really want to ?" Harry asked looking at Draco's lips wanting to do the same.

" yes " draco mumbled as he leaned closer to harry.

" this changes everything draco" harry whispered when they were Only an inch apart, breathing in small breaths..

" I know. I want to " draco mumbled..

Harry bought his hands to draco's face, stroking his cheeks " are you absolutely sure ? I don't want you to regret this next morning "

" will you ?" Draco asked looking in Harry's eyes as a confirmation.

" I won't " harry replied as his heart beat More loudly.

" I won't either " draco mumbled and before Harry could've further asked anything else, he kissed him over the lips, sweet and slow at first then escalating to it becoming a need, leaving them both panting.

" you really are sure ?" Harry panted as they separated for air..

Draco rolled his eyes straddling harry, cupping his face " you ask me one more time and I'll make you question your entire life harry" and he kissed harry again tugging at his hair as harry encircled his arms around Draco's Waist pulling him closer, leaning his head upwards to kiss him more thoroughly..

And they remained there as Long as the night was still young, kissing each other, panting each other's breath, fighting for air, for Dominance and moaning. Just there, in the moment.

I understand I didn't necessarily made harry and draco already having feelings for each other but it seemed nice for a change to go with their flow.

(I don't know if literally anyone notices but my writing style varies a lot, personally not liking recently what I've been writing tho )

300 followers appreciation dialogue Prompt requests open

Angst prompt requests open

[qqueenofhades]

hilary listen the old guards slayed me. I mean the plot the pacing the writing the acting?? the diversity that didn’t feel like lip service? tHAT ENDING??? Charlize Theron also knocked it out off the park. like the bone weary fatigue that comes with seeing too much and for too long could’ve been played as that snarky cynical and jaded god. but she dIDNT. and it was such an impactful and nuanced performance. Agh I’m running out of characters gdi moving over to another ask (1/2)

ALSO BOOKER. I fucking love when they make a characters actions reasonable. like the man is clearly depressed. he’s tired and he wants some sort of agency back in the face of devastating loss over and over again. like waiting for your friends to heal themselves each time they die?? my god that amount of stress has to get to you at some point. which also lends to this self-awareness and surety among all of the characters (especially Nicky omg Nicky you beautiful cinnamon roll). GDI no space (2/3) 

RIGHT. Nicky! what a compassionate but ruthlessly efficient solider (also that part near the end where he puts the gun over his shoulder for joe to take was kinda hot ngl). the juxtaposition is so interesting and compelling and we see it throughout the movie with all of the characters too. even their relationship as a team. it’s odd because they’re really professional with each other but still choose to be a family from the get go. it’s even more profound when you think about it (NO SPACE Y) 3/4 

because that’s the one thing they truly have a choice over. they’re going to see these 4 people for the rest of their long longgg lives and they can very easily say no. I’ll find others and lose them but I refuse to be forced to get stuck with you instead of someone else. they don’t though and such props to the writer who didn’t go down that traditional path of conflict. aggghh I could on about how andy didn’t die either but I’m running out of space Again and have spammed you enough lolollll 

LOOK.

It was as if ye olde Netflix Powers Thatte Be said “look we know 2020 has been a flaming hellpit dumpster of Why God Why, so we’re gonna give the gays everything they want”

There was world-weary ancient Greek warrior short-haired lesbian Charlize Theron (that scene with the hot French pharmacy lady tenderly patching up her shoulder in the bathroom and the obvious sexual tension was SO UNNECESSARY BUT ALSO COMPLETELY NECESSARY GOD BLESS THE FILMMAKERS!) She has lost her equally hot and badass wife and there was Angst and Feelings and now we have Drama with said wife returning from the sea floor and I don’t know what’s gonna happen but my body is ready and I need the sequel immediately.

There were Joe and Nicky, the most beautiful devoted interracial/interreligious mlm immortal husbands who are still completely gaga for each other after hundreds of years, there are absolutely no gay “jokes” or even any calling attention to their status, they whup ass and they make out in front of stormtroopers because why not get you a man who can do both. We have already discussed the fact that I am Deep down the rabbit hole for them.

There was Nile (NILE! I WOULD DIE FOR YOU!) the most PRECIOUS immortal bean, who is a Black woman who literally cannot be shot down, who takes the hits from the military (DON’T THINK I DID NOT NOTICE THAT THE US ARMY WAS ALSO GOING TO PUT HER IN A CAGE/INSTITUTION ONCE THEY FOUND OUT ABOUT HER) and from the white supremacist violence but GETS BACK UP EVERY TIME BECAUSE THEY CANNOT STOP HER WITH THEIR USUAL MINDLESS STATE SPONSORED MACHINE GUNS. She gets to rescue the whole team like a BADASS and go into the lab with the action-hero angles almost ALWAYS received by the Hard Bitten White Man, she gets to tackle the main villain off the top of a goddamn skyscraper and walk away from it while he’s dead, she is nonetheless Sweet and Vulnerable and in need of Protection so she gets to be BOTH the damsel in distress and the hero and I just... I have a lot of feelings about Nile okay.

Even the Hard Bitten White Man we did get, i.e. Booker, is the guy who makes painful choices and is driven by the pain of having to watch his children die and yet also still displays emotions and cares for his other family and awfully regrets what he did to hurt them (and when he realizes Andy’s not healing he PANICS) and now he’s met Quynh and oh the dramaaaa.

I VERY MUCH NOTICED THE CIA AND BIG PHARMA/AN INSUFFERABLE KNOW IT ALL RICH BRITISH WHITE MAN BEING THE VILLAINS UNDER CLAIMING TO DO “GOOD.” THANK YOU. (And good on you Chiwetel Ejiofor, I knew you wouldn’t let Dudley Dursley actually get away with it)

THE ADVENTURES ACROSS HISTORY TO BE! GOOD! PEOPLE! NOT GRIMDARK POINTLESS ANNIHILATION! THEIR HEROISM MEANS SOMETHING IN THE END!!!

THE FOUND FAMILY OF IT ALL. As you note, they completely avoided the “oh no they all hate each other and snipe over petty things and try to kill each other” and went “nope they are a family and they watch football together in their loud church in France where they like to live and all sleep in the same bedroom” LIKE UP YOURS MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE oops

And Andy DIDN’T die and is gonna see her wife again and now has to reckon with that and has to figure out how to fight when she’s no longer completely invulnerable and has to mentor Nile and figure out how to be part of the team in a different way and and and

(I CAN’T BELIEVE I ORIGINALLY FORGOT TO MENTION IT WAS DIRECTED BY A BLACK WOMAN AND A LOT OF WOMEN WORKED ON IT)

/breathes deeply

Anyway I liked it a normal amount.

[yoddream]

the devil to my angel | h.rj

because there’s literally no gif that fits better than this one

pairing: devil!renjun x fem!reader

warnings: uh swearing, pettiness, angst, fluff, drinking, underage drinking (looking at you string bean), honestly I don’t remember anything else i’m sorry

word count: 6k

summary: you’ve seen the cartoons. you’ve also seen your own devil that lived on your shoulder.

a/n: AYYYYYYYYYE ITS HERE!!!! I swear I was gonna post it that night but then my friend needed to get out of the house so I went with her instead, and I’ve been busy with work and errands oops. my b. but here it is! I hope it’s as good as you all expected it to be.

He showed up when you were in kindergarten. Your best friend, Jaemin, had taken the seat next to Jeno, the boy you thought was cute, when he knew you wanted to sit there. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes when all of a sudden, there was a tiny “pssst!” in your ear. Looking over, you found a tiny boy about your age sitting on your shoulder. He was wearing a red t-shirt, red shorts, and red shoes. He had protruding from his hair, and a tail that flicked back and forth.

“Take the cap off his favorite marker,” he whispered.

“What?” you asked quietly.

“Take the cap off Jaemin’s favorite marker! He deserves it after taking your spot,” he urged you.

“But then he won’t be able to use it,” you said with a pout.

“So? It’s not gonna hurt him or anything.”

He gave you a smile that you couldn’t refuse. So, you went to Jaemin’s desk at the end of the day and took the cap off the pink marker before shoving it back in his pencil box. Your stomach twisted a little, but you ignored it when you looked at the boy on your shoulder. He grinned at you one more time before disappearing.

The next morning, there were wails echoing down the hallway as Jaemin sobbed over his favorite marker having been dried out overnight. The boy on your shoulder was cackling at the reaction, but you felt tears well up in your eyes. He looked over at you and immediately started panicking.

“Why are you crying?!”

“Because I hurt Jaemin. He’s my best friend,” you mumbled. “I feel really bad.”

“He’ll be fine, Y/N. It’s just a marker.”

You still felt bad, so when it was time to color, you gave Jaemin your pink marker. It wasn’t anywhere close to his, but he gave you a giant hug and let you sit next to Jeno, so you felt better. The boy on your shoulder pouted when you tried to make things right, but he didn’t say anything.

It took you a year to find out his name was Renjun, and that was only because you were going to scold him for suggesting something too mean, only to realize you didn’t know his name. After that, he showed up whenever you were upset, giving you new ways to make the people who hurt you inconvenienced in the pettiest ways possible. Whether it was by eating the last cookie when you knew Haechan wanted it after he made fun of you for your crush on Jeno, to emptying the shampoo bottle until there were only a couple drops because your sister made Jaemin cry because he played with your Barbies with you.

You were in college now, rooming with Jaemin and Jeno. It took you forever to get over your crush on the older boy, but you still appreciated his face and didn’t hesitate to cuddle with him during movie nights. Renjun still visited, but there wasn’t much reason for him to be with you as much as he was. The two of you had become friends in a way, but it was still very obvious that he was supposed to be there to help you get revenge.

“So, what am I doing again?” you asked quietly as you stood in line at Starbucks.

Jaemin had taken the last of your frozen waffles—your name was written all over the box so nobody would take them—the other day, so Renjun had suggested messing with his coffee order when the three of you met up for your study date after your morning lecture. It was your turn to order, which made it perfect.

“Ask Haechan to make Jaemin’s drink and add a shit ton of strawberry syrup to it. Then tell him that when Jaemin goes up to order a new drink, make one that’s decaf that looks like his cup of poison,” he told you. “You were going to eat those waffles for breakfast that morning, and instead your stomach was growling so loudly in your lecture that your professor kicked you out. He embarrassed you, and he ate something that was clearly not his. It’s a double whammy.”

It was your turn to order, so you said exactly what Renjun reminded you to say. Haechan had to stifle a laugh as he asked what Jaemin had done, his eyes widening when you explained what had happened to cause you to act out like this. The drinks were made quickly, and you brought them over to the table. The boys thanked you before returning to their books. Renjun appeared in the middle of the table, his silver hair shining under the light as he kept his full attention on the boy with pink hair. You nudged Jeno to watch Jaemin as the boy took a sip of his drink. His face twisted is disgust when the taste of strawberry hit his taste buds. Renjun was rolling around the table, cackling while holding his stomach.

“Ugh, I hate you,” Jaemin muttered as he sent a glare your way before heading to the counter to get a new drink.

“What’d you do?” Jeno asked as he leaned into your space. There was a sound of disgust that came in the direction of Renjun, but you ignored it.

“Told Haechan to put a bunch of strawberry syrup in Jaemin’s drink since he ate my waffles,” you replied.

He snorted and shoved your shoulder lightly. “That one was pure evil.”

“You’re not denying that he deserved it,” you pointed out.

“No, I’m not.”

“I absolutely did not deserve that!” Jaemin argued when he came back with his new drink. You glanced at Haechan, who winked at you.

“You ate my waffles,” you said.

“It was an accident!”

“I wrote my name all over the box!”

Renjun tugged on your finger to get your attention as Jaemin complained to Jeno about you. The little devil crawled up your arm and returned to his spot on your shoulder. You found it odd, considering he could just teleport himself there, but now wasn’t a good time to question it. Hiding him from your friends was difficult, but you didn’t want them to think you were crazy.

After your classes were done for the day, you collapsed on your bed and let out a big sigh. There were small footsteps on the nightstand beside you. Knowing who it was, you didn’t bother to look over.

“What’s wrong, kitten?” Renjun asked from his perch.

Your heart leapt at the nickname. It didn’t matter that he’d been calling you that since you were a kid; his nickname for you made your stomach twist in a good way. It sometimes made your cheeks heat up and your palms to sweat. Your body’s reaction scared you every time, because if you were imagining him—well, you didn’t want to think about it.

“’M just tired,” you stated. “My coursework seems to be growing bigger and bigger every week.”

Your pillow suddenly shifted under Renjun’s weight as he jumped down. His steps were shaky as he tried to stay steady on the stuffed object. You turned you head as he reached you, wondering what he was planning.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could help,” he said honestly before pressing his tiny lips to your cheek.

“It’s okay. I’ll just have to manage my time better.”

“I hope that doesn’t mean hanging out with me less,” he said with a chuckle.

You smiled. “Of course not.”

You took some time to admire him. He was wearing a red button-up that was done up to the collar, tucked into some black slacks, a pair of black dress shoes on his feet. His silver hair was combed back but relaxed. He looked so handsome, but you would never tell him that.

“Hey,” you said. “I have a question for you.”

“Shoot.”

“Why isn’t there an angel to accompany you? You know, like they have in the movies.”

The boy smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Because you’re already an angel.”

You blushed at the comment and flicked him, which knocked him over. “Shut up.”

“Hey, you were the one that asked,” he whined.

You laughed and watched as he returned to the nightstand to pout, arms crossed and everything. Crawling over, you leaned on your elbows and watched as he turned away. You stretched your head enough to press a kiss to the back of his head, and you watch the hue of his shirt crawl up the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry, Renjun. Do you forgive me?” you asked.

The boy turned around and let his arms fall to his sides. “I guess.”

A few hours later, you were working on your homework when you heard the tiny snores coming from your bed. Looking over, you found Renjun knocked out on your UFO squishable. He’d convinced you to get it when you’d gone to the mall a couple months ago, and it was his favorite thing to sit on when you were too busy to give him your attention. Your phone was playing a video beside him, so you got up to turn it off. He stirred, his eyes slowly opening as he smiled at you sleepily.

“Hey there, kitten,” he mumbled.

“Hey. C’mon, you’re falling asleep. Either head home or go to bed,” you told him quietly.

Groaning, he stood up and crawled onto the shelving that was in your headboard. In one of the little cubbies was a doll bed that was comfortable enough for him. There was also a doll’s closet nearby that held some of Renjun’s clothes. With a snap of his fingers, he was changed into red silk pajamas. You decided it was time to go to bed as well, so Renjun made sure to cover his eyes until you were in shorts and an oversized t-shirt. His lips pursed, but he didn’t say anything. You plugged your phone in before turning off your lights and crawling into bed. There was a press of tiny lips against your forehead.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

///

Having a devil sit in your shirt pocket as you attended your classes was definitely weird. Renjun didn’t need to be there, but he insisted he did in case you needed to get revenge on anyone. It hurt whenever you were feeling especially lonely, wishing he would tell you that he just wanted to spend time with you, but you knew his job demanded him to track you as much as possible. There were times you two were friends, but then he would turn around and act as if he was just there to do his job.

“This lecture is so boring,” Renjun whined as he flopped onto your desk. “Why can’t we go get ice cream?”

You ignored him, continuing to write notes from the PowerPoint. He shoved your pen to grab your attention, but you simply pushed him away with the tip of your writing utensil. Frowning, he sat on your textbook and watched as your pen glided across the paper, the ink looping stains into the surface in the form of words.  You questioned why he would stay when he could do whatever he wanted until the lecture was over. There would be no reason to get revenge while you were taking notes.

When class was over, you headed back to the apartment. Jeno and Jaemin were in the living room with their books out. You collapsed onto the couch between them and leaned against Jaemin. You could feel the smile he pressed to your forehead in a kiss before returning his attention to studying.

“That’s it?” you asked.

There was a chuckle, and then you were being dragged into his lap. You could hear his voice raise in pitch as he nuzzled your neck and tickled you, saying “I love you,” over and over again. You giggled and squirmed in his hold, but he didn’t let go. Jeno was watching from the other side of the couch, smiling brightly. Between your schedules, the three of you didn’t get much time together outside of your weekly movie nights, so moments like this were ones you cherished.

“Satisfied?” Jaemin asked when he finally pulled away.

“Very. So, what movies are we watching tonight?”

The boy holding you froze. You could feel him tense up, and you knew what he was going to say wasn’t what you wanted to hear. “I, uh, I actually have a date tonight.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh. Okay.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N—”

You waved it off with a smile. “Jaemin, don’t worry. Jeno and I can still have our movie night, right?”

“Actually—”

Groaning, you got up and started to leave. “Fine. I’m gonna go study.”

You ignored their calls to you, closing your bedroom door and locking it. You weren’t upset that they had plans; it was the fact that they didn’t tell you until you brought up movie night. Nobody liked learning about something last-minute.

You were lying on your bed when Renjun appeared. He crawled across the pillow and tangled himself in the hair on the top of your head. He loved playing with your hair, especially when he knew it could calm you down.

“So, what are you gonna do for the rest of the night, kitten?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Probably just watch movies alone and drink. I’ve got nothing better to do.”

“I can watch with you.”

“I don’t want you to get lost in the couch,” you mumbled.

“Oh! I almost forgot! I have a new trick.”

Before you could ask, he was jumping off your bed. You gasped, even though you knew he wouldn’t be hurt, and watched there was a sudden puff of smoke, and then Renjun was standing in your room, human-sized. He threw his arms out as if to say, “Well, what do you think?”

“Renjun, that’s amazing!” you exclaimed.

You jumped up and threw your arms around his neck. He grunted in surprise before slowly hugging you back. His face was buried in your neck as he said, “I won’t get lost in the couch like this.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the comment. You tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let go, so you guided him to the bed. He immediately laid the two of you down, pressing close to your side. It was the complete opposite of how he usually acted, so you were concerned.

“You okay?” you asked.

He nodded and said, “I’ve never hugged someone before. It’s nice.”

“O-oh. Well, feel free to hug me anytime.”

A couple hours later, Jaemin knocked on your door to let you know that he was leaving. You told him to have fun, making sure you didn’t sound upset. Jeno showed up shortly after, telling you he was heading to work. You vaguely remembered him mentioning needing to pick up shifts since hours were down, which would explain why he was working a night he usually didn’t. Once they were gone, you and Renjun headed to the kitchen to make snacks before starting your movie night. The way he moved around was awkward, as if he didn’t know how to act now that he was human-sized.

Once everything was ready, the two of you curled up on the couch, blankets thrown over your laps. There were two different kinds of alcohol on the coffee table, along with three kinds of snacks. Your heart raced as he threw an arm around your shoulders, but you ignored it as you clicked on a random movie. Immediately, you grabbed a bottle and took a swig, wincing at the burning that slid down your throat. There were eyes boring into the side of your head, but you ignored it and grabbed some fries instead.

About half an hour into the movie, Renjun stated, “Humans are weird.”

“How so?” you questioned.

“Does she really dress up as her brother every day? How the hell do her teammates not notice?” he asked.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Boys are dumb, Renjun.”

“I’m a boy.”

“You’re not a human boy.”

He let out a sigh and pulled you closer. “Thank god.”

You didn’t know how much time had passed when you reached the bottom of the one of the bottles. Neither of them anything more than halfway filled, but it was still a lot of alcohol to have consumed. You put the bottle down and reached for the other, but a hand on your wrist made you pause. You looked over to Renjun, who seemed worried. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the bottle and took a swig.

“I’m not taking care of you tomorrow,” he told you.

“You never do,” you pointed out. “I’ll be fine.”

The room was spinning, despite you not moving. Your head felt heavy, so you let it loll to the side. It hit Renjun’s shoulder, but you didn’t bother to move it. You could hear him mumble something, but you were too drunk to ask him to repeat it. Instead, you closed your eyes and let the alcohol lull you to sleep.

Jaemin and Jeno walked through the door, feeling exhausted. Jaemin had been stood up, so he went to Jeno’s job and waited for his shift to be over before they went home. The two of them looked at the sight before them and sighed. You were slumped over, passed out. Both bottles were empty, all the snacks were gone, and the TV lit up the room with the main menu of your favorite movie. They looked at each other before stepping forward to clean up the mess. They knew you weren’t upset about them leaving you alone on movie night, but they couldn’t help but feel bad. You wouldn’t have drunk so much if they’d been there, and you definitely wouldn’t be so hungover tomorrow.

Renjun watched as they cleaned, making sure to move gingerly around you, even though the three of you knew nothing would disturb you when you were in this state. He then looked at you and frowned; watching you drink like that scared him. You didn’t do it often, but when you did, you went pretty hard. He didn’t know what he would do if something bad ever happened to you while you were in that state.

///

“No.”

“But—”

“No, Renjun. I’m not doing it.”

“But he gave you a low score!” the devil argued.

You were sitting at your desk, staring at the test that you had taken a couple weeks ago. You had studied for it, but the questions were super hard, so you weren’t surprised to see the mark. Renjun, however, wanted you to get revenge.

“I deserved it, though. Looking at everything now, I can see where I messed up. It’s completely on me, not him,” you told him.

Renjun huffed and crossed his arms. “Fine, but you better do whatever I suggest next time.”

“To him or in general?”

“Both.”

Rolling your eyes, you headed to the kitchen and looked through the cupboards for something to eat. You could hear Jaemin and Jeno start to whisper to each other harshly, but you ignored it. You were looking for your favorite cereal, but the box wasn’t there. Confused, you glanced around and found it sitting the recycling bin. You slowly turned around to find your roommates holding cereal bowls, looking like deer caught in headlights.

“Jeno poured it,” Jaemin said quickly before going back to eating.

“Dude!” the other boy cries out. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was yours. I thought Jaemin bought it!”

“For her! I bought it for her!”

Without a word, you grabbed your keys, a sweatshirt, and your wallet before walking out. Your slippers made a shuffling sound as you walked through the apartment building and down the street to the convenience store. There, you bought your favorite cereal, a new gallon of milk because you knew you were running low, and some candy. Renjun appeared on your shoulder, a devilish grin on his face. How fitting.

“What’s the plan?” you asked as you walked back to the apartment.

“I was thinking of dyeing his hair to match Jaemin’s?”

You couldn’t help but grin. “That’s a step above petty, isn’t it?”

“It was your favorite cereal.”

“You’re just suggesting it because you’re still upset about Jeno rejecting me.”

He scoffed. “He turned down a perfectly good girl. How else was I supposed to react?”

You could feel the blush heating your cheeks. “I don’t know, like you don’t care? I thought you weren’t supposed to worry about me?”

“After spending fifteen years with you, do you really think I wouldn’t care about your feelings?” he questioned.

“Guess not.”

When you returned to the apartment, the boys were nowhere to be found. You remembered that Jeno had to work again, and Jaemin was driving him to work, so you acted fast. Luckily, the hair mask that Jeno used on his bleached hair was already a pink color (because Chenle bought it from an expensive salon store and there was no way a broke college kid with hair that desperately needed hydration in his hair would turn it down, no matter the color) so you mixed in some of Jaemin’s hair dye and put everything back in its place before carefully shoving the trash to the bottom of the can. You then entered your room right as Jaemin came back, so you were safe.

You woke up to a scream the next morning before your door was thrown open. Sitting up, you looked at Jeno’s hair, a hand flying to your mouth to stifle your giggles. His blond locks were now a pastel pink, matching your best friend almost perfectly. There was a deep frown on his face as he stared at you.

“My hair? Really?” he asked.

You got out of bed and walked over, running your fingers through his hair once you reached him. His eyes closed at the feeling, all tension from his body leaving immediately. You smiled and said, “You look good in pink.”

His eyes opened halfway and he stared at you with a grin on his face as you scratched his skull lightly. “You sure know how to get me to calm down.”

“We’ve been friends since we were five, Jeno. I’d be concerned if I didn’t know how,” you stated.

“Did you put it in my hair mask?” You nodded. “Well, I guess I can keep it pink for a while.”

“Honey, you don’t really have a choice.” You stood on your toes to whisper in his ear, “Just don’t eat my cereal again,” before pressing a kiss to his cheek and leaving your room.

Renjun appeared on the couch in the family room, his facial expression similar to what Jeno’s was a couple minutes ago. “What the hell was that?”

You shrugged, knowing the boys could hear you. He rolled his eyes and asked, “You realize you just flirted with him, right?”

“So what?” you mouthed.

“I thought you were over him.” You nodded again. “Clearly not if you’re acting like this.”

You scoffed as you poured yourself some coffee before making a bowl of cereal. Whatever you did shouldn’t make him so angry, so you weren’t worried about it. If he was mad, that was on him. You could live your life however you wanted, so if you flirted with Jeno, you flirted with Jeno. There was no harm.

You decided to work on your homework, hoping to get it done before Haechan’s frat’s party. All the guys were going, so you were excited to hang with them. Jeno and Jaemin waited for you to finish your homework before leaving for the party. Renjun was back on your shoulder, dressed in a red sweatshirt and black skinny jeans. The sweatshirt was oversized, practically swallowing him. He looked adorable, but you couldn’t say anything without the others hearing you, so you just had to settle for looking at him as much as you could.

Before you even stepped on the property you could feel the bass in your chest. It seemed like the lights were off, but you could see the glow of blacklights from the windows. It would be easy to spot Jaemin and Jeno, even when you were drunk.

You walked through the door and pushed through the crowd to the kitchen. There, you found Jisung, Chenle, and Mark doing shots. Jisung locked eyes with you and spat out the shot, though. You placed your hands on your hips and waited for his excuse.

“I was just, uh, I was—sorry Mom,” he stuttered.

“Dude, she can’t control you,” Chenle stated.

“No, but I hate when she’s disappointed in me,” Jisung whined.

You hit Chenle on the back of the head as you passed him to grab a cup and some liquor. “Be grateful somebody’s here to take care of you, brat.”

Chenle threw an arm over your shoulders and pressed a noisy kiss to the side of your head. “I always am.”

It didn’t take long for the alcohol to take over. You were drinking random liquor, playing beer pong, and taking shots with Mark and Haechan. Renjun had disappeared at some point, but you were too drunk to care. At one point, you found yourself dancing with Jeno in the family room. Everybody was pressed close together, so you didn’t think much about the hands on your hips. You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep yourself steady. Your foreheads were pressed together, and it felt nice.

You didn’t know how long the two of you were kissing before you finally realized what was happening. You pulled away and stared at one of your best friends, jaw dropped in shock. Jeno’s eyes opened slowly, your gazes meeting. You could tell that he was surprised as well by the way his body tensed up. You looked around and froze when you spotted Renjun. You expected him to look annoyed or angry, but not upset. Not like his heart was broken.

“Renjun,” you said.

The devil turned around and pushed through the crowd. You pulled away from Jeno and followed Renjun, calling his name over and over to get him to stop. When you exited the house, he looked at you one more time before disappearing in a puff of smoke. There was a lump in your throat as tears threaten to spill.

“Renjun, please,” you whispered.

Usually he came as soon as you called him, but that night he didn’t.

///

Jaemin was worried. You hadn’t holed yourself in your room since Jeno gently rejected you when you were all sophomores. Jaemin had managed to get you to open up for him back then, but this time you wouldn’t budge. At this point, he just wanted to make sure you were alive. The door hadn’t opened since the night of the party.

He knew what happened at the party. He saw what happened. He watched you run away, seemingly chase someone. He caught you when you had collapsed on the lawn in tears. He carried you home as you mumbled about a “Renjun” over and over again. He had no idea what you were talking about, but it was clearly the reason you were shutting everyone out.

You skipped class for two days before finally returning to your normal schedule. Jeno and Jaemin tried to talk to you, but you kept ear buds whenever you weren’t in class. They could tell that you had lost weight by the way your sweatshirts hung on your frame as if it was one of theirs instead. You buried yourself in your studies, working on essays well into the night.

It was about a month after the party when Jaemin and Jeno finally cornered you. You were in the living room, highlighting one of your textbooks when Jaemin snatched it from your grasp. You made a noise of protest, but he ignored it in favor of sitting on the coffee table. You could see Jeno standing by the hallway, unsure of whether he should join or not.

“Y/N, we’re worried about you,” Jaemin stated. “You haven’t talked to anyone, and you haven’t been eating enough. You’ve lost far too much weight to convince us you’ve been working out. No, don’t you dare argue with me, we both know that’s what you would’ve told us. We don’t want to get a call from the hospital that you passed out on campus. It would break our hearts to see you like that.”

“’M sorry,” you mumbled.

“We just want to know what’s been going on,” Jeno chimed in. “It’s not just because I kissed you; that’s been made clear.”

“Does it have to do with somebody named Renjun?” Jaemin asked quietly.

You felt your composure crumble. You hadn’t seen or heard from Renjun in a month, and it was killing you. The longer it went on, the more you were convinced that he had never existed in the first place. You were scared for what that meant; would anything else pop up that would have you questioning your own sanity?

The doorbell rang, so Jeno offered to get it, saying something about Mark coming over to study. Jaemin reached out and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder as you tried to hold it all together. It was so difficult to, especially when you hadn’t talked to anyone about it.

“Y/N, it’s for you,” Jeno called out.

Confused, you got up to see who would be visiting the apartment. Your whole body froze up as your eyes landed on the boy standing before you. His silver hair was trimmed and combed back. He was wearing a button-up, a light jean jacket, and black jeans. In his hand was a paper bag with no logo on it. There was a sad smile on his face as he stared at you.

“Renjun,” you whispered.

“Hey, kitten.”

The nickname made you move. You ran forward and jumped into his arms, muffling your sobs in his neck. His hands clutched your body tight, as if he was afraid you would disappear. You knew Jaemin and Jeno were watching, but you couldn’t bring yourself to face them just yet.

“So, this is the Renjun that you’ve been so upset over?” Jaemin asked. You could hear the protectiveness in his voice.

“Jaemin,” Jeno hissed. “Give them their time.”

“Can we go to your room?” Renjun asked.

You nodded and grabbed his hand before dragging him down the hallway. As soon as your door was closed, you hugged him again. He rubbed your back and pressed kiss after kiss to your hair, apologies flying out of his mouth in between.

“I just—how are you here? How can they see you?” you asked.

He seemed to hesitate before grabbing your hand. He guided it to his head, and you could feel ridges on his head. It dawned on you that they were scars, located where his horns used to be. You gasped and pulled your hand away to place it on his cheek instead.

“What happened?” you questioned.

“I, uh, I gave it all up.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged and said, “I became a human.”

Your breath got caught in your throat. Why would he become a human? He could do whatever he wanted as the devil, so why would he give it all up?

“Why?” you finally asked.

A sigh left his lips as he sat on your bed. You followed, not wanting him to stray too far. He seemed to hesitate before grabbing your hand. “When you’re the devil, you’re not supposed to feel anything but anger and happiness, and the happiness is only supposed to happen when you get the person you’ve been assigned to do whatever you feel they should do. Caring about them was not something we could do, so I already knew there was something up. Feeling like I wanted to cry when I saw you kissing Jeno? It wasn’t supposed to be possible. And then I checked on you a couple days after the party, and—”

“You checked on me?” you asked quietly.

He smiled softly. “Of course I did. I’ve never been able to stay away for long. Anyway, I heard Jeno apologizing through the door. I knew you were both too drunk to know what you were doing. I went to Satan and talked to him for a long time about it, and he set up tests to make sure I wanted to become a human.”

“Sounds like you jumped through hoops to get here.”

“They were on fire, too.”

You laughed at his joke, which made him smile. Then, he urged you to get a shower, which would be the first time in a few days. Embarrassed, you rushed to the bathroom and jumped in as soon as the water was hot. You took the time to clean every crevice on your body, which you noticed was actually as thin as Jaemin and Jeno had said. They weren’t exaggerating when they said something about you passing out.

Upon exiting the shower, you noticed there was a pile of clothing sitting on the counter. Confused, you walked over to inspect it. None of it was familiar, but you pulled it on anyway. They smelled like cologne that you knew neither Jaemin nor Jeno owned; Renjun must’ve sneaked them in without you noticing. Smiling, you took the towel and dried your hair a little before stepping out of the bathroom. The three boys were in the living room, your friends seemingly interrogating Renjun. He looked over to you and rolled his eyes before grinning.

“Hey there,” he greeted. “You hungry? I brought some food from your favorite place.”

You nodded shyly and watched him grab it from the paper bag he brought with him. You went to sit next to him on the couch, but he grabbed your hips and guided you to his lap, instead. A squeak left your mouth, and there was a low chuckle behind you.

“Either of you planning on telling us what happened?” Jaemin asked, clearly annoyed.

You turned to Renjun, who was biting his lip. He looked at you, and you shrugged. He sighed and looked at your friends before saying, “So, I was the devil that lived on her shoulder.”

Renjun told them everything. When he first appeared, everything he’d convinced you to do, how his feelings for you grew, him seeing what happened at the party, becoming a human, everything. Their eyes were wide, their jaws were dropped, and their bodies seemed to be frozen in shock. You munched along, listening to Renjun’s side of the story. When he was done, you looked at your friends and waited for their reactions.

“You know, that actually makes a lot of sense,” Jeno commented.

Jaemin flailed. “What?!”

“Every once in a while, it seemed like she looked to her shoulder and talked. I always thought I was imagining it or she was doing something else,” Jeno explained.

You let out a big yawn before anything else could be said, so Renjun suggested going to your room to nap. He tossed out your trash and was soon on your heels, locking the door behind you two. He joined you on the bed and threw an arm over your waist. Rolling over, your eyes locked with his. It was a couple minutes before he finally asked, “What’s on your mind, kitten?”

“Just wondering when you’re gonna kiss me,” you mumbled.

Smiling, he propped himself on his arm and leaned over you. Your lips brushed before you finally took the last step and pulled him down. He grunted in surprise, and then his hands came up to cup your face. Your heart was beating like crazy, and it felt like it would burst from your chest any minute. He pulled away and pressed a couple kisses to your cheek before leaving a final one on your forehead.

There was so much that needed to be talked about. He needed to situate himself in the real world with school, a job, and a place of his own. He needed to learn the mannerisms of humans since he didn’t care to pay attention before. But for now, taking a nap with him was the only thing on your mind, and that was okay.

Everything was okay.

[sprnklersplashes]

heart of stone (17/?)

AO3

Janis doesn’t remember falling asleep, but when she wakes up the TV is off and her tray table is cleared. A soft moan escapes her lips as she stretches, her legs shifting against the mattress and her hand dragging down her face, her mind still almost asleep and wanting to stay there. Her body fights to stay awake, trying to pull her to consciousness, but it’s like pulling yourself out of quicksand. It doesn’t take long at all for her to give in and pull the blankets tighter around her, her hand drifting to the back of her neck-

That gets her up, even if she’s not entirely sure why it did at first. She lays there, frowning in confusion and wondering why something isn’t right. She looks at her surroundings, checking them off one by one, but nothing clicks with her, not until she pushes herself up and runs her hand over her head. That’s when reality shoves her in the chest, the touch cold and cruel and hard, winding her.

She doesn’t remember what she was dreaming about, but she had hair in it.

“Jesus Christ,” she mutters. She kicks the covers off and pulls her knees close to her chest. Her body is still stiff and sore from sleep and her eyes are still heavy and her vision half-blurred. She buries her face in her hand and pulls at the skin, nails digging in like she can take growing lump of self-pity and rip it out with her bare hands. She swallows down whatever pathetic cry was building in her throat and looks out the window instead, out at grey sky hanging over the parking lot and down to the ant-sized people walking around the parking lot and beyond. She leans forward on her elbow and blinks away sleep. They’re saying it’s set to start snowing soon and judging by the colour of those clouds and the frost creeping up her windowpane, that might be sooner than she thinks. A thrill of excitement runs up her spine, and a slow roll of disappointment crushes it. It may well snow, but who knows what kind of state she’ll be in when it does?

“Morning.”

“Oh my god!”

Well, there’s one way to be woken up, she thinks as her heart rate triples and she nearly hits the ceiling from jumping so high. The whole hospital probably just heard that. She predicts that in thirty seconds there will be a team of nurses flooding in, her concerned mother with them, all expecting to see her in the foetal position in the corner.

When she turns around, to her surprise, she finds Damian standing in the doorway, cup in his hand and a sheepish expression on his face. She turns to face him, blinking once, twice, just to make sure she isn’t still dreaming. She goes through the week in her head, trying to work out why and how he came to be here, anxiety ticking upwards.

“Were we…” she begins. “Were we meant to hang out today?”

“Oh, no,” he says with a shake of his head. “No, don’t worry kid.” She shifts then, her hands half-clasped in her lap and the frown not leaving her face.

“So… and I mean this with all the love in my heart,” she asks. “What are you doing here?”

“I just…” His smile just about wavers on his face and he shrugs. “I was in the neighbourhood.”

“You live half an hour away,” she reminds him dryly.

“Okay, okay,” he replies. His voice is strained, tired even, and there’s a flicker of guilt in her chest. “I… just missed you, I guess. I mean I know I saw you yesterday, but I missed you. Still.” He closes the looks down at the cup in his hand and swirls his around. “I went to go get some tea from the machine and when I came back, you were up. Is it a bad time? I mean, it probably is-”

“No, Damian, it isn’t.” She almost admits that it isn’t ideal either, but she bites her tongue and holds it back. It isn’t ideal, not when she’s just barely woken up and she only feels like half of a person, but he doesn’t need to hear that. Not when, judging by his face, he already feels bad enough. And honestly… she missed him too. Especially when he was by her side almost every day since they met. Only seeing him once a week feels wrong somehow, and so any visit, even when she’s not feeling herself, is a welcome one.

With a soft smile, she pushes herself off the bed and motions for him to sit down. She slips in beside him, her legs falling over his and trapping him on the chair before he can attempt to move. Then she throws her arm around his shoulders and tilts his face to look at her, squishing his cheek to lighten the mood. “It’s not a bad time. You could never be.”

“Aw.” He grins, lighting up the room as he does so, and pokes her cheek in return. “You’re sweet.”

“Mm, I have to be every once in a while. Otherwise I’m just an asshole with a sense of humour and great legs.” He chuckles at that and she feels it against her. Their bodies are so tightly pressed together they’re practically the same person, and she’s reminded of when they were still in middle school, having sleepovers where they would lie side-by-side on the couch. They never stopped being affectionate with each other, but they were never quite as intimate that way again until now. It’s a good feeling, and one she hadn’t known she missed. “So, what’s the haps? Oh, winter talent show, isn’t that around the corner?”

“Sign-up sheet is up already,” he tells her. “You’ll never, ever guess what the Plastics signed up to do.”

“Oh God,” she scoffs. “Well, I guess it’s their last year. It would be rude to break tradition. I take it Cady’s doing it with them?”

“They are,” he says. He opens his mouth and closes it again, and despite the lack of spoken words she hears all she needs to, a silent ‘they didn’t tell you’ hanging between them. “They still need a fourth person. Regina said she wants them to start rehearsing soon. Hopefully, this year runs a lot more smoothly than last year’s.”

“Are you doing an act?” she asks. “I think you should.”

“I don’t know. Although I was talking to Aaron and he said I should do a Cabaret number just to show the drama club what they’re missing,” he jokes. “I told him that’s too petty.”

“Not petty enough. Do a lap dance in front of the director. And make it your college audition.”

“You know someone on the Reddit forums said they did and they got into Elon with it.”

“I would check the verification of that,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Not because I think it’s not true, but because I so desperately want it to be.” He laughs and whispers ‘okay’ at that before the smile melts from his face, revealing something a little more serious beneath it.

“Sorry I scared you,” he says. “I came in and you were asleep, and your mom said I could wait around if I wanted.” He shrugs. “She went to go stretch her legs. It that was a while ago, but I told her I could hold it down here.”

“It’s fine,” she says and waves her hand to prove it. “She needs some alone time anyway. Although I’m very curious as to how long you sat there and watched me sleep.” The corner of her mouth turns up into a grin. “Pervert.”

“I didn’t watch you sleep I read the magazine your mom left here,” he says before he consults his watch. “And it wasn’t even ten minutes.”

“Mm, you say that.” She leans her head on his shoulder and snuggles further into him. It’s not perfect; her knees smack into his chest and narrowly avoid his face, but it’s okay. “We probably should have taken the bed.”

“Oops,” is all he replies and it gets her bursting into laughter. “Eh, this feels more right. More organic.”

“More gay,” she finishes.

“Eh, that too,” he shrugs. “Plus I think this chair and I are permanently bonded now.”

“I’ll send out the wedding invites,” she jokes. She finds a semi-comfortable position with her head propped up on her elbow and her legs draped over the other side of the chair and as she does, an idea sparks up in her mind. “Hey… maybe I could go to the talent show.”

“What?”

“It was one conversation topic ago,” she says. “But the school talent show. Well… maybe I could go.” She inspects her nails. “I mean, it’s not definite. But it would be fun. Especially if you decided to do a funky little Broadway medley.” He grins, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes and she feels her stomach do a turn.

“I mean… I’d love that,” he says. “But… are you sure you’d be able to? I mean, isn’t you being here kind of a permanent thing?”

“It’s not like I’m quarantined, Damian.” It’s only after she said it that she realises how harsh she sounds. She swears that it sounded nicer in her head. Damian blinks slowly as her words turn into dust and settle over them, and all she can do is bite her tongue and attempt to work out where the hell that came from. She shakes her head, a short, quick breath escaping her, and smiles. “Besides, even if I was I’d break out for you.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” he says.

“But it should be fine,” she says. “You know, be back by a certain time. Don’t stay out too much, have my mom on speed dial. And it’s not like we’d be walking around a lot. Besides, we go out all the time?”

“We?” he asks, his eyebrow raised.

“Me and the cancer crew,” she explains. “We’re allowed out as long as we’re supervised and back in time for our chemo. In fact, we’re going to this concert next month.”

“A concert?” he echoes, equally disbelieved.

“Yeah. I mean it’s not something I’d usually be into. It’s that Jingle Ball concert, which isn’t really my thing, but the cancer fund secured a bunch of free tickets. And it’s in some private box. And….” She leans in close, her voice a low, husky whisper to add to the dramatic effect. “A minibar.”

“Oh and I’m sure that’ll go over great with all you underage kids.”

“Yeah,” she grimaces. “But it’s still cool to have. But anyway the point is yes, I am allowed to leave. Thank God. I think I’d go insane if I had to say cooped up in here 24/7.” She shudders at the thought of spending every minute of every day inside these walls. The deal she has right now is bad enough for her. “There would most definitely be a bloodbath at some point.”

“Well that’s a beautiful image,” he says, his eyes going wide as he pictures it too. Janis hides her chuckle behind her hand. “Load of sick children trying to murder each other with their bare hands.

“Don’t be fooled, some of us are very scrappy,” she says. “Anyway, I’ll ask my mom about me going to the talent show. And my doctor, too.” She hesitates then, studying him out of the corner of her eye and gauging his reactions. “If…. That’s okay with you?”

“Okay with me?” he echoes. “Of course it’s okay.” He grins at her then, and it puts her at ease completely. She feels silly for even worrying, even if it was just for a minute. Why would he not be okay with it? “I’d need my biggest fan in the audience.”

“Cady looks cute as shit in that Santa outfit,” she says. “I need to see her in it up close.”

“You already saw her in it last year.”

“Yeah but we weren’t dating last year,” she reminds him. “And also I hated Regina last year, so I kept my distance. And I still hate her, of course. But you know. We’re all friends, I guess.” Damian hums in agreement. She almost opens her mouth to say something else, but she’s too preoccupied by what she just said. That she hated Regina last year and that she still does. The former is true, but the latter? For some reason she isn’t so sure. She may dislike her still, but would she really have called her in her weakest moment if she hated her?

“I’m sure I’ll be able to slip away for an hour,” she says. She shakes her head slightly, trying to clear her head, and hopes Damian doesn’t see. “If nothing else I want to see if they can pull it off without me set designing.”

“You are such a freaking Scorpio you know that?” he scoffs. No sooner has he said it than he gasps loudly, his hand slapping her leg with a loud, loud thwack and likely leaving a little red mark. She rubs the spot and glares at him, even if he’s oblivious to it, hoping to get an explanation. “Your birthday! Your birthday’s coming up.”

“Oh. Yeah.” She shifts in the seat slightly. “That.” Damian looks at her expectantly, his mouth falling into a small ‘oh’, and she just shrugs back at him. “I mean, you’re right. My birthday is soon.” It’s just over a week away actually, not that she’s counting.

“And?” he asks. “We haven’t even started planning yet. What kind of cake do you want? What do you want?”

“You don’t need to get me presents,” she sighs, rolling her eyes. She avoids his gaze entirely, instead focussing on the back of the chair and pulling at lose threads on it. “I mean… it’s fine. I haven’t thought about it a lot.” She pulls harder, the treads making sharp sounds as she pulls them out. “I don’t…. I’m not sure about my birthday this year.”

Damian opens his mouth, the word ‘why’ ready on his lips, but it dies in less than a second and he takes in the room as though he’s seeing it for the first time. She doesn’t blame him, not entirely. Sometimes it’s easy to forget, a combination of old habits dying hard and of conversation taking them away from here, making her feel almost normal again. She smiles to herself, soft and a little bitter, and runs her nails along the back of the chair.

“You sure?” he asks. “I mean I know it’s different this year…. But you only turn 18 once.” He nudges her with his shoulder. “Besides, as the second born in the group, you’ll be setting the precedent for everyone else.”

“I miss when I was the oldest,” she jokes. Back when it was just him and her, and when it was him, her and Cady, she was always the first birthday. Now they’ve melded with the Plastics and Regina’s July birthday has outshone hers. At least she got to go to her party this year. It wasn’t too bad, although she and Cady did end up sneaking out early and making use of the hammock in Regina’s back yard.

Maybe if the topic comes up, she’ll ask her parents for a hammock.

“I just want you to enjoy yourself,” he says after a while. His face is soft when he looks at her, soft and completely vulnerable. It’s one of the many things she loves about him, that unironic earnest manner of his. It’s why she feels the safest with him. The corner of his mouth turns upwards. “Just because you’re in a hospital doesn’t mean you can’t party. And we want to celebrate you.” She raises her eyebrows at him. “Well, I do. And Cady definitely does. And Karen probably just wants cake.” She slaps his head lightly, her touch careful, knowing from experience that being slapped hurts more with a shaved head. But her heart is warm and growing to twice its size, and she needs to take a minute just to compose herself before thinking on anything else.

He’s not the first to being up her birthday. Her mom’s brought it up twice now and both times she’s dodged the topic with as much grace as she can muster and her mom seems to have gotten the hint. It’s not that she doesn’t want to do anything, on the contrary, she wants to do a lot. She had started gathering ideas for her 18th birthday during the summer, gathering inspiration on Pinterest boards and then going to check prices. She didn’t have a concrete idea, but she had hoped a chocolate fountain was involved. It would most likely devolve into a sleepover with Cady and Damian (if her mom would allow a sleepover with her girlfriend). She had other ideas too; maybe a movie marathon, or bowling, or both, and loads of pizza and popcorn and a chocolate fountain and not actually sleeping until the early hours of the morning. The she got cancer, and the plans went out of the window.

The bottom line of it all is, she has no idea what type of day her birthday will be. If she’ll be up and running around and feeling mostly fine or if she’ll start it with her head bent over a toilet and have it all go downhill from there. And the last thing she wants to do is hang plans on something only for it to go south. To have all her friends over and for her to not be here, not really. But Damian’s planted the idea in her head now, and her mind won’t let it go.

“I appreciate that, Damian,” she says quietly. She gives a shrug, a cheeky grin on her face. “And who knows? Maybe we could do something.”

“Really?”

“I said maybe,” she reminds him firmly. Nothing is set in stone either way and that’s the best way to handle anything now. The finer details are a bridge she can cross closer to the time, she decides. It’s the easiest way to not get hurt, and also to make sure no-one else gets let down. For now she smushes her cheek against his shoulder and smiles. “Thanks for coming over by the way.”

“Aww.” He runs his knuckles up and down her arm. “Anything for you, mon Cherie.”

Damian sticks around for almost an hour, the two of them spending the time flicking through the TV and deciding to move to the bed after fifteen minutes, when he says he can’t feel his leg any more. He fills her in on more of the school stuff she’s missed, the news getting more and more mundane until he reaches topics she’s already heard. She doesn’t tell him that though. At some point, she entertains the idea of taking him down to the longue and the two of them commandeering the better TV in there, maybe introducing him to some people, but not two seconds later she pushes it away, suddenly shaken by it. She doesn’t know why, but the idea of introducing Damian to her cancer friends doesn’t sit well with her.

“Thanks for coming over,” she says again, her voice soft and cracking as she does so. She punches his shoulder gently. “I missed you.”

“Sorry I crashed your nap,” he replies, nodding over in the direction of the bed. Janis frowns and follows his gaze. When she looks back at him, he only shrugs awkwardly, his frame almost too big for the door, a guilty expression on his face. “You know… just if I’d known you were asleep I wouldn’t have come over.”

“What? No, Damian.” She shakes her head, her hand halfway extended towards him. “No it’s fine. Besides, it was nice to wake up to you.” She grins. “After the heart attack you gave me.”

“Yeah I’m sorry about that too,” he adds, but there’s more of a smile on his face now. She stretches up on her toes and hugs him tightly, letting him know it’s fine. It’s all fine, really. And while he can’t see her face, she lets out a small exhale, her face scrunching just a little as she thinks about it more. He missed her, and he came all this way to see her. She thinks that maybe she shouldn’t be so surprised at this, not anymore, but here she is.

Her mom is sitting in the chair when she returns to her room, her glasses perched on the end of her nose and her phone screen reflected in them. She sees from the reflection it’s Solitaire and she guesses by her mom’s face that it’s not going well.

“He’s gone home,” she says by way of greeting. She flops onto her bed and ends up in some half-sitting half lounging position, her knees against her chest.  She looks at her mom out of the corner of her eye, watching her expression barely changing. Must be a hard game.

“How is he?” she asks, half distracted.

“He’s good,” she says. She ducks her head and if she had hair still, it would hide the smile on her face. “It was fun. We had fun.”

“Well that’s good,” she says, still not putting the phone down but her eyes moving over to her. Janis looks down and picks at the sheets, her legs crossed and she bites the inside of her cheek, the elephant in the room nudging her repeatedly with its trunk until she takes a deep breath just to shut it up.

“Pity I was conked out when he came in,” she says. “That must have been awkward.”

“A little,” she admits. That’s when she puts the phone down and looks at her, her eyes all soft. “He didn’t mind sticking around though.” Janis’ heart warms at that even more than it already was.

“He wouldn’t,” she whispers fondly. She picks up the remote and leans back on the pillows, a small grunt escaping her. Her mom’s ears-fine turned at this point-prick up and she looks over at her, closing the cover on her phone.

“You feeling okay?” her mom asks.

“Fine,” she says tightly. She shifts around on the bed, trying to find a position that’s comfortable. At some point when Damian was here, she had felt a wave of nausea roll over her and while he had provided a good distraction-and was fine with the two of them just sitting on the bed-now it seems determined to make its presence known. On the plus side, she’s almost certain she’s not going to throw up (not that there’s anything to throw up), but that doesn’t stop the feeling of something clawing its way up her throat. “Mom could you get me some water?”

“Yeah, yeah sure sweetheart.” About five seconds, if even, pass between her asking and her mom thrusting the glass of water in her hands. She stays by Janis’ side as she drinks it, her fingers against her temple. Janis feels the weight of her eyes on her and if she didn’t already feel heavily uncomfortable, she does now.

“Mom?” she begins. Her mom’s eyes light up, her lips moving in a wordless ‘yeah?’. “I’m okay. You can go sit down. Really.” Her mom nods and pats her head before she goes. She even makes a show of taking out her phone and looking at it, although one eye always remains on her.

She doesn’t feel any better by that evening either, despite having spent most of the day laying around in her pyjamas. So in addition to feeling sick, she actually feels pretty gross too. Her clothes stick to her body, top clinging to her spine and her pants twisted around her legs. The invisible feeling slithers over her skin, that feeling of inactivity and laziness, that, even if she knows it isn’t her fault, makes her disgusted with herself. She tosses a pen between her hands just to give her body something to do, lest she slip even lower.

“Hey.” Her mom taps her hand. “I take it you’re not up for going down to the cafeteria.”

“Nope,” she responds. She might be able to make it down there, but she may throw herself across the first empty table she sees. Her mom nods, her hand starting to curl around hers. “You go on, I’ll be okay.” She waves the TV remote. “I’ve got Jeopardy! to keep me company. There’s probably a good movie on tonight too.”

“Okay. What do you want me to bring you up?” she asks. “Pretty sure they’re doing that mac and cheese tonight. I might get that for myself too.”

Despite her mom’s enthusiasm, Janis shakes her head, her jaw clenching at the idea of eating anything.

“I don’t want anything,” she mumbles and the minute she says it she braces herself for the reaction. She makes a bet with herself that she can predict her mom’s response word for word. “I’m okay.”

“Janis, you need to eat something,” her mom says. “Why don’t I just bring you up some fries?”

“I’m not hungry,” she sighs, focussing her attention on the TV and fisting her hand in the covers. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees her mom’s stone-cold face cracking and she’s a little surprised if she’s being honest with herself. Normally this goes on for at least three more rounds before her mom relents and makes her promise to eat something later tonight. It’s normally Janis telling her that if she eats something there is a high chance she’ll throw it back up again tonight and a mumbles reminder that no-one wants to go through that. But not tonight.

“Okay,” she says. She stands up and brushes down her jeans. She doesn’t seem annoyed or angry at all, and yet Janis feels guilty all the same. “I’ll be fast. You sure you don’t want some fries brought up?”

“I’m okay.” She shakes her head. “But if they have those bread rolls…” Her voice trails off as relief floods her mother’s face. She doesn’t even try to hide it.

“You want butter with it?”

“If I don’t, I think Dad might appear in here and remind me of my French heritage,” she jokes. “See you in a bit.”

“See you.”

She turns up the volume as her mom closes the door and pulls her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on it and tilting her body forwards. Her spine twinges from the position, but it makes the cramping in her stomach let up, so it’s a burden she’s willing to put up with for now. She takes another shaky sip of water and returns the cup to its precarious position balanced between her pillow and the bedrail. One wrong move from her and her pillow is soaked. It took a significant amount of time to get the cup to balance perfectly like it is.

On the other side of her, her phone buzzes, the screen lighting up and showing her a text from Cady, a simple ‘hey there’ followed by a purple heart. With a gentle giggle, she types a reply.

‘What’s up?’ Cady asks. She hesitates for a moment, her fingers hovering over the screen, before carefully typing out her reply.

‘Not much. Feeling a bit ick rn.’

‘Oh,’ is Cady’s reply, followed by ‘everything okay?’ Janis can almost imagine her expression, the way her face probably fell slightly when she read it, the concern in her eyes. She probably tapped her fingers on the desk as she replied too.

‘I’m fine. Just a little gross. Give me a day and I’ll be peachy again.’ She follows that up with a little peach emoji, the joke not lost on her but probably lost on Cady. ‘Mom’s getting me bread rn.’

‘Like…. Bread as in money?’ Janis snickers at that, half-covering her face with her hand.

‘No. As in actual bread.’

‘Ah. It’s the French side of you coming out.’ Janis sends a little French flag emoji and scrolls through until she finds the chef’s kiss emoji too, committing to the art.

‘What’s happening with you?’ she asks. Cady doesn’t respond with a text or an emoji, rather she sends a photo of her desk; three piles of closed notebooks and one open on the table, covered in six different colours of pen and little neon markers sticking out at the sides like little flags. Behind it, the curtains are drawn and the scene is lit up by the desk lamp and nothing else. Janis is just about to make a comment on the when Cady sends another photo, this time of herself wearing a dark blue hoodie that’s at least one size too big for her, her hair pulled back into a low ponytail and waving a French fry sitting on a fork at the camera. And oh god, her face, one cheek puffed out and her eyes bulging. Adorable doesn’t even begin to cover it.

‘Party for one, I see.’ She opens the photo again and narrows her eyes, a detail catching her eye. ‘Is that my hoodie?’

Cady is silent at first, and then,

‘Oh shit is it?’ Janis zooms in on the photo and turns up the brightness on her phone, just to make sure.

‘Yep. The forbidden planet one. Legit forgot I owned it.’

‘Oops,’ Cady says. The little dots appears in the next second, dancing in their little wave. ‘Do you want it back?’

‘Sure, give me a second I’ll jump in the truck and come to yours, you can toss it out the window to me. Like a gay version of the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet’ she teases. ‘It’s fine Caddy. You hold onto it. I didn’t even notice it was gone. Besides,’ she adds. ‘You look cute in it.’

‘I knew it was comfortable for a reason,’ Cady replies, and despite being alone, Janis buries her head in her arms to hide her blush.

She really hopes this part of their relationship never goes away; the part where she gets stupid happy at silly, sappy things like this. Whatever else changes, she hopes this never does.

‘Anyway,’ Cady goes on. ‘I actually did want to talk. Basically, I’m pretty booked a lot next week, but I miss you, and I wanted to ask if you want to Face Time one day next week? I know we have Friday nights but….. you know’

‘I do know,’ she replies, giggling into her sleeve. They go back and forth working out the finer details, Janis factoring in her medicines and the days she tends to be at her best and Cady looking through their own busy schedule and after they move around a study session, they pencil it in for Wednesday night.

‘I’ll even wear pink for you,’ Janis teases and Cady replies with a stuck-out-togue cat emoji.

‘I should probably hit the books again,’ they reply, this time followed by a sad cat emoji. Something Janis has noticed about Cady is that if they can, the emoji they send will be one of the cat ones. She’s wondered about that. Maybe because they remind them of their lions back in Kenya.

At that moment, her mom comes through the door carrying two little plastic cartons and a napkin-wrapped bread roll on top of them.

‘Yes you should. My dinner’s here too anyway.’

‘I thought you said you were getting bread?’

‘Yes. Bread is my dinner,’ she explains, like it should be obvious. ‘Trust me, it’s all I can eat right now.’ Cady falls silent on their end as Janis takes the bread from her mom and whispers a ‘thank you’, and she bites her lip. Maybe that was a kind of ‘need-to-know-basis’ kind of joke. She flips the phone in her head, her free fingers drumming on her leg as she debates sending a follow-up message assuring them she’s fine.

She’s about a second away from doing so when Cady replies.

‘Enjoy your carbs. I’ll see you later. Xx.’

It makes her smile, but it doesn’t help her breath any easier. She thought that at this point, she’d know where the line is in regard to that kind of humour. That she’d understand that just because her fellow patients are fine laughing at it doesn’t mean her other friends necessarily will be. But her attempts to separate parts of herself into ‘hospital brain’ and ‘normal brain’ have proven unsuccessful so far.

Live and learn, she guesses.

“So I did grab you some pasta,” her mom says as she slides the other container onto her tray table with a guilty expression on her face. She holds her hand up in defence when Janis looks at her, a response apparently written on her face. “Hey, just in case. They even said to take some up to you or it’ll be thrown out tomorrow.” She shrugs helplessly. “Aren’t you the one who loves the environment?”

“Yeah,” she says. She leans over and takes a look. The container is still warm, steam fogging up the lid. Some sort of creamy sauce and green veg over thick strands of pasta. It would look lovely any other day, but now she turns up her nose and moves away from it. “Maybe later.”

“Okay,” she says, tucking into her own dinner. “You know on the way up; I saw that that support group is on tonight. Apparently it runs a few times a week.”

“Is that so?” she asks, paying more attention to her bread than her mom. Behind her, her mom tenses, and she pretends she doesn’t notice. If she wanted to talk about her feelings, it wouldn’t be with her mom, much as she loves her.

“Just keep it in mind if you ever think you need it,” is all she says before turning on the TV. An air as cold as the one outside settles over the room, and guilt mixes in with the nausea in the most unsettling way possible.

It’s not that she doesn’t think she needs a support group. It’s that she already has one; Cady, Damian, her parents. She’s as supported as she needs to be. Plus, all things considered, she thinks she’s doing okay.

She’s not anti-therapy. Hell, she’s been through it and knows she came out the other end stronger because of it. But that was different in a lot of ways. That was her and her therapist, alone in an office, communicating through art. She’s peeked through windows on that support group before, everyone sitting in a circle spilling out their feelings. And that may well be good, but it’s not for her.

Still though, her mom was only looking out for her. She, like her, is doing her best.

“Thanks Mom,” she says. “I’ll think about it.”

Her mom nods and leans back in her chair, her shoulders relaxing as she fills her in on the latest dining room gossip.

                                                                                                   ******

Late on Wednesday afternoon, Janis pulls one of the chairs into the bathroom and positions it in front of the mirror, her various bits of make-up spread across the sink. Not for the first time, she considers just buying herself a mirror and saving herself the trouble. Even if the bathroom does have really good lighting.

“Do you put on make-up every time you talk to your girlfriend?” Maddie asks from behind her. She’s laying across her bed, watching the world upside-down and her legs dangling off the edge. A few minutes ago she had texted Janis complaining she was bored and Janis, sharp as she is, took the hint and asked if she wanted to hang out in her room while she did her make-up. She know that when she was that age, few things made her as happy or as fascinated as watching her older cousins doing their make-up. She would sit in the corner of their rooms with wide eyes, completely captivated by their tricks. And Maddie, apparently, isn’t much different, albeit she’s far more talkative than Janis was at that age. Not that she minds at all. “Like when you’re just going to hang out, do you put make-up on for that.”

“Sometimes, yeah.” She turns towards her, holding up two eyeshadows. “What do we think? The green or the red?”

“Well, what are you going to be wearing?” Janis answers by gesturing to what she already has on; a dark blue top, embroidered with silver stars, and her leggings. Maddie considers, her face scrunched up in concentration, before she replies. “The red. It’ll make your eyes pop.”

“And you claim you don’t know make-up,” she says, turning back to the mirror.

“But do you?”

“Do I what? Know about make-up?” she scoffs, ready to tell her that she’s been perfecting this skill for years, when Maddie interjects.

“No. Like, wear it all the time. Or is it just for your girlfriend?” she asks. Janis pauses, the lid of a tube of mascara half-twisted off. Truth be told, she doesn’t know how to explain it completely without sounding corny, or worse, unleashing her tragic middle-school life on this unsuspecting child. That in some way, her heavy eyeliner and dark lipsticks became her shield when she returned to school after a year’s absence, making her look braver than she felt already. And the habit stuck. Even with that behind her now, she still feels braver when her eyes are ringed in black.

“I don’t wear it all the time,” she answers slowly. “I just… feel better with it on. And I want to look nice for Cady.” Behind her, Maddie nods, a silent ‘oh’ on her mouth. Janis turns to her then, her eyes stern and her grip tight on the back of the chair. “But that doesn’t mean it’s the same for everyone. I wear it because I want to.” She shrugs. “And sometimes I don’t. Like here, I hardly wear it at all. Bigger things to worry about.” She looks pointedly at Maddie. “Make sure that whether you wear it or not, it’s because you want to. Not because you think you have to.”

“Yes ma’am,” she laughs, though whether or not it’s out of discomfort Janis isn’t sure. She jumps off the bed and runs over, her footsteps light and quick, and she comes to a halt right beside her, watching her work with fascination. “When I get a girlfriend,” she declares. “I’m going to do exactly what you’re doing.” She nudges her shoulder. “You’ll teach me how, right?”

“Of course I will,” she says, and it sounds a lot like a promise.

Maddie skips on out of the room when it gets closer for the time Cady’s meant to call, not before making kissy faces at Janis though. She shoos her out of the room but doesn’t even bother to hide her smile as she does so.

She settles herself on the bed and opens her laptop. Cady said she’d call her, but she opens the app just in case, wanting to be ready and also checks her make-up in it. Not a bad job, if she may say so. Glancing up at the clock, she finds she still has a few minutes, so she opens up Twitter and wastes the time there, even if she does check the time every thirty seconds or so, getting more and more giddy each time the number changes. By the time the clock makes it to six, she’s practically squealing.

Cady doesn’t call right away, but she doesn’t think anything of it. She’s probably busy or her clock’s slow or hey, they didn’t say exactly six. Janis is a few minutes late to stuff all the time. So she plays around on Twitter for a few more minutes, filling time until it’s 6:05. And Cady still hasn’t called. Her hand grows cold and curls into a fist at that, her nails pressed into her palm so she can’t bite them. She takes a deep breath, her attempt to distract herself again failing this time. She tries not to overthink it, really tries, but it’s been five minutes. Five. She thinks that’s a line.

Five minutes then turns into ten and that’s when it kicks up a notch.  She bites down on her nail, her eyes glued to the home screen as one single thought takes up all of her mind; that Cady’s forgotten her. That she found something better to do with some other people and went and did that instead.

Janis bites the inside of her cheek, her chest tight and burning with a familiar kind of bitterness. The kind that spits at other people, that shakes her head and tells her she’s better off without them anyway. It’s harsh and hurtful and it shouldn’t be associated with Cady. But it is.

Despite her instinct, she waits it out, giving Cady five more minutes to show up. Fifteen minutes is a good cut-off point she decides. All she can do is watch the clock and it’s a reversal of what she was doing just moments before; here instead of going higher, she only plummets lower every time the number changes. By the time it hits 6:15, she’s biting right into her finger and fighting off the urge to cry, the image of Cady texting someone who isn’t her burning into her mind.

But she finds it wasn’t wrong in waiting. Just before she’s about to shut her laptop off, the little ringing noise cuts through the hair and Cady’s selfie fills the screen.

“Janis!” she gasps. She’s not in her room; the paintings behind her are the ones in the Heron’s hallways. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I was tutoring and I meant to be home before six, but it ran overtime and the bus was two minutes late-” As she talks, the scene changes quickly behind her, moving so fast Janis almost feels sick from it, her feet loud on the stairs until she finally reaches her bedroom. “And anyway, long story short, I meant to call at six, I promise. I just lost track of time.” She looks up at her, eyes big and wide and so utterly sincere Janis feels bad for being upset. “I’m sorry, Janis.”

“It’s okay,” she says. “I wasn’t waiting that long.” If Cady notices how close her hand is to her mouth, or her bitten nail, she doesn’t say. Instead she settles on the bed and props up the phone against a pillow.

“You sure?”

“It’s fine, Caddy,” she says, and it is. Except it sort of isn’t, and she’s not sure if she can say it was Cady’s fault. “Just… text me about it next time?”

“I will. I will. Sorry,” she says again. They both fall quiet after a while, Cady winding a lock of her hair around her finger, and the silence weighs heavily on Janis’ chest. Old anxieties from long ago jump up at her like a dog demanding attention.

“So who were you tutoring anyway?” she asks.

“Oh, this freshman girl,” Cady explains. “Lily Reynolds. She’s sweet, her mom just wanted her to have a little help with calculus.”

“And she got North Shore’s finest,” Janis remarks, the corner of her mouth quirking up, and Cady giggles.

They’re close to fine after that, the conversation almost as easy as it’s ever been, save for how off Janis feels throughout it. She can’t shake it, no matter how many jokes they make or how many cheesy compliments they throw at each other. The whole thing, much as she loves it, feels like it’s two inches off from where it should be, and she doesn’t like that feeling.

They wrap it up after a little over an hour, Cady needing to start her homework and Janis aware that she’ll start an IV soon.

“Sorry I was late,” she says again.

“It’s okay,” Janis assures her. “Really, Caddy. Shit happens.”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I’ll see you on Friday?” Janis swallows and her throat feels like sandpaper.

“Yep. See you Friday.” She blows a kiss to the camera before Cady signs off, her cheeks just about to turn pink. She closes her laptop and sits back, her hands wringing in her lap. She feels like she’s just ran around the perimeter of the ward. She shakes her head as if that can make everything she’s feeling just magically fly off her body and she can suddenly be okay. Like she can forget that for fifteen minutes, she genuinely thought her girlfriend had forgotten about her.

She presses her clammy hands together and bites her lip. Hadn’t there always been this fear, since this whole thing started? That her not being there would take a toll on her relationships and that her friends would become used to her absence and move on with their lives? Find new people, or just fill the gap she had left all on their own? And even if it hadn’t happened this time, it was more than enough to shake her. It had always been there, but it hadn’t been so prominent until now.

She leans forward and runs her hand over her face. She guesses with a sad realisation that this is mainly her cross to bear. She can’t talk to Cady or Damian about this, not without saddling them with guilt. The last thing she would ever want to do to either of them is make them feel like they have to pay attention to her for the sake of it. Besides, how would either one of them, or anyone for that matter, understand something like this?

She leans back on the pillows, about to resign herself, when something on the shelf catches her eye, and she remembers something from earlier. And she realises that if the built-in support system isn’t up to it, she might have to check out a new one.

That’s how she finds herself standing a little down from the longue on Saturday, the nails on her left hand nearly picked clean off of her and her heart in her mouth. She checked the flyer Cassie gave her way back when at least five times this morning, committing the room and the time to memory, leaving no place for error. Cancer Youth Support Group, longue, 2:30pm, Saturday afternoon. Every week. Plus extra sessions during the week.

A voice in her head that doesn’t sound like her tells her to turn tail and go back, make up some story to her mom about changing her mind. That this isn’t her, not what she does and that above all, she can’t do this. She can’t go in there, in front of so many other people, and talk about her stupid insecurities and expect them to get it.

But that little voice fades out, overwhelmed by one that does sound like her, that tells her that even if she thinks can’t do this, she has to try. That she’s okay. And since the alternative is stewing in her own complicated emotions by herself, she strides up to the door, takes a deep breath, and knocks.

The door is opened by a young-ish woman in a yellow polo shirt, the logo she recognises at the cancer centre on the chest. Her eyes grow wide upon seeing her and Janis shifts on her feet. Behind her, a dozen or so kids sit in a circle on plastic chairs, like they used to do in elementary school. Melissa is among them, and she gives her a small smile when she sees her. The tightness in her chest eases at that.

“You got room for one more?” Janis asks and the woman nods, all soft smiles and even softer eyes.

“Always,” she says. “Come on in.”

[kireihan]

give me your fluff headcanons for characters with the current ships when the boys grow animal ears like in the new event plz and thank you, and i pray gacha gods give you satan's cat ears

omg pls i am t h r i vi n g in this event rn 

i dont think i can get satan but i got mammon and i’ll be getting beel ;w;

also the fuck you write for a giraffe bf

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

Usako x Belphie:

if she’s ever purposefully being annoying he’ll slap his tail into her face and watch her fall over or stumble because’s he’s a little shit

usako figured out the speed and rhythm belphie will swing his tail at her so she calculated the right moment before grabbing onto it as she falls and pulls him down with her 

endless cuddling of his tail it’s quite unbelievable really 

belphie will be minding his own business and suddenly there’s a weight on his tail and lo behold it’s usako!! “can you please get off i cant move” “no, you dont wanna move anyways” “valid” so they just lie down in the middle of the hallway and sleep much to lucifer’s annoyance

when usako combs his tail and undoes all the knots, it’s really soothing to him and he falls asleep soon

Reese x Mammon:

oh he has way too much fun with throwing the ball around, while reese has no mean bone in his body, when there is something cute in front of him he will milk as much cuteness as he can out of it

LORD DO YOU KNOW HOW TERRITORIAL MAMMON IS NOW literally be within a 5 feet radius and cue mammon growling noises

once caught mammon doing the thing where you race up stairs on all fours and reese got it on camera before joining him in doing the thing

suddenly bites a lot and randomly?? reese is like “yo dude can you give me a kiss without going carnivore mode and immediately going further thanks im tired and have essay due”

reese bought mammon this arm cuff and meant to give it to him later but didn’t read the description properly and it ended up being for children. except it now fits perfectly on mammon’s tail and mammon is very proud of his shiny tail decoration

Lia x Lucifer:

who’s wearing the fucking collar now huh??? bitch. but he looks good in that collar and chain oop

SCRITCH SCRATCH BEHIND HIS EARS, usually lucifer is so prudish and uptight on the outside but the minute lia scratches his head and behind his ears his tail immediately starts wagging and he leans into her touch

“you were totally liking it.” “no i wasn’t.” “yes you were.” “look i have work to do leave me alone- stop that- hey...woof” “hehehehehehehehe” it’s the softest thing

ALSO TORTURES HIM WITH A BALL lucifer will be vibin not really diavolo did some shit again and doing his paperwork and something will fly across the room and lucifer is up and chasing

is banned from eating chocolate and lucifer can only sit and suffer as he watches lia eat her dark choco bar 

Bernadette x Leviathan:

he was really bummed out about getting an uncool animal with no super specific powers but bern pointed out that he can now laugh at everyone being wack. which he does. and he records it all.

is the most normal out of everyone technically, but for some reason is only able to eat leaves and greens and vegetables and curses his herbivoreness

bern is questioning if he got taller because for some reason it’s harder to kiss him on the cheek?? he did actually get taller. levi isn’t a dick so he always crouches or bends down to let bern kiss him or to kiss bern ;w;

probably the most gentle out of everyone?? literally has no reason to tease or act up so they sit back and laugh at lucifer chasing a ball or belphie deciding yes lets nap here

has a really long tongue now. yes sinner they have taken advantage of this now go find simeon so he may cleanse your mind

Sen x Beelzebub:

he’s channeling his inner belphegor. sleeps like constantly and wakes up to like eat then goes back to fucking sleep again

when he first calmed down and eventually stopped wanting to eat everything, the first thing he did was randomly start rubbing Sen with his head like all over to mark her because who the fuck wants to pee

will walk up to sen and just kick her instead of a normal cheek kiss and she’s like “jesus your tongue is fucking rough” so he’s banned from deep kisses ;w; 

wondering why he has constipation and sen is like “its bc you dont eat your fUCKiNg VegEtAblEs” it’s a constant struggle and suddenly the dude is a kid

beel was fast and strong before. he’s still fast and strong but now like amazingly more so

Yen x Satan:

doesn’t even sleep in a fucking bed anymore only sleeps in box and demands yen come sleep in the box with him and yen is like “?? but thats kinda uncomfy” “its ok you’re small you can just lie on me” and yen is like bruh square up you calling me short- yes he is and he knows he’ll win anyways. dick.

satan was petty before. now he’s even pettier if that makes sense? “satan dont” “you cant tell me what to do” and swipes the thing off the table and yen just rubs her temples and tells him he can sleep in his box alone tonight. she ends up sleeping in the box anyways

BECAUSE SATAN MAY SWITCH BETWEEN MOODS QUICKLY BUT HE’S EVEN QUICKER NOW. one moment he’s grumpy and doesn’t want anything to do with physical affection, next moment he’s all over her, throwing himself over her lap and seeking attention

purrs loudly when she gives him affection and when she draws on his arms while they’re cuddled up in his box next he purrs and its really soothing and the two fall asleep quicker

yen recorded as much as she could and has them saved on her snapchat stories and in her camera roll. he was the cutest thing

[aresaphrodites]

i hope i'm not too late for the sentence starters! if i am just ignore this oop. Archison + "Forget it, you're a fucking asshole."

You’re definitely not too late and can I just say THANK YOU FOR SENDING ME THIS. Archison is my freaking LOVE and the fact that it’s nearly nonexistent is so tragic to me. Almost as tragic as them in this little fic, that I hope you enjoy. ;) 

Archie Andrews stares at the couple in front of him, his heart feeling like it’s going to fall out of his chest. He’s never been a jealous guy. He’s never felt any kind of anger towards any of his exes; not even when Veronica broke up with him for his best friend, Reggie. He had just smiled and told her he understood, because he did. He’s nothing if not an understanding and easy going guy. It takes a lot to throw him off and even more to piss him off. Unless your name is Jason Blossom. 

This thing with Jason was supposed to be just that; a thing. It was one of those things where they’d gotten a little too drunk at a party, were way too comfortable around each other, were way too touchy, and somehow it ended up with them shirtless and kissing in Jason’s bedroom. It should have been just that; a drunken kiss between two, otherwise, normally straight dudes. 

Except Archie kissed Jason again and again and again. He kissed him so much that he can remember the feeling of his lips against his own as he lays down for bed. He kissed him so much that when he’d gotten dared to kiss Toni at another party, he’d chugged a bottle of Vodka instead. He kissed him so much that he knows he definitely is not straight anymore. Archie’s kissed Jason Blossom so much that he’s somehow fallen in love with him. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, either. Cheryl and Toni are a couple. Veronica confessed that she’s bisexual and even Betty had admitted that even though she’s very happily taken, she’s always been open to dating anyone. So really, the fact that Archie’s playing at being straight doesn’t really make sense, but he does it for one reason and one reason only. 

‘If my dad finds out I like guys, that’s it.’ Jason’s cheeks are red from the wind blowing harshly against him, but Archie feels like it might also be because he’s nervous. ‘I’m out of the house, I’m out of the family.’ 

‘Cheryl’s a lesbian and he doesn’t seem to care about that.’ It’s petty and childish and Archie’s fully aware that he’s not being fair, but he can’t help it. He’s so tired of having to watch Jason be the stupid playboy that everyone seems to think he is. He’s so tired of having to pretend that they don’t sneak away for hours just to mess around. He’s tired of hiding. 

‘It’s different for Cheryl. She’s the angel of the family, his little girl. She’ll never be able to do wrong in his eyes. I’m his son, the man who has to lead this family one day, who will have to run the Blossom empire. I can’t do that if I like boys.’ The words sting but Archie just clenches his jaw. 

‘You don’t even want the family business!’ Because Jason’s told him that, because they talk in the late hours of the night as they lay down, wrapped up in each other on Archie’s too-small bed. 

‘I can’t like boys,’ Jason says softly like he’s trying to talk Archie off an invisible ledge. ‘Not publicly.’ 

Which is how he ends up a dirty little secret. He’s used to sneaking around. Mr. Lodge hadn’t liked him, so the majority of his relationship with Veronica had been a huge secret, at least from her parents. He sneaks Jason in and out of his house so his dad doesn’t catch them, even though Fred Andrews is well aware of the fact that his son likes boys. He’d given Archie a lovely speech about acceptance and love and the importance of protection “even if neither one of you can actually get pregnant” that Archie tries to forget about. He’s used to sneaking around with Jughead as they pull pranks on their friends and classmates. So yeah, he’s used to sneaking around, but he hates that he has to lie about Jason being his boyfriend. 

That’s what he is, even if he won’t outright say the words. Jason Blossom is his stupid fucking boyfriend and Archie wants to scream it from the top of the highest building in Riverdale, but he can’t. He can’t tell a single soul. 

“You good, man?” Jughead, the wonderful friend that he is, nudges Archie once he realizes that he’s not paying attention to their group of friends and hasn’t been for a while. 

“Yeah,” Archie whispers and then clears his throat, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from Jason and Polly fucking Cooper, of all people. “Yeah, I’m fine.” But he definitely is not fine. 

Jason isn’t actively flirting with Polly, Archie knows that, but the blonde has her arms wrapped around his bicep as she leans her head against his shoulder. They’re playing beer pong and Polly’s watching Jason like he hung the damn moon when all he’s doing is throwing a stupid ball into a stupid cup. Archie doesn’t understand how he’s even doing that with Polly hanging off of him. 

Betty follows where Archie’s eyes had been and rolls hers once she catches sight of them. 

“God, it’s so annoying, isn’t it? Polly hasn’t shut up all week about how Jason asked her out to the movies.” 

Archie’s entire body goes cold at his best friend’s words. He looks at Betty and she just looks annoyed at the news, maybe even a little grossed out, and Archie can relate because he feels like he’s going to throw up. 

“What?” He manages to get out. “When?” 

Betty shrugs. “I think they’re supposed to go this weekend, I don’t know. Why?” 

Why? Because that’s not part of the fucking plan. Archie stays in the closet for his stupid boyfriend and in return, Jason doesn’t have to worry about any rumors over why he spends so much time with Archie Andrews. That’s the plan. He’s not supposed to go on dates with other people. He sure as hell isn’t supposed to go on dates with Polly Cooper, who is the literal embodiment of an angel. She’s gorgeous, smart, funny, kind, a fucking River Vixen, and she’s the exact kind of person that his parents would approve of. The realization hits him in the chest and he suddenly feels like he can’t breathe. His eyesight is going blurry and he blinks a couple of times to try and make the stupid tears go away. 

“Arch?” Betty’s worried voice rings out. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“Archie!” Jughead snaps when he stumbles out of the chair he was sitting in. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” he finally gets out, but his voice is shaky and not at all believable. “It’s just a little loud in here. I’m gonna get some fresh air.” 

“Do you want me to come?” Betty asks, but both her and Jughead stand up. 

“No, no. It’s okay. I’ll be right back.” 

He turns and runs out of the living room before they can try to question him anymore. He doesn’t want to have to answer to them, or even see them, because he knows that he’ll break down and tell them everything. It’s all starting to get to be too much and he doesn’t know how much longer he can do this for. 

He’s counting his breaths to himself as he sits down on the cold grass when he feels someone come up behind him.

“Archie?” 

He closes his eyes at the voice. He loves that voice with everything in him, in a way he’s never loved anyone else’s, but the excitement he usually feels at hearing it is suddenly replaced with an intense kind of hurt that he’s never felt before. He thinks that might be the worst part of all of this. 

“Go away,” he says petulantly.

“Archie, come on.” Jason sounds exasperated, but there’s an edge to his voice like he’s pleading with him. “Don’t be mad at me. Please?” 

He whirls around to look at Jason and it’s not until he’s finally standing up and facing him, that his eyes start to water again. He’s so beautiful and he’s looking at Archie like he’s the most precious thing in his life and maybe Archie would have believed that at one point, but he’s not sure that he does anymore. 

“You asked her out on a date,” he says and he hates how broken he sounds. 

“It’s not like that,” Jason sighs and he even has the audacity to sound annoyed. 

“Then what is it like, Jason? Please, tell me!” His voice is rising now, but he’s so past caring. 

“Lower your voice.” Apparently Jason is not. 

“How would you feel if you saw me flirting with Veronica right in front of you?” Jason frowns and takes a step back as if the idea of it is too much. “Or what if I asked Kevin out on a date?” 

Jason goes pale, which is funny because he’s already so fucking pale against the moonlight. Archie would laugh if any of this was even remotely funny. 

“You wouldn’t,” he says, but it sounds more like a broken plea. 

“Of course I wouldn’t!” Archie yells, because he doesn’t care. They’re alone outside and the music is so loud in the house that there’s no way anyone can hear them. “Because I love you!” Jason recoils at the confession and Archie smiles sadly. “I’m in love with you, so of course I would never do that.” 

“Archie…” Jason’s looking at him like maybe he can give him the answers to all of this. “Archie, I…” 

“Forget it,” he says, voice resigned. “You’re a fucking asshole, Jason. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend to be just your friend while you go and ask another girl out on a date. I can’t.” 

“What do you mean?” Jason asks, voice coming out slightly hysterical. “Hey, hey!” He reaches out to grab Archie’s hand as the other boy tries to leave. His eyes are wild as they search Archie’s face. “You can’t… you can’t be done, Arch. Please, I just… I need time.” 

“I can give you time. I can give you all the time in the world, but I can’t sit by and watch you flirt with other people and date them too. I won’t do that, Jason. I’m sorry.” And he is. He’s so sorry. 

“Please,” Jason begs. “I can’t lose you, Archie.” 

“But I’m just supposed to lose you, right?” Archie pulls his hand out of Jason’s gently. He’s not mad. He’s just… he’s tired. “I’ve always been yours, Jason. But you were never really mine.” 

A tear falls from Jason’s eye and he opens his mouth to say something, but Archie doesn’t hear him. He’s already halfway gone. 

send me a sentence starter + a prompt 

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, NAY! You’ve been accepted for the role of CRESSIDA with an FC change to Bree Kish. Admin Rosey: I am absolutely shrieking over the fact that we have our beloved, ferocious Celeste back in the group! You have taken the character that has been presented and added a number of layers to her that makes her so completely and utterly unique in her own right. The potential future that you have built up for her has me completely over the moon and there is nothing I am more excited for than to watch her grow -- or fail. Regardless, I’m ready for Celeste to kick ass! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Nay.

Age | Twenty-one & I shall smut plenty, thank you very much.

Preferred Pronouns | she/her.

Activity Level | Active enough? I don’t apply for characters I’m not stupid in love with, so I’ll truly want to explore them every chance I get and activity doesn’t have a chance of being an issue. I’d hedge a bet on being a pretty solid 7 out of 10, allowing for when I’m just too tired for my brain to function to produce any measure of eloquence~

Timezone | GMT+5.

How did you find the RP? | I signed away my soul to it, oops.

Current/Past RP Accounts | I’ve never RP’ed a day before in my life… what are you talking about…?

 IN CHARACTER

Character | CRESSIDA / Celeste Duval

{ NOTE: I’d really like to keep the FC change to Bree Kish, please. There’s just something about the red hair that really fits who I see Celeste as! }

What drew you to this character? | Have I told you how much I love this question? Because I love this question so much. It’s my favourite portion of the application: this opportunity to really go into actual detail about what it is about a particular character that gets you hooked. I so deeply enjoy the way it’s such a particular answer for every character—at least for me—that is very singularly attached to that one character, absolutely due to the fact that there is always a moment where I can’t resist it, whatever it is, the idea in my head or the skeleton, or long-paragraphed biography, or aesthetic concept.

With Celeste, it was empathy, to be completely honest with you. A part of me was already itching to sink my teeth into another character (and let’s just call that a testament to how quickly this group has restored the pleasure of this process for me) and I knew I wanted it to either be someone neutral, or a Montague – but I wasn’t expecting to casually, half-asleep, peruse through a biography & have to sit up in bed, electrified by a ZING! of connection. Let’s call that love at first sight. That’s what drew me to her. I read that biography, and my brain supplied a stanza from Plath’s Lady Lazarus: “Out of the ash / I rise with my red hair / And I eat men like air.”

But that’s a pretty brief cop-out of an answer, isn’t it? So I’ll at least tell you the many things about her that I am so in love with. I’ll tell you the way I love what a woman she is. I love her ferocity, and I love her humanness – which, I do want to clarify, isn’t necessarily not ferocious. I see Celeste as quite the discombobulation of aspects & emotions. When I speak of humanness, I mean that I love how vividly alive she is, and so intensely open to more classically tender feelings of adoration and hurt and sadness, yes, but also the more classically harsh emotions such as jealousy, and anger, and pettiness. I love her willpower, the sheer force of it that has tided her through so much of her life, and how it clashes with that very relatable, very painful internal need to be enough for our parents, to be accepted & loved by them, no matter how much you claim that you can do (and have been doing) without. I love what a sexy, confident, sassy, badass feminist she is. I see her as being extremely sexy, and 90% of that is how confident and unapologetic she is about taking up space. I genuinely just love what she represents.

And I want to be the one who develops her, with an integration of nuances that make her more than just a bold representation, and unravels a story that this wonderful, special baby deserves.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? | As always, this is prefaced with the disclaimer that these are all subject to change, and merely ideas to build off of & give a vibe for the things I’d like to do with this super dynamic character.

→ ONE. The first thing has to be the plotline with Easton. Oh, wow – she wants to slice him like cheese, my friends. I would really like to explore her playing with that, because I think the connection in her biography says plenty: she will exact revenge. Now, I could see this playing out in many, many ways, honestly, but my favourite one is her using Easton’s game against him. He wants to make her feel powerless? Well, Celeste Duval is very, very well-versed in making men feel powerful, when it’s really her who is running the show. I see her, by sheer power of will, being one of those people who gets shit done, and she’s exceptionally clever, or she wouldn’t have made it this far in life with so many odds against her from the get-go. That plotline is something I’m absolutely dying to play around with, because I truly believe that it can be what builds her up or it can be what ultimately undoes her.

→ TWO. This marriage between her & Tomas is absolutely fascinating to me. I very much believe Celeste to be one of those all or nothing! kind of people, and with Tomas, though she feels nothing, it is a relationship that has a very gravitational pull on so many other aspects of her life. It is a representation of the sacrifice she made for parents who have never treated her to a modicum of parental affection, who she swears up & down don’t matter, and still, infuriatingly, very much do. It is a roadblock to a happy ending with a person who Celeste reveres, who is the love of her life and the centre of her universe and the only3 time in her life she’s felt like she is home. I really want to toy with that; I want to see how far Celeste can pull this off before this man can tell that she is not, and never will be, in love with him. I want to see if she’ll get to a point where she won’t even bother to pretend anymore. I want to see the dynamic of their marriage. And I’ll admit – I want him to find out that she has very much not been faithful to him, and then I want to see where she takes that truth.

→ THREE. I would really like to see Celeste reach a place of peace where her parents are concerned. I want to take her on a journey that makes her let go of them, and for her to find love, specifically familial love, in some corner that shows her what that sort of relationship is truly supposed to be. This is because I have this sneaking suspicion that this huge leap could make a sincerely positive wave, and the ripples would spread out to the other areas of her life. Celeste is a very dynamic character, and an extremely emotional one, and I can see her interpersonal relationships having an extreme impact on the direction/mind-set she opts for.

→ FOUR. On a less wholesome note, though, I want to see her choices challenge her relationship with Isabella, too. I want to explore this love of theirs – and I want to stretch Celeste thin about it, making her choose between her reputation, her misplaced sense of duty to her parents, her pragmatism & ambitions, and weigh them against this person she never planned to meet or love. I don’t think there is anything in the world that is more precious to Celeste than what is between herself & Isabella; I don’t think there is anything more sacred. I want to see the lengths she will go to protect it. I want to see what she would sacrifice for it, how much of who she decided she would be she can let go of, how brave she can be, how it can cause her to grow.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Maybe…

 IN DEPTH

IN-CHARACTER INTERVIEW: 

What is your favourite place in Verona? 

By Isabella’s side, she knows, immediate and sure. There's no question about it. The location did not matter; a graze of her fingertips could make a church feel like it was made for sinning, a classroom for falling in love, a street for an exchange of the most intimate of secrets. There is no pause for contemplation. There is no need for questions.

Her smile is a secret — and privately, reverently, Celeste promises to keep it. Her shoulders lift in a careless shrug. “I don't favour places,” she smirks around the unabashed words. “I let them favour me.”

What does your typical day look like?

“Mmm,” the sound is soft, but never makes it to sweet. Gloss coats her mouth thickly, and it has nothing on the syrup drizzle of her words: “I detest the idea of typical. That was never the life I wanted to lead; routine makes me restless, and being restless makes me dangerous. Hasn't anyone told you about cornering animals? Doesn't end well.” And this once, it is not a lie. This is not surprising. There were many things that Celeste Duval could lie about, do it without so much as blinking twice – that was, all those except for those she cared not to.

This was a part of herself she chose not to sacrifice. Celeste refused to be bored. As her much-adored Zelda Fitzgerald had once written, it was chiefly because she wasn't boring. 

What has been your biggest mistake thus far? 

“How much time do you have?” she asks, wryly. The arch of Celeste's brows is sharp, caught between something caustic & amused. It isn't funny – and somehow, that nearly earns a snort of laughter from her. Was her whole life not one? She had been one every day of her life, become who she has because of it. A girl, pretty & useless; only an accessory or tool or toy.

Wasn't marrying Tomas? As if she cared enough for it to be a contender. Was giving her heart up, losing any will to fight off how easy it was to belong to Isabella? Not being careful enough, being caught by the Craven runt? Perhaps not slitting every Capulet bastard's fucking throat on her way out of the cage they put her in? 

Her laugh is poisonous. “There aren't enough hours in the world, mon chou.”

What has been the most difficult task asked of you? 

“Tasks are not asked of me. They are given; synonymous with an order. There is no second or third option; there is no no's or fucking maybes,” the words had all the potential to be serrated, cutting through the poor wretch they were flung at, unflinching. Somehow, they come out patient. Solemn. 

She leaves the answer at that, without truly giving one. Why would she? A lifetime's worth of being deemed weak, and there was a desire for an open admittance of it? HA! Celeste would be damned seven ways to Sunday before she fell for that. “Difficult is a subjective term. I fulfill my tasks; I rise to all challenges – and then, I conqueror them. That is the script I've penned for myself. Learn it.”

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

Capulets. Oh, the very word sets her aflame. It's enough to have her fists curling to white-knuckled bundles at her sides, quivering. Is she meant to forget how they took her, kept her as their little prisoner? Is she meant to forget the way Easton Craven uses the brightest thing she has ever known to solicit dark betrayal from her – using her, just like them, like she was a toy?

“There is one acceptable ending. The streets can run red with their blood. I only hope to contribute to the spillage.” She does not blink.

Extras: 

– pinterest board;

– headcanons:

Due to her mother being French, she was raised on a multilingual education. Celeste is, therefore, fluent in English, Italian & French – though, she automatically reverts to French cooing in situations calling for tenderness, and filthy, crude-mouthed Italian when she is angry.

Once, on her way home, Celeste was halted by a distinct, pitiful mewling sound from beneath a stairwell. A scrappy, runt of the litter, left abandoned, came home with her that day. She calls him Victor – after Victor Hugo.

There is no text in the world that Celeste Duval adores with the intensity she does the Les Misérables novels. Already, she has large chunks of it memorized, and it is not enough to keep her from curling up in a bathtub with one at the end of a hard day.

There’s very little in the world that a hot bath can’t make her feel at least a fraction better about. She spends entirely too much money on bath-bombs.

She deeply, deeply dislikes children. She has zero tolerance for their shenanigans, no thank you.

Though she is categorically partial to jewellery in general, she has an affinity for anklets in particular. It is very rare to see her without one wound around an ankle, typically her left one.

She enjoys a nice trashy tabloid with her breakfast, but she’ll watch some news after a raunchy round of sex.

Celeste thinks about quitting smoking at least once a day. The better half of a decade into the nasty habit, and she has yet to go through with it.

The one part of herself she was insecure about growing up, and the one part she is astonishingly vain about in adulthood is the same: her hair. She cares for it meticulously, for all that it is always in a very deliberate state of dishevelment.

She has an awful, awful nail-biting habit.

[ohmytheon]

It’s (Not) a Date (2/2)

summary: What better way to get petty revenge on his father than blow his money at an insanely expensive restaurant? It’s a good idea in Todoroki’s opinion and the person that will enjoy the experience the most is Uraraka, so of course it makes perfect sense to ask her if she wants to go out for dinner with him. What could go wrong?

notes: Here is the second part to this fic. This was 80% inspired by this tumblr post, which made me laugh for five minutes, and 20% inspired by wellthengetouttathesoupaisle’s Chaotic Rich Kid Todoroki fic, “two hundred and fifty-three black sandelwood bathbombs”. This shit is so fluffy that ya'll are gonna need to go to a dentist after reading. I'm just saying. There might or might not be a third part. I'm tempted, but I can end it here. I do have a lot going on (and the Todochako Fantasy AU that I need to work on, oops), so we shall see. I could've split this chapter in half too, but decided to post it all in one go. Thank you for reading and enjoy!

Todoroki spent the next day focused on his training. He had grown stronger and more capable using both sides of his quirk at the same time, but it was still draining. Instead of focusing on the overwhelming power of his quirk, he’d started to figure out how to use it in more subtle ways. It had proven more difficult than he’d expected, but the sole focus of his training for so long had been on strength. His training was also an excellent distraction. He didn’t even think about dinner until five o’clock rolled around, his stomach an even excellent reminder.

After showering and changing into black slacks and a casual, white button-up shirt, he meandered into the common area to do some light reading. A few of his other classmates were lounging in there as well. It was very rarely empty during the day on the weekends, at least one student occupying the space. None of them bothered him, which was fine with him. As he sat in a large chair, he held a book in one hand and twirled his father’s black credit card absentmindedly in between the fingers of his other.

His father had told him to use it if he thought it necessary. Besides essentials, the last thing he’d used it for had been on fixing up his dorm to his liking. To be honest, his old man hadn’t done anything awful, especially not when stacked up against the massive list of his past transgressions, but Todoroki was irritated just enough to want to do something to piss him off in return.

This was an entirely necessary expense.

“Oh, um- hey, Todoroki.”

Midoriya’s familiar voice cut through Todoroki’s attention on the book, making him lower it and turn his gaze on his friend. “I thought you were visiting your mom this weekend.”

“I did!” Midoriya responded cheerily. He was smiling, but it looked more anxious than anything. He’d gotten better about his anxiety over the past two years, but it seemed like it would always be a part of him. “I was just… Well, I was curious. You don’t have to say anything, of course. I’m not trying to pry. Okay, I guess I am.” Todoroki stared back at him and waited as he tried to gather his thoughts. He still had a habit of talking them out loud. “Are you...excited about tonight?”

Todoroki furrowed his brow. “Excited?”

“Yeah!” Midoriya said. “You know, about going out for dinner with Uraraka.”

“I suppose so,” Todoroki replied evenly. He didn’t think excited was the right word. He was looking forward to it. The food was excellent and Uraraka was always good company. She was cheerful and never seemed to mind filling in the gaps of his silence, like they were there for a reason. Besides, they were good friends, but it’d be nice to get to know her more since the two of them were close with Midoriya.

“Oh.” Midoriya scratched his head, but shrugged his shoulders. “Well, have fun!”

It wasn’t long after he left when Uraraka showed up. As soon as she spotted him, she froze, her cheeks pinker than normal, but then walked in his direction. The smile on her face looked anxious too. It made him want to frown, but he didn’t. He didn’t think he was as intimidating as he’d been before. Maybe he wasn’t the most open person in their class (and he never would be), but he had been trying not to shut people out as it tended to give them the wrong impression. Inasa had taught him that over a year ago.

“Hey there,” Uraraka greeted, all warm and sweet. She waved a hand at herself. “This okay?”

Todoroki slipped the card in his wallet and set his book aside to give her a brief lookover. She was wearing an outfit similar to her school uniform in a way: a modest black skirt, black tights, and brown boots with a thin, snug brown sweater to match. “You look perfect.”

Uraraka blushed even further and stammered out a, “Tha-thanks,” before hastily adding, “You look great too!”

At the couch where Kirishima and Bakugou were playing video games, Bakugou snorted and lightly scoffed, “Fuck, could you get anymore awkward?” without looking away from the television. Uraraka whipped her head around to shoot him a glare that he must’ve seen out of the corner of his eyes from the way he smirked.

“Ah, don’t mind him, Uraraka,” Kirishima said, pounding his friend on the back. “He’s just jealous.”

That did pull Bakugou’s attention away from the game as he indignantly responded, “I am not--”

“Go enjoy yourselves on this lovely evening!” Kirishima interrupted, somehow managing to wave at them even as Bakugou dropped his controller and moved to attack him.

Honestly, Todoroki didn’t know what all that was about, but he wasn’t going to ask either. Bakugou was sometimes hard to understand and then incredibly simple to read. Glancing back to Uraraka, Todoroki asked, “You ready?” and she nodded. He left the book at the table. It wasn’t like anyone was going to steal it and he wanted to read a little more after they got back from dinner.

They left without any fanfare, everyone distracted by Kirishima and Bakugou’s rough-housing. He had made sure to get permission to go off campus beforehand, so leaving wasn’t a problem. Uraraka did seem unusually quiet, but then she might still be tired from her extracurricular training. It was maybe a little uncomfortable, simply because of its strangeness, but he didn’t mind the silence. By the time they reached the train station, neither one of them had said much. He got the feeling that something was on Uraraka’s mind, but she was too distracted to notice that she wasn’t talking.

“Are you sure you wanted to come?” Todoroki asked. He wasn’t nervous about it. If she had said no or that she was busy, it wouldn’t have upset him. It wasn’t like she had to join him on this little, petty adventure. He supposed that it was an unusual and out of the blue request. Maybe she thought it was weird. She had a pretty loving and close relationship with her parents. He’d managed to rebuild his with his mother, but it wasn’t the same as hers. “If you had other plans, I would’ve understood.”

“Oh, no!” Uraraka jumped in to reassure him. “I wanted to come. I was just, um…” She rubbed the back of her head and chuckled. “I was surprised, is all - that you asked me to join you - for dinner, I mean.” They had never really hung out one-on-one before so that was understandable. They’d been paired up before in groups and sat next to each other while eating, but they had always had their other friends around them. “Were, ah, Deku, Momo, or Iida busy?”

“I don’t know,” Todoroki responded honestly. “I asked you first.”

Uraraka’s face did a funny thing, like she didn’t know whether to smile or look confused. In the end, she settled for neither, going with a pleasantly surprised expression. “Oh. Well - thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” Todoroki turned his attention to the map, taking note of which stop they would have to get off. It had been a while since he’d eaten at this particular restaurant, but he remembered where it was well enough. This was the area he’d grown up in, after all. “I didn’t want to eat by myself and I figured you would appreciate it the most.”

“I do like to eat,” Uraraka laughed.

“Besides, it’s a bit like a ‘thank you’ for what you did this week in class. We would’ve lost without you.”

“Nah, you would’ve pulled something out of the bag,” Uraraka insisted, waving a hand at him. “You’re way strong.”

Holding onto the handle over his head, Todoroki gazed down at her. “You’re a lot more incredible than you give yourself credit for. That win definitely belongs to you. Take it.”

After gaping up at him with her lips parted and her eyebrows raised for a few seconds, Uraraka wiped the slightly stunned look from her face, replacing it with a decidedly much more determined one, and nodded. There, that was better. He liked it when she was more confident in herself. He knew that he was strong, but it felt good to help other people see that in themselves. Maybe her quirk wasn’t as flashy as others, but it was hers and he knew that she was going to accomplish so much with it.

“So where are we going anyway?” Uraraka asked, her curiosity taking over. Just like that, any tension between them evaporated. Her grip on the pole she held to keep herself from falling loosened as she leaned against it.

“Just some place I used to go when I was younger,” Todoroki told her.

Uraraka waggled her eyebrows. “Oo, a surprise then. How exciting!”

A faint smile quirked at Todoroki’s lips in the face of her silliness. “I thought it’d be more fun.”

“Aw, I knew you were hiding a more playful side under that calm veneer,” Uraraka teased.

A few minutes later, their stop was called out and the train came to a stop. The two of them swayed with the other passengers, Todoroki bumping into her lightly despite his tight grip on the handle. He murmured an apology, but she pressed her lips together and shook her head. They waited for a few people to get off before pushing their way off the train. She followed him without question as they started to walk on the sidewalk.

“I’ve never been to this part of town before,” Uraraka admitted, looking at the tall buildings around them. “How much further?

“We’re almost there.” They walked another block, took a left, and then Todoroki pointed at the restaurant a block down. “That’s it.”

Uraraka’s jaw dropped. “Todoroki! You can’t be serious!” She spun on him, eyes blown wide with panic. To be honest, that was one of the last reactions he’d been expecting. Maybe shock or excitement, but not full-blown panic like she might start hyperventilating at any second. “You’re joking, right? We’re going somewhere else. You can’t possibly be taking me there.”

“Why not?” Todoroki didn’t see a problem. “I used to eat there like once a month when I was younger.”

“Because it’s incredibly expensive!” Uraraka burst, waving her hands frantically before pressing them against his chest and shoving him back around the corner. He was surprised by her action, but didn’t stop her, not even as she held him there. It was like she was embarrassed to be seen by the restaurant. “I’ve never even been to a one michelin star place. But two stars? Oh my god, Todoroki, this is insane. I’m so underdressed. I look practically homeless compared to their usual clients.”

She did not. It was an absolutely absurd statement and overreaction. “You look fine.”

Uraraka shook her head. “They won’t even let me in.”

“They’ll let you in,” Todoroki reassured her.

Biting her lip, Uraraka peered up at him. There was nothing slight about the anxiety on her face now. “How do you know?”

“Because you’re with me,” Todoroki said before taking one of her hands from his chest and pulling her back around the corner and toward the restaurant.

Maybe she believed him or she simply didn’t have it in her to fight him, too stunned to do anything but let him guide her to the front door. She made a quiet half whimper half groan sound when the doorman eyed them strangely but let them inside anyway. By the time they made it to the host stand, she was practically hiding behind him, using him as a shield even as she gawked at everything.

The maître d raised an eyebrow at them and politely said, “I believe you have the wrong establishment.”

“No, we don’t,” Todoroki responded evenly.

That politeness took a sharp turn, even as he smiled. “I’m afraid this is not a...teen friendly place. I can recommend somewhere more in your price range for a date.”

“I’m well aware of the prices.”

“Then you must also be aware you need a reservation in order to eat here.”

“Yes, hence why I made one yesterday.”

The maître d actually laughed. “You made one yesterday? It takes weeks to get in.”

“It should be under the name Todoroki.”

He went from laughing to pale and shocked in less than a second. As much as he hated the fact that his name was irrevocably tied to his father’s, Todoroki couldn’t deny that it came in handy sometimes. He very rarely used it, if ever, but he hadn’t even tried when making the reservation here. When he had called and asked if it was possible, even though he knew it was on such short notice, the person on the phone had practically tripped in trying to help him, even asking him if he had a specific table, server, or special that he wanted.

“I- I’m sorry. Yes, of course, here you are. Follow me, please.” The maître d was flushed as he shakily gathered two menus. He couldn’t even look Todoroki in the eyes, his own darting to the side whenever he tried. Behind Todoroki, Uraraka was gripping his shirt as they made their way through the restaurant to their table, but there was a much less nervous energy about her. She wasn’t acting like she had to hide from everyone.

“It’s fine, just a misunderstanding.” Todoroki didn’t particularly care about the mix-up. Two teens walking in here was a strange occurrence. Not many kids ate here. He’d been one of the very few to frequent here and only because he was with his father. None of his siblings had been here, as far as he knew. His mom had come once or twice, but that was it. He barely listened as the maître d explained the special, eyes flickering to Uraraka when she mumbled that she’d like a water when asked what she wanted to drink.

With that ordeal over, Uraraka picked up the menu and outright gaped. “This is insane.” She shook her head and set the menu down. “You can’t pay for this. I can’t let you do that. I’m not…” Her cheeks seemed to have taken a permanent red tinge, hiding her typical pink spots. “Todoroki, some of these meals are almost much as my rent.”

“Like I said, I’m not paying for this.” Todoroki pulled the black credit card out of his wallet and set it down on the white linen table. “My father is.”

Uraraka gawked at the card like it was some ancient artifact that might be cursed, but slowly, her expression began to mellow out. She was still staring at it when she asked, “So this is to just get back at your dad, right?”

“Yes, and to hang out with you.”

The smile on her face was strange, almost tremulous as she bit her lip and looked up at him, but then she nodded and picked up the menu again. From all the blushing she’d been doing, her face had to be as warm as his left side felt after using his quirk. “Okay.”

“Is it?” Todoroki asked, wanting to make sure that she truly was okay with this. Maybe he should have told her where he was taking her first, but it hadn’t seemed like a big deal to him, not when the whole plan was to spend a boat load of his father’s money anyway.

“Well, I mean, I am super hungry and we’re sitting down already,” Uraraka joked. He opened his mouth, but then she jumped in to continue before he could say anything, “It’s not like I’m ever going to get this chance again. Thank you for asking to help you with this. If this is you being passive aggressive, I could get used to it.”

“We can go somewhere else next week then,” Todoroki suggested, a restaurant down the street coming to mind. Or maybe they could go to the mall. She hadn’t bought anything there when they had all gone last time, even though he’d seen her eyeing a dress forlornly after trying it on.

Uraraka laughed and teased, “Slow down there, cowboy. We haven’t even ordered from here yet.”

Once their server appeared with their drinks, Todoroki ordered a few aperitifs. Uraraka had giggled over the fancy word for appetizers, which had made their server raise her eyebrow, but she hadn’t hesitated over the price at least. It was the meal that he was more concerned about. When he’d asked her what she was thinking about getting, she brought up the least expensive meal on there, which admittedly was still far out of her normal price range.

“Ignore the prices,” Todoroki told her and she sighed. It was easier said than done. “Think of it this way: the more money you spend, the happier I’ll be.”

“When you put it that…” Uraraka mumbled, hiding behind the menu again.

With the arrival of their aperitifs, all of which Uraraka nearly drooled over, they ordered their main courses. Well, Uraraka was stuck choosing between three different meals, so Todoroki just ordered all three. Problem solved. Both the server and Uraraka had gawked at him, but the server said nothing as Uraraka sputtered incoherently. It wasn’t that big of a deal. His father might blow a gasket after he got his company credit card bill at the end of the month, but just seeing the way Uraraka’s eyes lit up after trying the food made it worth it.

“Is it good?” Todoroki asked.

“Good?” Uraraka repeated with a mouthful of food. She swallowed. “I’m pretty sure this is what they serve in heaven. Did I die in our last hero class? Are you an angel?”

“I don’t think so,” Todoroki told her, a faint but amused smile appearing on his face.

“Honestly, you’re my hero,” Uraraka told him before she tried something different. He knew it was a joke, but she sounded so earnest that it almost made him blush. He didn’t know how to react to that, but her pure joy was infectious and it wasn’t long before he was happily eating the food as well.

By the time the plates were empty and cleared, she’d stopped paying attention to anyone staring at them, be it rudely or subtlety. The conversation flowed effortlessly throughout the entire dinner. As usual, Uraraka carried it for the most part, her friendly nature overpowering his reticent one, but when she asked him questions, he responded without hesitation, even asking a few of his own.

He explained to her how he knew this restaurant and why he’d picked it, but he also told her about why he was angry with his father and wanted to get back at him. She was sympathetic, but didn’t pry when it was obvious that he was leaving some details out of the story. Some of the others in their class might be pushy, but Uraraka seemed content with whatever he decided to tell her. She was easy to talk with, her brown eyes warm with understanding but her words never too presumptuous. It helped that she was so happy and excited. When their food arrived, she insisted on sharing everything so they could enjoy it all.

“Don’t forget about dessert,” he reminded.

Uraraka gave him a mock-offended look, laying a hand over her heart, and told him in a very serious tone, “Todoroki, I never forget about dessert.”

The food was as incredible as he remembered, if not more. Perhaps the different company made it better. Uraraka was a much more pleasant person to eat dinner with than his father or his agency sidekicks. Her laugh was warmer than the food sitting in his belly, her smiles brighter than the crystal glasses they drank from. Somehow, by the end of the meal, their chairs had scooted closer together as they picked their way through the food. Whatever they didn’t finish, they could take back to the dorms. Uraraka was a waste-not type. She was already excited about leftovers, which he found silly since they hadn’t even finished eating yet.

Before he could even order the dessert, however, their server appeared at their table and set it down in front of them, proclaiming, “Compliments of the chef.”

Todoroki shook his head. “I can’t take this for free. Put it on the ticket.”

“He insists,” the server said.

“I insist more,” Todoroki countered in a cool tone. “I want to pay for the hard work you all have done in making this an enjoyable experience for us.”

When the server left, admittedly awkward, Uraraka burst into muffled laughter, hiding her face on his shoulder so that no one else in the restaurant would see. “You’re not even paying for this.”

“I’m not going to use my father to take advantage of this establishment,” Todoroki pointed out. She laughed even harder and he managed a little grin.

When the two of them dug into the dessert, it was just as Todoroki expected. Not only was it delicious, but Uraraka nearly melted into a puddle when she took the first bite. If they hadn’t been in such a fancy place, she probably would’ve moaned a little from how much she loved it, but she promised that she would contain herself. Instead of shoveling it in their mouths, they ate the dessert slowly, savoring every bite until finally the plate was empty.

Having eaten a ridiculous amount of food, the two of them slumped in their seats and rested their arms over their stomachs. Todoroki couldn’t remember ever eating so much all at once in his life. His father had kept him on a strict diet growing up so that he was in tip top shape. The food here was so rich though and not just price-wise. Uraraka wore the most content expression he’d ever seen, eyes closed with a pink face and her lips tilted up in a dazed smile, resting her head against his arm. He had the strange urge to wrap his arm around her, but he kept still and soaked in the warmth of the physical contact.

“Todoroki?”

“Hm?”

“I said it before, but… Thank you. This has been one of the best moments of my life.”

He glanced down at her at a loss of what to say. She didn’t seem to mind his sudden movement, still leaning against him. A powerful warm feeling surged inside of him, almost like an adrenaline rush. Indeed, she looked incredibly pleased. She was a happy person, but the fact that he’d done something that made her this happy struck him as special. It was different than complimenting someone or saving them. It was kind of addicting if he was honest. Could he do it again? Could he repeat this feeling for others? For her? For him?

Would she go out to dinner with him again if he asked her?

“I’ll take the check, please,” Todoroki told the server when she came to clear the very empty plate. Uraraka jumped when she realized that they weren’t alone, scooting away from him and clearing her throat. Before she could look at the check, which he knew she would try to do, he plucked it from the server and slid the black credit card inside without even looking at the total. Endeavor’s pro hero agency could cover this expense. He owed it to his youngest son and more.

Upon getting the receipt back, he made sure to edge away so that Uraraka couldn’t see it. He had a feeling that she had calculated the total in her head anyway, judging from the way she was chewing on her nails. After making sure to put down a ridiculous tip, he waited for the server to come by before handing the black book. He knew how badly she wanted to look at the ticket, but he wouldn’t let her. It wasn’t about that.

Okay, that was kind of a lie. It had started out as spending a shit ton of his father’s money, but it turned into something more. It wasn’t just about blowing money; it was about making Uraraka smile too.

Standing up from the table, he helped pull her chair back and held out a hand to help her out of the chair, even though she didn’t really need it. After all, it was the polite thing to do, especially in an establishment like this. She didn’t blush or flail about in embarrassment. Maybe he should’ve noticed that neither one of them let go of each other’s hands, but it simply slipped his mind, the feel of her small hand and padded fingers in his almost natural.

Their server swung by one more time to thank them, tears in her eyes, and the maître d apologized once more and bid them a goodnight on their way out. This time, Uraraka wasn’t hiding. She waved pleasantly to all the employees, thanking them and asking if they could tell the kitchen what an amazing job they did. Even though they’d been scoffed at, she wasn’t insulted at all and was still friendly. She was a good person like that.

It made him feel warm in a pleasant way, not the kind he felt if he overused the fire side of his quirk, to the point where the cool early spring air barely bothered him. Still, he made sure to switch their leftovers to his other hand so Uraraka was walking at his left. He reached down to grab her hand again and pulled her in close so she could stay warm. The sweater and leggings provided her warmth, but it was easier to gently use his quirk. With the sun having set, it had gotten dramatically colder. She smiled up at him and leaned in, like it was entirely normal for him to allow people this close to him on a regular basis. It wasn’t, but he found that he didn’t mind.

His heart content, mind settled, and stomach full, Todoroki couldn’t find much to complain about. He’d made the right decision when he had invited her. His father would get pissed. Uraraka got a great meal. He was able to strengthen their relationship. It was the best use of his free time by far. He could get used to this feeling. Hopefully she would want to do something like this again. He wouldn’t mind spending more time with her. It was...nice, very nice indeed.

[astrangeevent2002]

Shadow (Young!Sirius Black x Female!Reader)

A/N: This request was so interesting that I just had to do it!!!

Warnings: maybe swearing (I can't really remember)

Word Count: 1,652

Requested?: yasss

Could you please do a Sirius x reader where you and him don't really get along in person but you're quite fond of his animagus even though you don't know it's him. And then stuff happens? Not naughty stuff but cute stuff

Blurb: (Y/N) hates Sirius. And he hates her. But what happens when she tells the cute dog that's been following her her true feelings about Sirius.

It was a normal afternoon. James was hitting on Lily. Remus was reading. Alice and Frank were awkwardly talking to each other. And you... You were in the middle of a very heated argument with Sirius.

What were you arguing about this time? Godric knows...

It didn't really matter. What matters is that you were right and he was wrong.

"But it's not! That's why you're wrong!" you practically yelled at Sirius.

"Geez! Can't you just admit that you're wrong and I'm right?" he replied, getting frustrated.

"No, I can't actually because I'm not wrong. You are!" you jabbed his chest violently.

He turned around and started walking away.

"Where are you going? I'm not done with you yet," you yelled.

"Well I am," he answered without turning around. Then he continued walking.

"Awww. The couple's bickering again," said James.

"We are not a couple!"

"Sure you're not," Lily said sarcastically as James poked your cheek.

You slapped his hand away. "We really aren't! He's just being an ass again."

"Well hurry up guys. I'm hungry," shouted Peter while motioning for all of you to hurry up.

You groaned. Where the hell was it?

You were looking for your shoe. You had one on but had no idea where the other one was.

You plopped on the common room sofa face first.

As you were about to give up and just not go to Hogsmeade you felt something wet touch your hand.

Immediately you pulled your hand away from whatever it was and sat up straight.

Looking at the thing you realised what it was.

It was a dog. An adorable, black dog.

It was just sat there with your shoe in its mouth.

"I'll take that thank you," you said reaching for your shoe.

The dog just moved away from your hand. Just out of your reach.

"Hey!" you stood up and walked toward the dog.

Every time you got closer it moved away from you until you were practically chasing it around the common room.

"Give that back! Right now!" it didn't seem like it was going to stop anytime soon.

Just as you were about to get it you tripped over a cushion that must've fallen off the couch when you stood up. You fell face first to the ground.

You looked up and saw the dog stalking off and out of the common room making a noise that sounded a bit like laughter.

The next few weeks the dog would follow you around the castle and even went to Hogsmeade on the weekend a couple times.

It was like your little shadow. So that's what you decided to call it 'Shadow'.

The first time you called it that it didn't seem to like the new name much but too bad. You liked it.

Also, arguments with Sirius had gotten worse. Now you argued over every petty thing you could think of.

But he was just such a dick sometimes. Well... most of the time.

"Here Shadow!" you called to the dog who lazily walked over to you.

It was a particularly quiet day. Most people had gone to Hogsmeade.

It was just you and Shadow. Sat in front of the fire in the common room.

It was peaceful.

Then you heard a loud crash outside. Immediately you rushed to the window to see what happened.

All you could see was Professor Slughorn covered from head to toe in bright green gunk.

Almost instantly you realised that it was probably the work of the 'Marauders' as they liked to call themselves. You thought that was a stupid name.

You thought of how annoying Sirius was sometimes as you sat back down on the couch.

"You know, Shadow, Sirius Black can be such a prick sometimes. Well, most of the time. But he's not that bad. He can be a decent person some of the time. I'd like him if it wasn't for the fact that he's an insufferable jerk who loves to argue and refuses to admit when he's wrong." you ranted to Shadow who sat in exactly the same place as before.

"Shh guys! You're going to wake her up!" you heard someone whisper shout. The voice sounded familiar.

You felt yourself being carried by somebody but you were too tired to open your eyes.

"Aww! Sirius, you look so cute together!" whispered a voice you recognised instantly. Lily.

With that, you made the effort to open one eye. Looking up you saw a mop of messy black hair and a very angry looking face.

You snuggled closer to Sirius' chest. Wait...

Sirius was carrying you!

As quick as a flash your eyes shot open.

"Oh, you're awa-"

"What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?" you shouted, trying to get out of his grip.

He carefully put you down and started explaining.

"I saw you sleeping and didn't want to wake you up. That's all."

"Oh. Alright then," you replied and straightened your top. "Well, in that case, goodnight," you said.

You quickly turned on your heel and marched off towards the girl's dormitories.

Over the next few days, Sirius had actually been pretty decent. He'd opened doors for you, gave up his seat for you at dinner and even smiled at you a few times.

That's not to say that he'd stopped teasing you. He was just finally civil with you.

That made you suspicious. Very suspicious. But what really gave it away was the argument you had, or rather didn't have, on your way to potions that week.

"Oi! Black!" you yelled down the corridor.

He turned around and you ran to catch up to him.

"What a pleasure to see you (Y/L/N)."

You eyed him up wearily.

"Yeah... Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that your shirt was untucked."

"Oops! I'll fix it now." he said calmly and started tucking his shirt in his trousers.

"And has your hair ever been within 5 feet of a hairbrush?"

"I've been meaning to get a haircut actually." he acknowledged.

"Urgh. What is wrong with you?" you yelled frustratedly.

"What do you mean?" Sirius looked at you confused.

"I mean why aren't you arguing with me? We haven't had an argument in forever. What is up with you? You're being a decent human being now?"

After your rant, Sirius just laughed as you stared at him. Why was he laughing at you?

"Would you like to tell me what you find so funny?"

"You-" he said in between chuckles "you're mad at me because we haven't had an argument?"

"Yeah?" you realised that it did sound kind of stupid when he said it out loud.

"Wow! Now you're being ridiculous! I thought you liked me being nice."

"Why would I like you anyway?" you asked. You had never given any sign that he had a chance of even being acquaintances.

"Well seeing as you like me when I'm not being a- how did you put it? oh, 'an insufferable jerk who loves to argue and refuses to admit when he's wrong'? That's right."

Wait. You had said that. But not to him. How did he know?

"Wait. I never told you that!"

You looked up at him but he was gone.

A few days later you finally thought you figured it out. So you confronted Sirius.

"I know you overheard my conversation," you stated matter of factly as Sirius jumped because of your sudden appearance next to him.

"Could you be a bit more specific? I've overheard a lot of your conversations," he replied.

"Wait! What conversations?" you asked suddenly interested.

"That's private," he answered smugly. "Anyway, what conversation are you referring to?"

"The one I was having with Shadow," you informed him.

"Ah yes. Shadow the mysterious dog I've never seen but you keep going on about."

"She's real if that's what you're implying." you snapped.

"I wasn't implying anything sweetheart but it's funny that you should call the dog a she."

Sirius returned his gaze to the wand in his hand which, quite clearly, wasn't his.

"Why is that funny? The dog is a she so-"

"It's not a she." he interrupted.

"It's a dude?"

"Yeah."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"How would you know anyway? You said you never saw the dog," you recalled.

"Well how could I?" he smirked.

"What?" you were very confused right now.

"Well how can a person see themselves?" he asked before swaggering off and leaving you more perplexed than ever.

"He was being so stupid today!" you said to Shadow. Obviously referring to the bane of your life, Sirius Black.

You explained to her what he did this time.

"And I just don't get it. What does he mean 'How can a person see themselves?'" you said imitating his deep voice.

Shadow just barked.

You stroked the dog gently.

"Well, I'm off to bed. Goodnight Shadow."

You stood up and started walking up the stairs to the girl's dormitory.

You were stopped however by a small, nervous cough.

You turned around and saw Sirius Black stood in the common room.

"What are you-"

"I told you 'Shadow' wasn't a she."

Just as you were about to ask what he means he transformed into the black dog you had befriended. He stalked up to you and licked your hand.

"You're an animagus?" you guessed as he returned to his human self.

"Exactly." Sirius moved closer to you.

"So you heard everything I said about you?" you facepalmed.

"Yes. And you seem to really like talking about me, sweetheart."

Sirius gently removed your hands from your face.

"And I've got to say I didn't mind. At least now I know you sort of like me back."

"Wait-" you let your brain process that. "You-"

"I like you (Y/L/N). A lot."

Before he could say anything else you pressed your lips to his and kissed him like you had wanted to for the past few months. Happy that your feelings were requited.

"Does that mean you'll be my girlfriend?"

"Yes. You dork."

Bonus:

"Hey, Remus, Lily, Peter! Get in here now."

The three others rushed into the common room just as you pulled away from Sirius. You were both startled by the sudden intrusion.

"I knew! I knew it!" Lily yelled, running away before you could stop her.

Tags:

Sirius Black:

@mycobrakai1972

@bear105

Permanent:

@mindofthescattered

@dygalome

@wolfdragon0424

@siriusement

HP Universe:

@hope-became-knowledge

[headcanon-baby]

How about peter maximoff with a curvier reader? like she had some tummy chub on her too and her thighs and arms?

okay i’m gonna be honest i write these headcanons with the every intention that the girl peter is dating will always be chubby bc i am too and i feel like peter is the type who doesn’t really understand the concept of “plus size” or “normal size” he thinks all sizes are no different and acts like the figures of skinny girls and chubby girls are all the same to him which i lkjhgffdasa fuckin love that version of him

- if i didn’t emphasize enough how much peter is a slut for cuddles then i shall repeat: peter maximoff is a cuddle slut and with that in mind he thinks chubby girls are the best girls for cuddling

- peter loves the softness of your skin and the “squishiness” around your arms and your thighs because “squishy squishy squishy…eheheheh don’t kill me pls”

- loves giving you tummy kisses and blows raspberries in your belly button to make you laugh

- he likes pulling and pinching your underarms with the face of pure, innocent adoration that you can’t bring yourself to smack his hand away

- likes hugging you from behind and squeezing your midsection and chuckles whenever he gets the opportunity to squeeze your cheeks

- “princesssss you’re so cuteeeee your cheeks are super cute omfg can i squeeze them please please pleassse”

- you were initially very insecure about having him touch you at all but after awhile you realize peter doesn’t give two shits about your size and thinks your curves and your healthy figure are the most eye pleasing things he’s ever seen

- “sunshine you don’t know how….how gorgeous you are okay? like wow you’re so cute and pretty and hot and you gotta believe it okay? like damn if you were in a porn mag i’d buy every edition with you in it”

- you’re mildly touched and at the same time disturbed by the compliment

- one time he asked you to go jogging with him and you get hit by this irrational annoyance that he thinks you’re fat and indirectly telling you to lose weight until you see his face crumple and asking you in a soft voice “you…you don’t wanna spend time with me?”

- you always deny it but you literally jumped his bones after hearing him say that

- and then you realize going jogging with him is a generally bad idea anyway since his idea of jogging is going about 10 000 miles per hour without breaks

- but its okay because he’ll see that you’re tired and offer to carry you on his back and then he feels your boobs pressing against his back and fucking hits a tree while running

- “OH MY GOD BABE ARE YOU OKAY???” “…heheh….soft…squishy….heheheheheh….”

- whenever you ask him if he thinks you need to improve anything about your appearance he just gives you a blank face and outrightly tells you that he didn’t think it was possible to improve perfection - ASDAFGAHJKJLL YOU FUCKING LOVE HIM OMG

- “you sure? nothing? are you sure? nothing??? at all???” “well, you could probably improve your puns. they’re lame as heeeeck.” “….i’m gonna kill you” “BEEP BEEP GOTTA GO BLAST”

- the best things about being chubby you think is that you have a generally higher tolerance to the cold and you’re like a literal walking human heater so when winter comes around westchester peter ends up holing up with you in your room for a whole month clinging onto you like a needy koala

- “that’s not fair wth i’m cold and you’re warm why do you get hotter when i hug you??? how???” “….peter was that a pick up line?” “yes”

- peter sincerely thinks your mutation is actually “having an really hot body” and you have to slap some sense on to him every time because he keeps telling everyone that your mutation is that “you’re hot”

- “GUYS MY GIRLFRIEND HAS THE COOLEST POWER EVER Y’ALL KNOW THAT SHE’S HO -” “PETER STFU”

- he catches you reading dieting journals and freaks out and immediately grabs you by the hips and hugs you and rants on about how you don’t need to go on a diet no, no, no stay healthy and cute forever pls sunshine i love you so much

- and then you tell him you were just looking at salad dressing recommendations to buy for tonight’s dinner and he just goes “oh” and his face bursts into and obscene red

- he actually secretly wants you to gain more chub because he thinks you look cuter chubby and you only found out because jean looked into his mind by accident and told you about it

- “…i am going to find my boyfriend and kiss the living badongers out of him”

- jean is very disturbed by the two of you

- there’s a weekly chore rotation for students staying in the mansion and one week you and peter were in charge and honestly worst decision ever made because peter lost the shopping list and got distracted by free samples and and you got distracted by him getting distracted and the both of you ended up with double things you had on the list and half of it not even on the list

- “can one of you please explain why we have 5 types of sausages and two months worth of cat litter when we do not own or even want to own a cat”

- “i mean, we could always like. get one. you know. a cat. we could call it salad”

- charles is never giving peter responsibilities ever again

- you’re a foodie and proud. so when you see what peter’s daily diet consists of you give him this horrified look and you’re like “peter, i am going to make you a fine ass meal so good you’ll never have to live on twinkies ever again”

- you make him pasta salad, bratwurst sausages and mash, cream stew with finely chopped carrots and caramel pudding for dessert

- after tasting he looks at you like you’re his cooking goddess and you’re pretty sure he’s about one second away from asking you to marry him

- "princess…you’re a genius.” “thanks. i try.”

- he still eats twinkies whenever you’re not around because damn twinkies are great okay don’t judge

- in return peter likes to bring you out to food spots and dessert cafes just to watch your face light up at the sight of delicious food and always ends up staring lovingly at you while you eat 

- “peter your ice cream’s melting” “h-huh?? oh yeah welp oops shit shit shit fuck”

- peter’s faaaaavorite thing to do is feed you. likes offering his cake to you and watching you take a bite out of it and grinning and going “mmmm!”

- he sometimes blushes while watching you eat because you make the most obscene sounds ever

- then there was one time you went to really fancy cafe and there were two girls who were staring and giggling at your direction and making little cutting comments about your size and peter could see that you were trying not to look affected and in like less then a second there were shrieks coming the girls’ table and you were like wtf and then looked at peter who was just smiling innocently at you like nothing ever happened

- “jesus christ peter what did you do???” “nothin’. just thought that cake would make a great foundation for their face” “….god i fucking love you.”

- peter maximoff is a petty, petty man. and you love him for that

again please let me apologize from deviating again like wow how do i even get these ideas from wtf REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[mecha-cat]

You good fellow are an inspiration for people. Many would be turned away by such a community being so picky. It's always nice to see your posts shutting down some of the ideas that go around. You may post many different things, but they are all great, and your blog is one I'm so glad I followed. Hope you have a great day. ^^

Thank you so much. I’m glad I make some kind of difference to somebody in this digital ocean of piss. Sorry but I’m so goddamn SALTY about shit like this BOY HOWDY

And GOD...it’s just so fucking unproductive to do this to other people in any community. I’m just so old and so, so tired of this petty gatekeeping nonsense. I wasted so much of my life so far hating the ever-loving fucking out of myself and I finally don’t so much and I finally kinda maybe have money and I’ve wanted to do this fashion crap for a literal decade. I’ll be damned if some soulless, lacy trashbag wants to ripe me back down. There’s no purpose to this crap other than earning circle-jerk brownie points and potentially making yourself feel better at the expense of others. Which itself is also pointless masturbation.

I’ve been sick for a long ass time but I’m still a professional multimedia artist. I still specialize in a literal tl;dr list of materials. I’m by no means a master sure but fuck if I can’t just teach myself off the internet or a library visit. I’ve been making costumes and clothing for long enough to know that there is absolutely no different from a brand blouse and an H&M blouse you thrifted and altered. All that matters is that it looks good with the kind of SK/JSK/OP you’re wearing and you fit right in it. I personally am naturally built like an hourglass that forgot what it was doing. Honestly I’m fucking STACKED and oops, even binding doesn't help me fit in almost every plus-whatever sized brand blouse I’ve tried on. I guess I’ll go fuck myself as a flip through my local thrift store.

And that’s the thing, brand sizing generally sucks for anyone that doesn’t fit a very specific body shape anyway so I’m surprised DIY isn’t enthusiastically recommended. I'm also personally not too keen of spending an extra wadge of cash on literally nothing more then a name on a tag. Sure good quality and strong designs are worth good money and since it’s a niche market there’s going to be high prices regardless. But $400+ for a single dress I won’t be wearing on a regular basis can literally eat my actual asshole. Don’t get me wrong, I do see these dresses as art canvas you wear and display and enjoy and I AM willing to spend money on that. I also, very personally, know the soul crushing pain these fuckers take to make. The issue is that I’m finding better designs, equal quality, AND more sizing options with indie brands. And fun fact, supporting independent artists helps the market thrive AND diversifies individual collections. There’s a reason people are having a hard time reselling brands on LM and actually making their money back. The damn market is not only cannibalizing itself by driving new people away but the damn price tags and sizing don’t entice shit.

Sure critiquing is important in order to improve and learn but this I T A name calling shit’s not even close to that. It’s usually just a bunch of folks pointing at younger people (usually teenagers) and nitpicking either literally taste differences or ripping them to shreds because they look like a “normie” or whatever other idiot reason. Sometimes there IS constructive observations but it’s like eating tub of mud to find the pearl. 

This kind of attitude is also terribly prevalent in the cosplay community too and why I took some time off. Like can we stand back for a literal real ass moment and realize that we’re dressing up like cupcakes, and superheros, and maybe even green dogs in fucking public because we want to experience this human emotion called JOY. Sure some people are shitty. Sure you put a lot of time and money and blood into your amazing outfit. ENJOY THAT!!! Enjoy other people enjoying it. Enjoy interacting with other living beings or the sun or whatever the fuck gets you off. But if you have to step on other people in order to enjoy your hobby, what the fuck are you doing with yourself?

[literaphobe]

Hi! My native language isn't english but I would like to take part in the team effort to reach 100 fics until the end of 2017 !! I would like some ideas if you could tell me some!

YES I AM HERE FOR THIShere are a bunch of fic ideas for dianetti i thought of- and i haven't even touched AU ideas yet. Pls write dianetti fic?? Let's use the hiatus period to bring the number of fics in the Rosa/Gina tag on AO3 to 100 okay These aren't the best ideas but i tried

Jake meets Rosa in the academy, and they become good friends. Gina decides to visit Jake at the academy to see if there're any hot people worth her time in his group. She finds one. It's Rosa.

Gina accidentally texts Amy for the first time, thinking that she's texting Rosa for the first time, because she got drunk. Amy tells Rosa about it, and Rosa's surprised because Gina didn't seem to know anyone existed apart from herself, so she confronts Gina about it.

Gina and Rosa get drunk, watch basketball, and then....

How Gina finds out that Rosa's into old movies AKA they watch movies together, and somewhere along the line Gina realizes there's a pattern to Rosa's suggestions. But it doesn't matter to Gina what they watch as long as Rosa's tipsy enough to drunkenly drape an arm around her shoulder or use her boob as a pillow. What? Rosa's hot, sue her.

Just like how they had a huge debate on which pie was better, what other petty things can you think of that Gina and Rosa disputed over which got so big most of the precinct got involved?

Someone calls Gina out for drinking Rosa's coffee/other food/drink item. This leads everyone to the realization that Gina is the only person that can/has ever gotten away with drinking/eating Rosa's food/drink.

After Rosa and Amy put in better security measures in Gina's apartment, Rosa teaches Gina how to use a gun so that she can protect herself. Except Gina's hella reckless and eventually Rosa has to wrap her arms around Gina's to guide her shooting. Oh wait, that was Gina's plan all along?

Babylon. Anything regarding it. The story of how Rosa told Gina about her secret bathroom? How Gina and Rosa decorated Babylon together? Did they go shopping together for weird crystals and scented candles and 3-ply toilet paper to make Babylon the sacred place it is today?

"Forget your ex with meaningless sex." How Gina offers this to Rosa every time a relationship of Rosa's goes to crap. How it gets harder and harder for Gina to offer said "meaningless" sex because over time it means something to her and it hurts even more each time to see Rosa get together with someone that isn't her after that, the only source of comfort being that they might break up and Rosa would yet again crawl into her bed over shared bottles of wine and lots and lots of tears that Gina secretly sheds but Rosa's too drunk to remember.

When Rosa finds out about Boyle and Gina hooking up, she gets grossed out. And also very jealous.

Gina wills Rosa a statue of two jaguars making love because she sees it as a representation of them; or what they could've been. Rosa finds this out when she asks Gina why the hell she left Rosa anything in her will in the first place.

"I was insulting her. You know, flirting."

Gina follows Rosa home after giving her the "Rosa's Gonna Make This Flu Her Bitch" care package, because despite her fear of getting infected by Rosa's germs she finds herself strangely overcome with worry. Rosa catches Gina following her home but she's too sick to stop her. Gina feeds Rosa sips of hot cocoa and bites of crackers (from the care package she made) and she even tucks Rosa in her bed so she can sleep. Gina ends up with the flu- but when Rosa returns the favor and takes care of Gina it's all worth it.

Gina and Rosa getting drunk together, because Amy's not the only one who becomes a bit of a pervert after a few drinks.

Gina and Rosa teaming up to achieve a common goal, and how they slowly realize they enjoy their little plans and talks and banter more than taking down whoever they're up against. Okay, maybe both alternatives are equally satisfying. But then sometimes when Gina's describing a ridiculous idea Rosa gets this strong urge to kiss her. Which she acts on.

Gina invites Rosa to go to Beyoncé's concert with her, since she has more than one ticket. "What? These tickets were my birthright, but we took Terry and Amy down together."

How Rosa deals with Gina being gone when Holt gets transferred to PR and Gina follows him; Because Babylon's just not the same without Gina, all those hours they spent hiding out there together, taking a break from being in the presence of losers- it all seems so far away and Rosa misses Gina a bit too much, the world seeming duller when Gina's not there to light up the room.

Rosa and Gina unconsciously spending the entire day of the funeral together, neither of them willing to admit how much they've missed each other.

Gina and Rosa dressing up in matching costumes for that Halloween prank they play on Charles. They may or may not end up going trick or treating together in said costumes after getting drunk on Halloween night.

Gina and Rosa facing off in an illegal dance competition in an abandoned subway tunnel.

Alternatively, Rosa wins an illegal motorcycle race in which Gina's love is the prize.

Rosa being very very worried about Gina during the hostage situation in the store, a bit too worried. Gina's not complaining though. "Hey Amy gave Jake a kiss for not getting killed in that store. Don't I get one too?"

When Rosa and the perp spend an hour "complaining" about Gina, Rosa realizes the dude's a little hung up on her. Rosa can't blame him, she has a little thing for Gina too. Who knew it took watching Gina slamming a few tables and her talking about Gina for an hour to realize it?

Gina and Rosa lock Amy in the back of her car for 47 minutes; 17 minutes longer than they actually needed to. What did they do during that time?

When Holt hires Gina to direct a video about their precinct starring himself and Rosa, Gina tells Rosa she has to sit on a wheelchair as if she's riding a horse. "This is weird. Stop telling me to spread my legs wider." "That's only because I know you can spread them wider, Rosie."

When Rosa starts dating Pimento, Gina gets a perfect view of the guy who temporarily takes over Jake's desk. She hopes that if she glares at him enough, he'll go away and stop dating Rosa like a jackass.

Gina runs away with a drugstore cashier on the night of Rosa's bachelorette party. She's tired of pretending to be happy about the love of her life marrying someone else, and sue her, but that drugstore cashier's a splitting image of Rosa.

Gina may or may not have spied on Rosa while she did yoga. "I can see you, Gina." "Good, I've been here for an hour- was starting to think you're a bad detective." "You've been standing there for two hours. And I'm a great detective." "Oops, busted. Why didn't you call me out earlier?" "I wanted to see how long my ass would keep you interested."

When Gina falls and supposedly knocks out her two front teeth, Rosa gets very worried. Too worried.

Gina and Jake help Pimento find his grandmother's earrings, except everything keeps going wrong and he sees it as a sign that Rosa and him aren't meant to be. Gina encourages this, because she doesn't want Rosa and Pimento to get married- oh wait sorry that's exactly what happened in canon.

Gina gets run over by a bus, and this devastates Rosa to no end. In which everyone realizes Rosa's in love with Gina before either of them do.

Rosa's desk faces Gina's head on. She stares at Gina more times in a day than she'd like to admit.

[noonachronicles]

Oops I sent the massage by mistake lol. Btw can you do GD with 60 and 62, please? :D

Word Count: 1.6k

Warning: Language, Smut, Jealousy

Authors Note: Prompt request - “If you can’t sleep… we could have sex” & “Are you going to talk to me” I feel like GD requests are a trap…You guys know he is my weakness. 

It was four in the morning when you shuffled out of the bedroom. You hadn’t been to sleep yet, despite how tired you were. Since you started dating two years earlier you always struggled to sleep when you were fighting. No matter how ridiculous the argument was.

Jiyong was sitting on the lounge chair, his cat sitting on his lap, ankles crossed as he scrolled through his phone. Ai jumped from the the chair when he saw you and cat stretched his way across the floor before twisting around your legs, his tail brushing your shins playfully.

“At least someone still loves me.” you said squatting down to run your fingers between his perky ears.

Jiyong stayed silent, still scrolling through his phone. Yours had been his longest relationship so you knew that there were certain pressures that he put on the both of you, you had more than experienced that. Sometimes his expectations of you were irritating but he also happened to be the love of your life and there were just certain things that you had to tolerate when you were in love. Or maybe you just had the patience of a saint as you taught him how to be in an actual relationship.

You spent some time focused on the cat, rolling him over on his back to rub on his belly. His paws wrapped around your forearm playfully. You smirked when you looked up to see Jiyong smiling over at the two of you.

“Do you want a belly rub too?” you asked. His pout returned and he looked back at his phone. You sighed and laid down on your back, stretching out over the living room floor. “Are you going to talk to me?”

He said nothing. He looked as tired as you felt but he was also incredibly stubborn. More stubborn than anyone you’d ever met before.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you tonight.” you said for the fifth time in the last eight hours. “I’m not going to apologize for having a crush on him, Ji. I don’t have to. Thinking someone else is cute does not make me a monster.”

“You were flirting with him.” Progress. “You were flirting with him in front of everyone and everyone noticed.”

“I wasn’t flirting,” you argued, “I told him I liked his new album. Which I do.”

“You touched his arm.”

“I’m sorry.” You were officially exasperated.

“He watched you walk away.”

“You mean he watched me when I walked away from him to go back to you like I always do? Because I always come back to you. Always.”

He stayed quiet. After so many of these petty arguments you could tell he was coming around. Yes, you had made the mistake of talking to another idol from another label. And, sure, maybe you had been a little flirty with him. However, your intentions were innocent, you knew the entire time you talked to him that nothing was going to happen. Not to mention you had apologized profusely the moment you realized that Jiyong was upset by it.

“Do you at least want to go to bed?”

“I’m not tired.”

“If you can’t sleep… we can have sex.”  He scoffed at your suggestion. “You know I can’t sleep when we’re fighting.”

“I feel so terrible for you.” he feigned disinterest.

“I guess if you won’t help me, I’ll just have to help myself.” You said seductively.

There was still no reaction. You weren’t going to pout about it. If he really wasn’t interested then at least you would sleep better, if he was interested then argument over. Either way it was a win.

You looked back over at him, he was looking at his phone but you could tell he was watching you, curious about what you were going to do. His face was clean shaven tonight for the party. So you closed your eyes and pictured Jiyong a week ago. He’d come home from a late night out with Seungri. Stubble had lined his jaw, his hair was messy, his bangs falling into his eyes. He smelt like bourbon, cigarettes, and Gucci cologne. He woke you up when he got home with rough hands and a rough mouth.

Slipping your hand up your sleep top you thought about how hungrily he’d kissed you that night. He had fisted his hand in your hair. You moaned slightly just at the memory of his hands on you as you massaged your breasts. You squirmed on the floor pressing your thighs together in hopes of finding a satisfying friction. You moved one hand down into your pajama pants, started to rub yourself over your cotton panties.

“Oh, Daddy.” you whimpered thinking about the way he’d pressed his thigh between your legs, grinding it against your sex.

“Stop.” You opened your eyes to present day Jiyong stroking himself as he watched you. “Take the pants off and sit up against the table so I can watch you properly.”

You sat up from your laying position and scooted over to the coffee table. You pulled off your pants and panties, tossing them to the side. He nodded silently as you spread your legs for open for him. Closing your eyes again you dipped your fingers into your still wet opening. Your hips rolled into your own hand, the heel of your palm pressing against your swollen clit. Your climax was nearing already. You were so efficient at pleasuring yourself.

“Who are you thinking about?” Jiyong asked, “Who is making you that wet?”

“You, Daddy.” you said with a tiny yelp.

“Then be a good girl and look at me when you cum.”

Opening your eyes you bit your lip, your fingers curled and uncurled as you pumped your fingers. Jiyong’s gaze was intense. You briefly caught sight of his thick erect cock with its tip glistening with precum before he locked eyes with you. You didn’t dare look away, you knew better. Your thighs snapped around your arm as you inched closer to orgasm.

“Open your legs.” he demanded. He didn’t even break contact with your eyes as you slowly reopened them, “God, look at you, about to cum for me. You always look so beautiful when you cum.”

“Oh, fuck.” you gasped, you were absolutely desperate for him and he knew it.

He kicked off his pants and crawled over to you. His lips tickled your neck as you persevered.

“Come on baby, give it up for me. Give Daddy what he wants.” he licked from your shoulder to your ear sending shivers all over. Digging his hand into your hair he pulled your head back so that you were looking into those eyes again. “Cum right now and I’ll fuck you.”

Your thighs quivered as you tightened around your own fingers. He stared straight into your soul as you came for him and then slammed his mouth against yours in an urgent kiss.

“Are you still mad at me, Daddy?” you asked as he pulled away from your lips.

“Shut up and bend over the table.”

You scurried onto your knees in front of him, anxious for him to finally be inside of you. He didn’t slip himself inside of you right away. Instead he lifted your tank top over your head and dragged his teeth over your back leaving little bites sporadically across your skin.     

“Jagi…” you whined.

His palm landed heavily on your ass as his teeth dug into your back, “What did you say?”

“Fuck- Daddy please.” you begged, “I need you.”

“I’m right here baby. What do you need?” he teased.

“I need you to fuck me. I need your big fat cock so bad.”

With that he sunk into you, but it wasn’t sweet or very pleasant. He was still pissed. His hand pushed your chest and face against into the cold glass, no doubt leaving smudge marks of your breasts and cheek on the table, again. You made a mental note to clean before having visitors over.

He slammed into you from behind, rough and fast. The sharp edge of the glass table digging relentlessly into your hips. You gritted your teeth and took it without complaint. He wrapped your hair into his fist and pulled you up so you were flush against his chest. He bit down on your shoulder hard until you cried out.

“Whose pussy is this?” he asked panting against your ear.

“Yours. Fuck. It’s yours. I’m yours.” you groaned as he bit you again, marking his territory.

“Then why does my baby stray? Am I not good enough? Maybe you think I don’t treat you right?”

“No, I don’t think that I promise. You’re so good, Daddy. You treat me like a queen. I love you so much.”

The more you fed his ego the faster he got, the closer he got. “I don’t ever want to hear you mention Zhang Yixing again. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” you grunted.

His hand crept up your neck, wrapping tightly around it. “How do you answer me?”

“Yes, Daddy, I swear.”

“Good fucking girl.” he said as he pumped you full of his orgasm.

When he released your hair from his grip you slumped forward onto the glass again. You brushed your fingers gently across the teeth indention in your shoulder.

“Fuck, Jiyong. How do you really feel about it?”

“Sorry jagi.”

“You’d think I sucked the guy off or something.”

“Try it, see what I do to you then.”

“What, murder me?” He shrugged, picking up the loose clothes, “Jiyong, look at me.”

Now that the intensity had dispersed you could see the self doubt in his eyes. It broke your heart to see it.

“You know tonight meant nothing right?” you asked seriously, “I hate to feed your ego further, but it’s clear I need to remind you that you are literally my entire universe.”

A small sweet grin grew on his face, “Who? Me?”

You glared at him and stood up, walking towards the bedroom.

“Where are you going? I thought you couldn’t sleep without me!” He called down the hall.

“You exhaust me!” you called back.