#i bent the page while erasing

[paintstainedpages]

Unravel

Pairing: Art Major!Hyunjin x fem!OC

Genre: College AU, Slowburn Romance, Angst, Smut, Toxic Romance

Warnings: Emotional manipulation, suggestive themes, mild language

Chapter 8: Echoes of Conviction

>Chapter 7

———————————————————

Daphne, 1:15 pm

Daphne was trying.

Trying to go back to her normal life, her structured existence, her predictable, Hyunjin-free reality.

But the problem?

She couldn’t.

Because he lingered.

Not in the romantic way—oh, God, no. There were no butterflies or dreamy sighs. Just annoyance. Confusion. A frustrating, nagging feeling that he had slipped into her head like a virus.

And now, no amount of rationalizing could erase the fact that she kept replaying moments from their interactions.

How he lied about class so smoothly, as if reality bent to his words.

How he added himself to her contacts with no hesitation, as if that was just a normal thing to do.

How he sketched something so deeply melancholic, only to brush it off like it was nothing.

She didn’t like it.

But she also didn’t know how to ignore it.

She spent the afternoon distracting herself with assignments, caffeine, and the comforting delusion that she was totally fine.

And now, as she walked into class, she fully intended to keep up the act.

But then she saw her friends.

And realized they looked like absolute shit.

She slid into her seat, dropping her bag beside her, and glanced at the war zone that was Maya and Ethan.

Maya, her ankle bandaged from the Christopher Incident™, was sprawled across her desk like she had just been through combat.

Ethan, on the other hand, looked like a Victorian child recovering from consumption.

Dark circles. Pale complexion. A haunted stare directed at nothing.

Liv, the only other functioning human here, sighed deeply. “Don’t ask.”

Daphne didn’t need to.

She already knew.

“You look like you lost a battle.” She glanced at Maya. “And you look like you lost a war.” She turned to Ethan.

Ethan didn’t respond. He just slowly turned his head, blinking at her like a man who had seen things.

“I was in an emergency room, Daphne.”

Daphne, deadpan: “Yeah. Because of your own choices.”

Ethan inhaled sharply, then dropped his head onto the desk, dramatic and near death.

Maya grumbled, shifting slightly. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“Oh, really?” Daphne arched a brow. “Because I remember you loudly declaring your mission to seduce Christopher Bang.”

“Pursue,” Ethan muttered weakly into his sleeve. “She said pursue. Like a goddamn Shakespearean character.”

Maya groaned. “Please. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Daphne held up her hands. “Fine. But I just want to say that your decision-making skills were questionable at best.”

Liv chimed in, tone exhausted. “Thank you. Someone had to say it.”

Maya pouted, rolling her eyes. “You all are so unsupportive.”

Daphne just shook her head, exhaling.

These were her friends. Absolute disasters. But hers.

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

Daphne, 1:30 pm

The professor’s voice droned on, weaving through the classroom like background music in a film Daphne wasn’t paying attention to.

She should have been listening.

She should have been taking notes, absorbing whatever knowledge was being handed to her, nodding along like an engaged, responsible student.

Instead—she was staring at her blank page.

And the problem was not the class.

It was her own damn brain.

Because somewhere between the professor’s breakdown of media ethics and the soft scratching of pens against paper, her mind had done something completely unnecessary—

It had wandered.

To him.

Hyunjin.

She frowned.

It wasn’t intentional. She didn’t want to think about him. She had far better things to do than replay past conversations with a guy who lived off of arrogance and artistic melancholy.

And yet—

His voice was there. The way he smirked like he knew something she didn’t. The way his fingers moved across the page, sketching something raw and chaotic while acting like it meant nothing at all.

Daphne exhaled sharply through her nose and forced herself to focus.

Her professor was talking about journalistic integrity. This was important. This was her future.

Not some random, detached art student with a talent for making people feel unsettled in their own skin.

Daphne gripped her pen tighter and scribbled something onto the page.

She needed to get a grip.

It wasn’t Hyunjin.

It was her.

That had to be it.

Her life had been on autopilot for years—structured, responsible, predictable. And then suddenly, there was a shift—a disturbance in the force, if she wanted to be dramatic about it.

A single moment that made her aware of the monotony she’d been living in.

Hyunjin wasn’t the problem.

The lack of action in her life was.

That must be it.

She tapped her pen against her notebook, trying to convince herself she was right.

But the fact that she was still thinking about it?

Yeah.

She wasn’t entirely convinced.

The universe had a cruel sense of humor.

It waited until Daphne was thoroughly immersed in her own thoughts—thoughts she should not be having, thoughts she was actively trying to bury—to strike.

One moment, she was somewhere else.

The next—

“Daphne.”

She froze.

The professor’s voice cut through the air like a knife, and suddenly, thirty pairs of eyes were on her.

Daphne blinked.

Slowly.

Like her brain was buffering.

The silence stretched.

Then—

“Would you like to elaborate on that point?”

Elaborate.

On what point?

What had they been talking about? Media ethics? News bias? The moral compass of investigative reporting?

Her mind, currently orbiting the memory of Hyunjin’s smirk, had zero clue.

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.

She cleared her throat. “Uh—”

Nothing.

Her brain was a deserted wasteland of information.

She could feel the judgment radiating from the professor. Could hear Maya, still slumped beside her, muttering something about waking her up when life stopped being painful.

And then—

A miracle.

From her right, Ethan—her personal, barely-surviving guardian angel—whispered something under his breath.

The answer.

A direct lifeline.

Daphne, not missing a beat, repeated it word for word, keeping her expression cool and composed.

The professor nodded, satisfied.

Daphne exhaled discreetly.

She was safe.

She was fine.

Her pride was only mildly bruised.

Ethan, however, leaned over, grinning through his misery.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” His voice was hoarse, exhausted. “You can repay me by making sure I don’t die after this class.”

Daphne didn’t even register the comment.

Because she was too busy being irrationally pissed off at herself.

What the hell is wrong with me?

She wasn’t like this.

She was sharp. Focused. Always present.

She did not get called out in class like some freshman zoning out for the first time.

And yet, here she was.

Losing her grip, piece by piece.

And all because of him.

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

Daphne, 2:20 pm

The moment class ended, Daphne barely had time to grab her bag before it happened.

A presence. Three, actually. Closing in. Fast.

Ethan on one side, leaning against her desk like he had all the time in the world.

Maya, injured ankle and all, propping herself up like a woman on a mission.

Liv, arms crossed, silent but dangerous.

Daphne blinked. “Uh.”

Ethan sighed dramatically. “Alright. Talk.”

Daphne blinked again. “…Talk?”

Maya rolled her eyes. “You know exactly what we mean.”

Liv simply raised an eyebrow, waiting.

Daphne inhaled. This was fine. She could handle this.

“I went home.” She shrugged, feigning casual indifference. “Like a responsible human being.”

Silence.

Then—

Ethan snorted.

Maya narrowed her eyes. “You mean Hyunjin took you home.”

Daphne froze for half a second too long.

Ethan, despite looking seconds away from passing out, immediately perked up. “Ohhh. So something did happen.”

Daphne exhaled sharply. “Nothing happened.”

Maya, unimpressed. “And yet, you’re being weird about it.”

Liv, finally speaking, “You haven’t looked any of us in the eye since class ended.”

Daphne cursed internally.

She should have known they’d pick up on that.

Ethan smirked. “Okay, so walk us through it. How exactly did you end up in his car?”

Daphne hesitated. Bad move.

Maya’s face lit up like a damn Christmas tree. “Wait. Hold on. Are we sensing a pattern?”

Ethan gasped theatrically, “Did you, our dear Daphne, have a moment with the infamous Hwang Hyunjin?”

Daphne, deadpan. “You’re all deeply annoying.”

Liv just watched her, expression unreadable.

Daphne sighed, running a hand through her hair. She could feel the walls closing in.

She gave up.

There was no escaping this.

No strategic dodging, no dismissive brush-offs that would satisfy the absolute menaces that were her friends.

She sighed, crossing her arms. “Fine.”

Ethan and Maya leaned in, eager.

Liv simply tilted her head, unimpressed but intrigued.

Daphne spoke carefully, as if choosing her words wisely would somehow make this less ridiculous.

“Felix called me through Noa’s phone.”

Ethan nodded, waiting. “Right.”

“But then Hyunjin intervened.”

Maya’s eyebrows shot up. “Intervened how?”

Daphne rubbed her temples. “He said he could take me to the dorm instead of Felix coming.”

A beat of silence.

Then—

Ethan raised a single finger. “Okay. But that still doesn’t explain—”

“—how the hell you ended up in the same hallway as Hyunjin in the first place.” Maya finished, arms crossed.

Daphne inhaled. This was the moment.

She had two options:

1. Lie. (Risk getting caught because, let’s be honest, Maya had the instincts of an FBI agent when it came to gossip.)

2. Tell the truth and suffer the consequences.

She exhaled. Fuck it.

“I may or may not have burst into the bathroom while some girl was giving Hyunjin a blowjob.”

A horrified pause.

Then—

“I—” Ethan looked physically winded. Like that information alone had just shaved five years off his life expectancy.

Maya’s mouth fell open. She looked like she wanted to scream but couldn’t find the words.

Liv, for once, actually reacted. Her eyebrows shot up, and she blinked, processing.

Daphne, completely deadpan. “Yeah.”

Ethan raised his hands. “Okay. Hold on. Hold on.”

Maya finally found her voice. “You walked in on Hwang Hyunjin getting head?”

Daphne sighed. “Unfortunately.”

Liv, still staring. “And you’re just… saying that casually?”

Ethan let out a choked laugh. “This is my favorite thing that has ever happened to you.”

Maya grabbed Daphne’s arm, dramatic as ever. “Are you cursed? Did the universe assign you a tragic fate? What the actual fuck, Daphne?”

Daphne pinched the bridge of her nose. “Can we not make this a thing?”

Maya snapped her head around. “Oh, it’s a thing.”

Ethan clutched his chest like he had just witnessed a divine act. “This is legendary.”

Daphne held up a hand.

“Enough.”

Ethan, grinning like an absolute menace, did not look like he planned to be done anytime soon.

Maya still looked personally betrayed by the fact that Daphne had somehow lived through an event of this magnitude and hadn’t told her sooner.

Liv, ever the composed one, was now staring at her like she had sprouted a second head.

But Daphne wasn’t about to let them spiral further into The Incident.

“Look,” she said, trying to regain control. “I took his ride because I didn’t want Felix to come all the way, and I didn’t want to walk through a street full of drunk idiots.”

Liv nodded, considering. “That’s reasonable.”

Maya, narrowing her eyes. “Okay… but what happened in that car?”

Daphne, with practiced ease, ignored the question entirely.

The diner? Didn’t exist.

The milkshake? Never happened.

The conversation? Erased from memory.

She was almost in the clear.

Until her phone lit up.

And everything came to a full stop.

A message.

From a contact that shouldn’t have existed.

But there it was. Saved.

H.

She stared.

Her breath hitched—just barely—but enough for her friends to notice.

And then it happened.

Chaos.

Maya, the first to react, lunged. “Who. The. Fuck. Is that?”

Ethan, leaning in with newfound energy. “Oh, no. No way. This is him, isn’t it?”

Liv, calm but terrifying, arched a brow. “Daphne.”

Daphne, clutching her phone like her life depended on it. “Nobody panic.”

Ethan: “I’M PANICKING.”

Maya: “SHOW US.”

Daphne: “ABSOLUTELY NOT.”

Liv: “What does it say?”

Daphne, hesitant, finally glanced at the screen.

H: Didn’t take you for the type to disappear without a word. Thought journalists liked a proper closing statement?

Daphne scoffed aloud.

Of course. Of course, he’d say something like that.

But she didn’t have time to process because Maya was actively trying to wrestle the phone from her hands.

Ethan, gasping in betrayal: “I cannot believe you’re gatekeeping this moment from us.”

Maya, clutching her bandaged ankle in frustration: “I’m injured, you absolute traitor. Have some compassion.”

Daphne, holding her phone above her head, refusing to engage. “It’s not a big deal!”

Liv, deadpan. “That’s exactly what someone would say if it was a big deal.”

Daphne exhaled, locking her phone and shoving it deep into her bag, as if that would somehow bury the situation along with it.

Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and started walking toward the exit.

Her friends—predictably relentless—immediately followed.

Ethan, matching her pace effortlessly. “You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden.”

Maya, limping dramatically but still very much on the hunt for answers. “Suspiciously quiet.”

Liv, unamused. “Daphne.”

Daphne sighed. “I have an interview assignment to work on.”

Maya narrowed her eyes. “That sounds fake.”

Daphne rolled her eyes. “It’s literally not. I need to prep questions, check sources, and maybe, just maybe, focus on my actual degree instead of whatever unhinged conspiracy theory you guys are building.”

Ethan, tilting his head. “Sounds a lot like a deflection.”

Daphne stopped walking just long enough to turn to them.

She placed both hands on Maya’s shoulders, ignoring her exaggerated wince for dramatic effect. Then, she turned to Ethan and Liv.

“I love you all, truly. But I need you to go be menaces somewhere else for a bit.”

Maya, offended. “I’m injured.”

Ethan, clutching his chest. “Betrayal. Pain. Suffering.”

Liv, smirking slightly but relenting. “Fine. But this conversation isn’t over.”

Daphne let out a breath of relief. “It never is.”

And with that, she finally escaped, heading toward the library.

Because if there was one place Hyunjin Hwang wouldn’t show up,

It was definitely there.

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

Daphne, 4:05 pm

The library was quiet, and for once, so was Daphne’s mind.

She had spent the past hour and a half completely focused, pouring her energy into structuring interview questions, organizing key points, and solidifying the framework for her next project.

She needed to interview someone outside of her major, and with this assignment cleared, she could finally move forward with her plan—interviewing Noa about architecture.

For the first time all day, she was in control.

Then, just as she was about to move onto her final notes—

A breath.

Too close.

And a voice—low, smooth, unmistakably smug.

“So that’s why you ghosted me.”

Daphne’s fingers froze on her notebook.

“You were busy being a hot nerd.”

Her stomach dropped.

Slowly, too slowly, she turned her head—

And there he was.

Hwang Hyunjin.

Leaning against the table like he had been there forever, like this was his space instead of hers, watching her with that expression. The one that suggested he had found something very entertaining in her reaction.

Slowly, she exhaled, forcing her voice to remain even.

“Are you stalking me?”

Hyunjin didn’t look remotely offended. If anything, he looked amused.

With effortless ease, he lifted the art book in his hands, flipping it open like a casual alibi.

“I’m a student too, remember?”

Daphne’s brows furrowed slightly.

It was logical, reasonable, an answer that could hold its own in any argument—except for the way he delivered it.

The slow smirk. The knowing edge in his tone. The way he watched her, like he was waiting for her to catch up to something he already understood.

Then, before she could speak, he shrugged.

“Besides,” he added smoothly, his voice slipping into something quieter, edged with mischief.

He tilted his head slightly, gaze never leaving hers.

“You snuck up on me in my major’s building first.”

Daphne’s mouth parted—only to close again.

Because, unfortunately—she had no rebuttal.

And she had definitely not invited him to sit down.

And yet, with perfect ease, Hyunjin slid into the chair beside her like he belonged there.

He stretched out lazily, setting his book on the table with a satisfied sigh, before tilting his head toward her with mock sincerity.

“Perfect. I needed a study buddy.”

Daphne blinked at him. Once. Twice.

Then—

“You have like a thousand friends.” She gestured vaguely. “Go bother one of them.”

Hyunjin, undeterred, turned to her fully. Relaxed, smirking. Like she had just said something adorable.

“All of my friends are useless in an academic sense.”

His voice was unbothered, smooth, like a truth he had simply accepted long ago.

Then, leaning in slightly, he added—

“You, on the other hand—you’re perfect for me.”

Daphne stared.

Because the way he said it—not like a compliment, but a fact—was, frankly, unacceptable.

She scoffed, shaking her head. “Not happening.”

Hyunjin just smiled.

Because, as always—he wasn’t asking.

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

Daphne, 4:45 pm

She had spent twenty-two years of her life without Hwang Hyunjin in it.

And yet, somehow, in the span of just one day, she had managed to endure him twice.

At this point, it was starting to feel like overexposure.

Like a chemical spill in a lab—something she hadn’t planned for, something unregulated, toxic in large doses, but oddly fascinating to observe.

Because there she was.

Sitting in the library.

With him.

Not by choice.

And definitely not because she wanted to.

No, of course not.

She was just too exhausted to argue. That was it.

That was the only explanation.

So there they sat. Side by side.

Studying.

Or, at least—she was trying to.

On the surface, she looked normal enough. Focused, unaffected, absorbed in her notes.

But inside?

Inside, her brain was staging a full-scale rebellion.

Because, apparently, it had nothing better to do than hyper-fixate on the fact that Hyunjin smelled entirely too good.

Daphne clenched her jaw, irritated with herself.

Why the hell does he smell like that?

Like clean laundry and something faintly expensive.

Like a boy who probably didn’t even try to smell good—he just did.

It was annoying.

Deeply, profoundly, annoying.

Her pen dragged over the page with slightly too much pressure, but Hyunjin didn’t seem to notice.

Or if he did, he didn’t care.

He sat next to her like he belonged there, effortlessly flipping through the pages of his art book, completely unbothered.

Like he wasn’t aware of the fact that his presence alone had the power to shift the entire gravity of a room.

Daphne exhaled sharply, staring at the same line in her notebook for the third time.

For someone who had sworn up and down that he followed a strict ‘friend protocol,’ who had been so confident that he didn’t “mingle” with those who shared social circles—he was being awfully involved.

What was his angle?

Did he actually, genuinely, want a platonic female friend for the first time in his life and just randomly decide—

Yeah. That journalist nerd seems like a suitable candidate.

Daphne’s fingers curled around her pen.

Somehow, that idea was even more unsettling.

Because if Hyunjin had deliberately chosen to occupy her space, to be here, to wedge himself into her world when he had no reason to—

What did that mean?

What did he want?

The thought sent a strange unease prickling at the back of her neck, like she was walking into a game she hadn’t even realized was being played.

And then—

She caught movement out of the corner of her eye.

Her breath hitched.

He was reading her notes.

Daphne’s head snapped toward him, pulling her notebook closer like it was some classified document.

“Are you—” She pulled her notebook closer to her chest. “—reading my notes?”

Hyunjin, unfazed, barely spared her a glance.

“You need to interview someone?” He exhaled, thoughtful, like he had just stumbled upon something vaguely interesting.

Then, with an air of effortless amusement, he stretched lazily, draping his arm over the back of the chair like he had nowhere better to be.

And with a slow, smug smirk—

“Interview me.”

Daphne blinked.

Once. Twice.

Her mind buffered.

There were many things she expected him to say. Some cocky remark, maybe. A teasing insult, definitely.

But this?

This was unexpected.

She studied him, waiting for the punchline, for some indication that he was merely entertaining himself.

It never came.

Instead, he just watched her, waiting.

And that? That was worse.

Daphne clicked her pen, tilting her head. “You.”

Hyunjin’s smirk deepened. “Me.”

She huffed, deadpan. “That’s adorable.”

Hyunjin pressed a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “Adorable? That’s insulting.”

“Not really.” She gave him a once-over, unimpressed. “More like factual.”

He laughed, soft and amused, before nodding toward her notes. “You need someone outside your major, don’t you?”

Daphne stilled.

He wasn’t wrong.

But still—he was Hyunjin.

And Hyunjin was… well.

She sighed, tapping her pen against her notebook. “I already have someone in mind.”

Hyunjin leaned forward, resting his chin against his hand, studying her. “Noa.”

She hadn’t mentioned that.

She hadn’t mentioned anything.

And yet—he knew.

She blinked, processing. “…How did you—”

Hyunjin smirked. “I pay attention.”

Daphne scoffed, shaking her head. “That’s unsettling.”

Hyunjin’s smirk only grew.

“And yet, you’re intrigued.”

Daphne’s breath hitched, just slightly.

It was ridiculous. The way he spoke, the way he moved, the way he inserted himself into situations like he had been invited there all along.

She looked back at her notes, willing herself to stay focused. “You’d be a terrible interview subject.”

Hyunjin sighed dramatically, like she had just gravely offended him. “Why?”

Daphne deadpanned. “Because you lie.”

Hyunjin grinned. “Correction—I tell good stories.”

Daphne exhaled sharply. “Same thing.”

He watched her for a moment, something unreadable flickering behind his gaze.

Then, with his voice dropping just slightly, he murmured—

“You don’t trust me, do you?”

Daphne’s stomach tightened.

She looked at him then, really looked at him.

Because no, she didn’t.

And yet, somehow, she was sitting here. Letting him occupy space in her world.

She sighed, shaking her head. “Not even a little.”

Hyunjin smiled, slow and knowing. “Smart girl.”

Daphne had made one mistake.

One single mistake.

She had hesitated.

And Hyunjin, ever sharp, ever calculating, had seized the opportunity before she could even process what was happening.

Because suddenly, she was no longer in control of this conversation.

Suddenly, the air between them had shifted—tilting, unraveling, bending around him like he had been pulling the strings all along.

Hyunjin tapped a finger against the table, his gaze still on her notebook. “You’re set on interviewing Noa, huh?”

Daphne, still skeptical. “Obviously.”

Hyunjin hummed, flipping the edge of a page between his fingers. “Makes sense. It’s the safe choice.”

Something about the way he said it—offhanded, dismissive, like a quiet assessment rather than an opinion—made her narrow her eyes.

“Safe?”

Hyunjin tilted his head, feigning thoughtfulness. “Yeah. You already know her. You know what she’ll say. There’s no challenge in that.”

Daphne frowned. “It’s a structured interview. It’s not supposed to be a challenge.”

Hyunjin’s lips curled, slow and knowing. “Isn’t it?”

Daphne paused.

Because that sounded like a trap.

And yet, she had already stepped into it.

Hyunjin leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand. “You’re a journalist, aren’t you?”

Daphne sighed, bracing herself. “That’s the goal, yes.”

Hyunjin hummed. “So, tell me—what makes a good journalist?”

Daphne hesitated, shifting slightly. “A lot of things.”

“Give me one.”

She exhaled. “Unbiased reporting.”

Hyunjin nodded slowly. “Interesting.”

Daphne frowned. “Why?”

Hyunjin smiled. That slow, infuriating kind of smile that told her he was already winning something.

“Because you already have a bias.”

Daphne blinked.

Hyunjin gestured toward her notebook. “Noa. She’s your best friend. You already know her story. You already like her.”

He tilted his head slightly, eyes glinting with something unreadable. “What kind of journalist only asks questions they already know the answers to?”

Daphne stilled.

Hyunjin wasn’t arguing.

He wasn’t convincing.

He was guiding.

Daphne exhaled, crossing her arms. “So what, you think I should interview you for the sake of journalistic integrity?”

Hyunjin shrugged, casual. “I think it would make for a more interesting story.”

Daphne narrowed her eyes. “What makes you so sure of that?”

Hyunjin leaned in slightly, voice dipping into something quieter, something that slotted too easily into the cracks of her composure.

“Because you don’t know me.”

Daphne swallowed.

She hated that her body reacted before her brain could catch up.

Because he was right.

And she hated even more that he knew that.

Hyunjin studied her, his gaze slipping over her expression, searching.

And then, just when she thought the moment would settle, just when she thought she had some kind of grip on herself again—

Hyunjin sat back and smirked.

“But if you’d rather take the easy way out, go ahead.”

Daphne inhaled sharply.

There it was.

The push.

The challenge, perfectly veiled as a dismissal.

She clenched her jaw, staring at him.

Because she knew what he was doing.

She knew.

And yet—

“Fine.”

The word slipped out before she could stop it.

Hyunjin’s smirk widened, his fingers tapping lightly against the table.

“Good girl.”

Daphne’s stomach flipped.

And that was the moment she realized—

She had already lost.

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

Daphne, 6:30 pm

Daphne stepped into the dorm and shut the door behind her, the click of the lock too final, too deliberate.

She stood there for a second, just breathing.

The air inside was warm, carrying the faint scent of Noa’s lavender candle—a grounding smell, something steady, something safe. But nothing about her thoughts felt steady right now.

Because somehow—somehow—she had agreed to interview Hwang fucking Hyunjin for her own assignment.

She exhaled sharply, dropping her bag onto her desk.

What the hell had just happened?

Her body still felt wired, like her mind was trying to catch up to itself. Her skin still buzzed with the residual feeling of his words—not their meaning, necessarily, but the way they sat in her head like they belonged there.

Because that was the worst part.

She couldn’t even tell if it had been her idea or if she had been pushed into it.

And that realization, more than anything, unsettled her.

Since when did she let other people’s words dictate her choices?

Since when did she bend to a challenge?

Daphne prided herself on knowing herself, on being self-aware, on choosing things because she wanted them, because they made sense.

And yet, in the span of a single conversation, Hyunjin had made her question herself.

The simple, undeniable truth was this:

If Hyunjin hadn’t said anything—if he hadn’t planted that doubt, framed it as a test, made her question her own journalistic integrity—

She would still be interviewing Noa.

Her grip on the desk tightened.

It wasn’t just the decision itself that bothered her. It was the fact that she hadn’t made it alone.

And maybe, just maybe—

She hated that he had been right.

Her thoughts were cut short by movement from the corner of the room.

Noa was on her bed, one hand scrolling through her phone, the other casually stirring her tea. She hadn’t looked up yet, but Daphne could feel the moment she noticed something was off.

Because Noa’s fingers paused mid-scroll.

Then, without even glancing at her, she muttered—“What’s wrong with you?”

Daphne blinked. “Excuse me?”

Now Noa did look up, raising an eyebrow. “You walked in here like you just made a deal with the devil.”

Daphne opened her mouth. Closed it. Then scoffed. “I think I just did.”

Noa noticed immediately.

She narrowed her eyes. “No.”

Daphne blinked. “What?”

Noa sat up, pointing her mug at her like she had just cracked a case. “Don’t tell me this is actually about him.”

Daphne groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “It’s not—”

Noa gasped, mock horror. “Daphne.”

“It’s nothing—”

“Daphne.”

Daphne exhaled sharply, defeated.

“I just… I might’ve agreed to interview him.”

Silence.

A long, horrified silence.

Noa, staring. Processing. Calculating.

Then—

“What the actual fuck.”

Daphne braced herself.

“It’s not that deep,” she said quickly. “It’s just an assignment—”

“IT IS THAT DEEP.” Noa placed her mug down so hard it nearly spilled. “Do you have any idea how much that man talks out of his ass?”

Daphne sighed. “I do.”

Noa pointed at her. “Then why the hell did you choose him?”

Daphne paused.

Because, in all honesty, she wasn’t sure.

Or rather—she was sure, but she didn’t like the answer.

She didn’t like that Hyunjin had led her there so easily, so seamlessly, like it had been her idea all along.

She didn’t like that it still didn’t feel like a bad idea.

And she hated, absolutely hated, that his words still lingered.

“Because you don’t know me.”

Daphne swallowed.

She looked at Noa, at the way she was waiting for an explanation.

And she hated that, for the first time in a long time—

She didn’t have one.

——————————————————————————

[yanderederee]

https://www.tumblr.com/yanderederee/753115839045222400/greetings-loves?source=share

AHHHHH CONGRATULATIONS ON 1K FOLLOWERS QKDKWLKD! YOU DESERVE IT QUEEN 👸

If you're taking requests for yandere mbti, may I put in a request for chifuyu and Baji?

Congrats again for reaching 1k!

THANK YOU THANK YOU!! I never really thought 1k would ever be achievable haha. I appreciate your kind words very much!♡

yandere mbti event page: here!

Baji Keisuke MBTI - ♡Answered Here♡

Chifuyu Matsuno - RDML

Reverent:Delusional:Manipulative:Lenient

Chifuyu Matsuno loves to worship you. Loves to love you so deeply and passionately. Will literally watch you with heart pupils as you do anything.

Somehow finds a skill in stalking you. He knows your everyday schedule, and follows you practically everywhere.

Always picks up a trace of you from everywhere you go. Just left the classroom? He takes a small eraser of yours. You left your bedroom window open while you fix dinner downstairs? He’s sneaking in quietly to smell your things, and steals a little throw blanket from the corner of your room.

Loves to smell you. Your perfume, detergent, deodorant, your sweat— oh what he would give to smell you up close on a hot day.

Unfortunately, Chifuyu’s moral compass is still in tact enough to realize his actions might be creepy, but can’t fathom the thought of you disliking or hating him. So, no matter the circumstance, he’s managed to delude himself that he’s doing everything for a good reason.

Even if you don’t like him now, there was always the future! And he was hell bent on proving it to you.

He’s charming enough for you to accept into your life. He’s the perfect boy-next-door with a dedication to you like no other. You never have to question his feelings, his kindness was so genuine.

Chifuyu will manipulate the truth from his darling to any extent if it keeps you from leaving him.

Isn’t the type to make your friends turn on you to isolate you and keep you to himself. He wants you to feel loved at all times, and anyone who would turn their back on you is subject to a beat down.

Manipulative in the way he wedges himself into your plans all the time. He hates being separated from you, so anywhere you go, he goes… be that with your knowledge and by your side, or stalking you secretly.

Doesn’t have the heart to be strict with you. Chifuyu doesn’t like restricting your daily life or personal interactions. He’d hate for you to start hating him for these things. Even if he can come up with an excuse, he knows it would only be a matter of time before you catch on.

Chifuyu is a wonderful partner on the surface, and for a yandere, is actually really tame! His greatest offense is loving you so, so so much…♡

[bitchinbarzal]

okay since jake is a self proclaimed reader picture him and morgan in san jose sitting on their porch/balcony - jake is reading and morgan is sketching, it’s quiet, just the sound of the wind and nature

they sit for hours, talking every once in awhile, it’s pure peace

-linkedin anon

San Jose sunlight filtered through the trees just right, warm but not overwhelming, brushing golden across the balcony where Morgan sat cross-legged in a hoodie two sizes too big, sketchbook balanced on her thighs.

Jake was beside her, leaned back in a deck chair, one foot propped on the railing, book in hand. The spine was already bent—he was halfway through it. He hadn’t said a word in nearly an hour.

And neither had she.

But it wasn’t silence. Not really.

There was the breeze brushing through the trees. The occasional chirp of birds. The distant hum of someone mowing a lawn two streets over.

And it was perfect.

Morgan shifted slightly, erasing a line, sketching it again. She caught Jake glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

“What?” she murmured, not looking up.

He smiled behind the pages. “You scrunch your nose when you concentrate.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled too. “You dog-ear every page, even though I bought you a dozen bookmarks.”

Jake looked down at his book. “They’re all too pretty. Feels wrong to use them.”

Morgan chuckled. “So you abuse the book instead?”

“I like it to feel loved.”

She hummed, nodding like that made sense.

Another quiet fell over them, but it was the kind of quiet that made your heart feel full. Safe.

They’d had a long week—Jake with practice, Morgan with back-to-back design calls and client deadlines. But today?

Today was for them. For nothing. For everything.

Morgan tucked her legs underneath her, stretching out one foot to rest it gently on Jake’s knee. He didn’t move. Just let it sit there, grounding him.

Jake flipped a page, then glanced sideways again. “What are you drawing?”

She turned her sketchbook slightly, revealing the beginning of a dress—structured, minimalist, but soft in the shoulders. Jake could already picture her in it.

“That for a client?”

Morgan paused. Then, softly, “It’s for me.”

Jake reached over, ran a hand gently along her shin. “Looks like you.”

“That’s the point.”

He leaned back, watching her for a long moment.

“Do you ever want days like this to just… stay?” he asked.

She looked up at him.

“Like if I could bottle this exact hour—sun, breeze, you reading, me sketching—and live in it forever.”

Morgan’s face softened.

“I think we are,” she said. “Just in a different way.”

Jake tilted his head.

“When we’re older,” she continued, “we won’t remember the stress or the noise or the emails. We’ll remember this. This is what we’re building toward.”

He reached for her hand, threading their fingers together.

They didn’t speak for a while after that.

Just sat there. Together.

Book and sketchpad. Wind and sun. No deadlines. No pings. No noise.

Just love.

Quiet like this.

[bouncybongfairy]

Hidden In Plain Sight Part 1

Peter Parker/Spider-Man x Fem Reader

Summary: You were on your way to class, finishing up some last-minute homework on the subway. The train derails, causing mass chaos. The subway car you're in is badly mangled, leaving you trapped behind a bent hand railing. While getting saved by spiderman, his mask gets caught on a jagged piece of metal. You come face to face with someone you'd never imagined and ever since then, you can't keep him off your mind.

Work Count: 3k+

Part 2 is now posted! <3

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

It was raining out, dark clouds were covering the sky. The subway was incredibly sleepy today. Everyone seemed like they were still half asleep. It was peaceful, hearing the rain hitting the roof of the train. You finished up a math assignment that should have been done last night. Your statistics class was really kicking your ass. To make matters worse, you spilled a bit of your coffee onto the corner of the page; it was bugging the hell out of you. You were watching other passengers exit one by one. There was a mother with a baby stroller that was draped in a plastic lining. Two teenage girls who were holding hands, giggling with one another. After finishing the last equation, dusting off the eraser bits off the page and admiring your work, you put it away. It wasn't until then that you noticed that you were alone in the car. You smiled to yourself a little. Normally the train was always packed, so it was cool to have the entire space to yourself. You notice that you're pulling up to your stop, so you put away your phone and headphones into your bag. Before you could even register what happened, you were pinned underneath a bar of metal. 

Your vision was now blurry and the ringing in your ear was so loud that it was making your eyes water. You start moving your limbs around weakly, trying to detect any pain or blood. You looked around, trying to make sense of what was happening. It was like one second you were existing and the next you were so disoriented you can't even speak. There was shattered glass everywhere, drops of water coming from the roof. The metal that made up the train car was busted in several areas, yet you were still completely enclosed. Your bookbag was near you. You try reaching for it, to get to your phone and call for help but couldn't quite reach. You began screaming for help; you were straining your voice so hard that barely any sounds were coming out. Quickly your screams turned into sobs. You were beginning to get claustrophobic. Using all your force trying to pry all bars off you, it was like pushing on a brick wall. The doors were getting pried open; you noticed, but were more worried about getting out from underneath the crushed metal; you were becoming frantic.

"Hi, it's okay I'm gonna help you out of here. Just try to stay relaxed while I figure out a way to get you out of here," he said. 

"Please get me out of here!" you cried out starting to hit the metal out of desperation. 

"I am, hey just listen for a second," he said, grabbing your face with his hands to get you to focus, "I think I can get you out by lifting you through the bars, instead of having to pry them up. It won't take as long. You really need to calm down though, okay?" he said, you nodded your head and started taking deep breaths in. 

He crawled up to the ceiling positioned himself above you, his feet were attached to the wall. He then reached down and grabbed you underneath your arms. He started to slowly pull you out from the space you were lodged in. He was giving you simple instructions while encouraging you. Saying things like 'strengthen your legs a little' or ' you're doing great, you're practically out'. He used his webbing to grab your bag, his other arm was wrapped around your ribcage. Once he pulled you fully out, the adrenaline was starting to ease up a little. You looked up at him and saw his mask, focusing on the stitch lining; taking in every detail. A jagged piece of metal catches the top of his mask and pulls it off. His face was red, like he'd been working out for hours. His hair wasn't soaked but you could tell it was damp with sweat. Due to it being cold outside, when the mask first came off condensation was coming off his head. When you made eye contact, you literally saw his pupils change his eye color from blue to pitch black. You were only making eye contact for a couple seconds but it felt like much longer than that. You could hear the clanking of police gear, their footsteps getting closer and louder. You grabbed his mask and pulled it over his face without saying anything. He adjusted it on his head before leaving you with the police who escorted you to an ambulance. 

Other than a few flesh wounds and a mild concussion you were fine. You were told to take it easy for the next week. Ever since the interaction with Spider-Man you couldn't stop thinking about him. You kept looking at videos of him on the news, where they were filming him while in such dangerous fights. He couldn't have been much older than you and it made you feel bad for him. You were in college and worked, even that made you feel like you were being suffocated with obligations. You couldn't help letting your mind wander a bit, thinking about how his eyes widened; how vulnerable yet strong he looked. You were sitting in the bathtub, it was Saturday night but the last thing you wanted to do was go out. 

The water was so hot it was steaming, it took you a moment to adjust yourself to the hot water. Once you did, you could feel your muscles loosening. You had just finished your homework for the week and you didn't work in the morning. It was nice being able to relax without subconsciously being worried about going to work the next day or an assignment you forgot to do. Music was playing from the speaker, you had a towel next to the tub to dry your hand whenever you wanted to change the song or take a hit from your pen. The bubbles were beginning to lose their battle with the water and were slowly disappearing. 

After getting out of the tub you dry yourself with a towel and make your way to your bedroom. You change into some sweat pants and a tee shirt and order something off uber-eats. The last thing you wanted to do was make yourself dinner after such a hectic week. You ended up settling on walking to your local deli instead of ordering out. The bodega was only three blocks up the road and there was enough light outside to walk there safely. You throw on a pair of shoes and grab your purse before making your way down the stairwell. You saw your neighbor Amarita who was sweeping the steps, she is such a sweet lady. 

"Y|N! I'm glad I caught you, I wanted to let you know there's a new neighbor moving in tonight. All I know is that it's a younger guy, I just wanted to let you know in case you think it's a stranger or creep," she said, supporting her weight on the broom. 

"Thanks for letting me know, do you want anything from Mitch's? I'm going down to get some dinner," you offered. 

"Oh thank you babe! Can you please get me a Tuna sub with lettuce and onions please? But only half, it's so big I can never finish it," she complained and gave you a kiss on the cheek before you left. 

'I love that little old lady'  - you thought to yourself. 

Once you got to the deli you were greeted by a couple workers, you were a regular there. You ordered the subs and then strolled around looking for drinks and a couple snacks. You grabbed a Diet Coke, a pickle and some chips. You got Amarita a coconut water and a chocolate bar; you also ordered her a 12 inch so she would have something to eat later if she got hungry. You walked back quickly because of how cold it was outside. When you got back to your apartment, you knocked on Amarita's door to give her dinner. When she didn't answer even after the third knock you thought about walking in but she came up the stairwell before you could. 

"Oh Y|N you're back just in time. This is Peter, he'll be moving into the apartment in between us," she said beaming.

The minute you locked eyes with him you immediately recognized him, he seemed to remember you as well because his eyes said it all. They widened just as they did on the subway, you swallowed and took a deep breath. You snapped out of it and handed her the food you bought her. She was playfully scolding you about how much money you spent on her. You broke away from eye contact and assured her that it wasn't a big deal and that it was more important to you that she was fed. When you looked back at him, he was still staring, like he was waiting for you to react. 

"It was nice meeting you Peter, I'm Y|N by the way," you said smiling while rummaging through your purse to find your keys. 

"Yeah I uh- It's nice meeting you too," he stuttered out. 

You went back inside and had to check your heart rate. You knew that was him, there was no doubt about that. What would be the benefit of you confronting him about it, it's not really any of your business. It's not like he was doing anything illegal and putting him would be pointless. It did make you a little nervous living next door to Spider-Man. What if he attracts a villain here and you get caught in a dangerous crossfire. You sat on your bed and turned on Jersey Shore eating your food while thinking about the fact that one of New York's top crime fighters was snoring next door. 

The next morning when you got up, you were thrilled to see that you slept in till 11. You got dressed and opened up your laptop, scrolling through your emails. There was none that stuck out to you and ended up closing the computer out of boredom. It was raining again today which made the view out your fire escape look like a windows lock screen. You hear a couple of teenagers shrieking from the ground, pointing with smiles on their faces. Suddenly a blue and red blob flew right past your window. You gasp and jump back before going back to your window to investigate. It was him, flying through the air using his web. Making different poses as he hit his peak height. You looked at the rim of your window and noticed webbing that was left behind. Without really thinking about why, you opened the window and grabbed it. Pulling into your room like a rope. It was sticky but because of the rain, you could tell the adhesive was worn off. You leave in on your window seal, you were mad at yourself for caring so much. You go into the kitchen and pull out the other half of your sandwich before going back to your bed. You turn on your T.V and scroll through documentaries to fall asleep after you enter your food coma. 

~

Your only day off ended as quickly as it started, it was nice to spend the entire day in bed though. It felt like your body needed all that time to catch up on rest. You got up and showered, you had to get ready for your statistics class today. It was one of the first times the sun had been out in a week and a half. After getting out of the shower you began blow drying your hair in the bathroom. Your laptop was sitting on the vanity, playing Jersey Shore. It was blasting through a portable speaker, you kept humming the theme song as it played. You were thankful that the rain had let up because you could finally go out with your hair flat ironed. You bite through your closet and settle on a pair of jeans and a fitted long sleeve shirt. After applying a bit of make-up, you get all your things together and make your way to the subway. As you walk, you take a moment to appreciate the weather. There was a slight breeze, but still enough sun to prevent it from being too cold. Ever since the accident you were hesitant to use public transportation. You're a very practical person and know the likelihood of anything happening again anytime soon is fairly low. It still scares you, like a mild ptsd or something. 

The ride was short and packed which helped take your mind of the ride itself. Once you get to the campus you enter the coffee shop that is adjacent to your classroom. You were grateful that you chose to get your homework earlier this week. It gave you time to browse the library before you had to be there. You weren't looking for anything in particular, just something to read in your pass time. You admired some of binding of the book, some were so used you couldn't even read the title while others looked like they'd never been opened. 

"Ma'am I'm sorry but we don't allow food or drink in here," an older man with white hair, mustache and thick glasses informed you. 

"Oh sorry, I'll be on my way," you said. 

"Don't feel too bad, some of these books are so outdated, they could be improved by a coffee spill," he said with a thick New York accent. 

Once you got to your classroom, there were about 15 students loitering outside the door. This told you that the teacher was late, you expected this of course. She was the type of teacher that would waste half the class talking about her kids or messy divorce. All the other students would talk trash about her if she left the room for any reason. You felt bad for her, teachers that always ranted about their personal life always struck you as lonely. Why else would they be ranting to their students about their problems? You move your straw around your cup before taking a sip. Mrs.Claski finally walks up the stairs towards the classroom. She was rambling about how she was 'so sorry' that she was late. Apparently she was at the vet with her cat, you didn't bother paying attention to all the little details explaining why. You take your seat and pull out your laptop, Claski had to leave to make copies of the assignment we were working on today. As she walked out, Peter walked in. You made eye contact, and it only reaffirmed that he was the guy from the subway. 

He broke eye contact and made his way to a chair, the classroom was full at this point. Only one or two seats were open and of course both were in front of you. Luckily there were still those outdated hulky P.Cs on every desk which put a barrier between you and him. When you saw him, you immediately thought about the web you pulled from your fire escape. Like him being so close was putting you at risk of him finding out. Maybe that's why he looked so freaked out when he saw you at the apartment building. Because he recognized you from not only the train but the building as well. It's crazy because until everything that happened, you didn't even notice that he was in any of your classes. Now it was almost impossible to ignore. Like he had been hidden in plain sight this entire time, right under your nose. The teacher didn't end up coming back to class until there was only 15 minutes left. She apologized and let everyone go earlier, seeing that there was no way the class could get an assignment done at that time. 

When you were on your way home, you knew that if he wasn't busy he would have to take the same train and walk to get there. Your anxiety was through the roof, and what was even more frustrating is you weren't really sure why. The tension between the two of you felt so thick, like it was wrapped around your throat and was tightened when you saw or thought about him. You gathered your stuff and made your way out of the classroom. You put your headphones in and started making your way back to the apartment. You had to stop at the store on your way home, your refrigerator looked like it belonged in a frat house. You decided on making pasta and ground beef, that way you could take some left-overs to Amarita. You Ubered home so you didn't half to carry your groceries from the store all the way back to your building. Once you got there, Peter was walking up to the building. You took a deep breath before entering the building. This was like a sick joke or something. Once you get to the top of the stairs you hand to pass him to get to your building. As you passed him, your bag got caught on the hand railing causing it to rip and send your groceries tumbling. As you began gathering all the food back up again, you looked up and saw Peter begin to help. You looked in his bag that he set on the floor and saw that all it had in it was frozen burritos and some Gatoraids. This made your heart sink and again without really thinking about why you opened your mouth. 

"I- do you want to come over in an hour and have dinner? I'm making pasta and I bought way too much stuff," you said as he handed you a can of tomato sauce. 

"Def- that- I would love too but are you sure?" he asked. 

"Yeah, like I said, is an hour good?" you asked

"I'll be here, thank you," he said. You both walked to your doors and let yourselves into your apartments. 

"What did I just start," you mumbled to yourself before starting dinner.

[legitidvleaks]

Alva Lorenz [Hermit] 2nd Year Character Day

A Page of Notes

Before I was to fully immerse myself in the sacred duty of examining the ritual, Lord Alva, in his great wisdom, gathered me and a select few followers for a final briefing. It was a session that revealed the ineffable beauty of the divine gifts and refinements bestowed upon my soul. The enlightenment of the Eye of Darkness manifests itself to each individual in different and mysterious ways. It often shapes the very essence of one's being with a precision and thoroughness that transcends mortal comprehension, answering the deepest, most fervent yearnings of every soul burned by its inner fire. The eyes—those clear, feline orbs—removed from me the tangled web of emotions that had once obstructed my path. In their stead, I was granted clarity, a singular focus, that allowed me to serve the greater, transcendent work with unwavering devotion. The affections, the pains, the turmoil that had once bent my will, all were stripped from me. In their absence, a serenity unlike any I had ever known overtook me. As for Lord Alva, his consciousness had long since become a serene and perfect void, in which the wheels of order and the delicate threads of causality moved in quiet rhythm. His transformation seemed far more absolute and deep than my own, and I could not help but perceive in him an aura of something holy. Perhaps this is the very thing the venerable one had longed for, but had never fully attained? …… The tasks I have undertaken in these past days are but a small part of the larger preparations for the ritual to come. While I lack the standing to truly partake in its heart, I nonetheless find myself honored by my involvement. According to Lord Alva's design, all actions that can ensure the ritual's success, no matter how seemingly small, are essential. One reason is Lord Alva's distrust of the ritual's sponsor. The invitation promised all necessary "materials" and assurances for the ceremony, but this also suggested that the sponsor may have known far more than we anticipated—perhaps even the recent operations I had conducted in the Netherlands. Thus, I was ordered to journey there, to retrace the steps of the jailbreak and scrutinize the lingering traces and details of the event. I place my full trust in Lord Alva's judgment: even if the invitation is generous, the sponsor's underlying intentions are undoubtedly at odds with ours. The vague assurances of "beneficial outcomes" may well conceal ulterior motives—hidden conditions that demand a cautious eye. And I know that Lord Alva, ever vigilant, will never go unprepared. Upon my arrival in the Netherlands, I conducted a thorough investigation of the area surrounding Het Arresthuis. Here, in this very place, the great divine presence had imparted its revelation, and it was from this very jailbreak that the perfect candidate for the forthcoming ritual had been chosen. The traces of the escape plan, once carefully laid by several of our brethren, had been meticulously erased. From the scant testimonies I gathered, it seemed that other unknown parties had been involved, their fates now shrouded in mystery. Strangely, the nearby cemeteries, where our fallen comrades were said to rest, had been emptied. I relayed these findings to Lord Alva, and a swift reply came—indicating that I must soon set forth once more. However, there is one detail I withheld from my report: during my investigation, I happened upon a cemetery near a small village. There, I discovered a gravestone bearing the name of Lord Alva. It was an unadorned stone—bereft of epitaph, untouched by the rot of decaying leaves. Only a thin layer of ash lay upon its surface.

(The notes are accompanied by a brief reply, an order to proceed to England and await further instructions.)

[hazyfaith]

You Can Work Now... (2.5k)

Pairing: Mist/Cirrus CW: NSFW, lesbian sex, strap-on, cockwarming, semi-public (?). bent over a desk, on a chair.

Summary: As one of the only one able to understand Latin, Cirrus had been put on translation duty, taking much of her time. As she worked hard, her girlfriend started to see the exhaustion in her face, feeling the need to help her somehow.

Read on AO3: You Can Work Now...

A small lamp illuminated the pile of books and papers scattered in front of Cirrus, the only thing keeping her awake at this hour. 

The Clergy had tried to teach Siblings of Sins and other ghouls Latin, but most had lost interest quickly, leaving only a handful of people with any knowledge on it. Cirrus was one of them. As she was one of the few who understood Latin to a great extent, she was mandated to read and translate books from the library to expand the knowledge of the monastery.

She had been flipping pages and scribbling down for hours, trying to get the meanings right. Half of the current book was erased as it had been sitting on a bookshelf, untouched for years, making it harder to translate.

Despite her eyes burning and her constant yawns, she pushed through and finished a couple more papers before calling it a night. Her focus was not the best, but it was strong enough for her to not hear the creaking doors.

After pushing the large wooden doors, Mist was first met with darkness, only a faint glow from behind multiple rows of shelves. As she went deeper in the library, the aggressive flipping of pages and the harsh scribble resonated in the empty room. 

Soon she was faced with Cirrus’ back, hunched over her desk. Slowly, she made her way over. As her hand reached her back, Cirrus jumped in her seat and made a large diagonal scratch on the paper she had been working on. She let out a desperate groan, putting her head in her hands.

“I’m sorry Ci, I’ll rewrite it for you,” Mist reassured her, bringing her hand to the back of her neck, rubbing it. 

Cirrus did her best to ignore the water ghoulette and regained her focus, but her eyes were having none of it. Her eyelids were getting heavier and she was blinking slowly. Shivers ran down her spine as Mist never stopped rubbing her hand on tender spots of her neck.

The air ghoulette sighed deeply, dropping her pen in the open book before closing it. She gently dropped her head on it, closing her eyes. 

Both of Mist’s hands grabbed her shoulders, massaging them softly. Soon enough, Cirrus’ breath slowed down, and wheezes came out of her, almost as if she was snoring. Mist leaned forward, bringing her mouth to the tired ghoulette’s ear. 

“I think you should go to bed now, gorgeous, what do you think?” 

“Mhmm.” Cirrus’ exhaled. “I have to finish this before sleeping,” she whispered, almost inaudible. 

“No, you’ll finish it tomorrow. You can barely keep your eyes open. C’mon, we’re going to bed.”

Mist ignored the protests and pulled the chair away from the desk, Cirrus keeping herself limp. She stepped in front of her, lowering herself to meet her girlfriend’s tired gaze. She reached forwards, reaching her arms under Cirrus, pulling her up on her feet. Cirrus didn’t have to stand up for long as Mist bent down to take her legs in her arm while the other stayed on her back, picking her up bridal style. 

A yelp left the air ghoulette’s mouth. She was not used to Mist picking her up seeing that she was taller than her, but she quickly settled in. Her head dropped to the side and rested on her shoulder, her arms wrapped around her neck, her soft breath tickling Mist.

The way to Cirrus’ room was far from smooth, too many stairs for both of their comfort, but Mist made it without dropping her girlfriend, cradling her in her arms.

When she got to the air ghoulette’s room, she made Cirrus’ nudge the door open with her foot, before letting herself in. She lowered her on the bed before reaching over to her wardrobe, picking out some pajamas for the both of them. 

After getting changed, Mist lied down on her back, pulling her girlfriend to her chest. Brushing her hair with her finger made Cirrus’ body melt on top of her. Her shoulders untensed and her breath slowed down, finally allowing herself some down time.

 ------------

For the next three nights Mist found her girlfriend in the same spot in the library. Tonight was not really different. 

As she walked down the usual library aisle, she didn’t see Cirrus immediately as she was not sitting in her usual seat despite the mess she made days ago still being there. 

From the corner of her eye, she spotted her looking at books on a shelf a little further back. Mist thought of going up to her, but decided against it. Instead, she sat on the chair, watching her girlfriend with a smirk on her face. Cirrus’ eyebrows were knitted, her head sideways as she read the different titles. After finding the one she was looking for, she flipped through the pages, walking back to her spot. 

As she arrived close to her seat, she extended her arm expecting to be met with a wooden chair. Instead, she made contact with the soft fabric of Mist’s uniform, startling her enough to lift her eyes from the book. 

“Move please, I have to finish this,” Cirrus said, her tail flicking behind her in irritation. 

“How about you sit in my lap instead? Mhmm?” She answered, a devious smile growing on her face. 

Cirrus shook her head, a harsh sigh escaping her. “Come on, I really have to finish this before the end of the week,” she pleaded. The deadline was approaching and she was far away from having everything ready.

The water ghoulette didn’t answer, she rather put her hands on her girlfriend’s hips, pulling her infront of her lap so she was facing her back. She then forced her to sit down, a yelp coming out of the air ghoulette. 

“See? It wasn’t that hard,” Mist whispered in Cirrus’ ear, sending shivers down her spine. Mist sneaked her right arm around the ghoulette’s belly, securing her. Her other hand went to her clothed thigh, her thumb rubbing ever so slightly against the soft fabric of her skirt. She rested her head on the taller ghoulette’s shoulder, her soft warm breath going down her neck. Cirrus had yet to move, still taken aback.

A couple minutes had passed, in silence as Cirrus’ focused on the book in her hands, before she made an attempt at moving. She pushed her hips back, only to be met with something hard against her. She turned her head with a frown, questioning what she felt, a low chuckle escaping Mist’s lips.

“I thought I could help you relax a little bit, but I see you are very busy… Maybe, I can still help? What do you think?” Mist asked, her voice low.

“What do you mean?” 

“Maybe I could put my cock in you while you work? Hmm? That would help you relax, your shoulders are so tense, we can’t keep that going…” She purred, leaving soft kisses to her neck. 

A heavy breath came from Cirrus as she searched into the water ghoulette’s eyes for any signs of it being a joke. Mist’s pupils were dilated; she was hungry.

After seeing the desire in her girlfriend’s gaze, she gave her a firm nod before standing up. Mist wasted no time to unbutton her pants and pull them down before scrunching Cirrus’ long skirt up. She ran her nails up Cirrus’ thighs in the process, leaving pinkish marks as Cirrus’ skin erupted in goosebumps. Mist pulled out her strap-on out of her boxers, then she reached out to Cirrus’ panties. She touched her lightly before pulling them to the side. With her index finger, she rubbed her clit before making her way to her wet hole, making Cirrus’ breath shudder. 

Mist pulled Cirrus’ back down by her hips. As she lowered her down, she stopped as only the tip of her cock was in her dripping entrance. She rubbed the tip in between her folds, wetting her strap, which forced a strangled moan out of Cirrus. 

Holding her cock in place, Mist pulled Cirrus down fully, her strap-on swallowed by her cunt. Cirrus’ head fell back, her breath becoming heavier as she was stretched out.

“Come on, love, you can do your work now,” Mist purred in her ears, her hot breath hitting her skin.

Cirrus took a couple seconds before straightening herself back up. The movement made a wave of pleasure run through her. Trying her best to ignore how full she felt, she picked up her pen and the open book in front of her, starting where she had left. 

As she reached the end of the page, she realized she hadn’t written a single thing. A huff escaped her lips as she returned to the beginning of the page. She scribbled a few inaccurate words, unable to focus.

Mist was leaning back on the chair, her calloused fingers kneading softly at Cirrus’ hips, holding her in place. She watched her lover’s face carefully. The air ghoulette’s eyes kept fluttering, her gaze could not stay focused on the words for more than a few seconds. 

Slightly lifting Cirrus by the hips, Mist shifted her hips, repositioning herself all while her cock was still buried deep in her girlfriend’s cunt. A moan left her mouth as she dropped what she was holding. 

“You need to focus sweetheart, pick up the book and work. Wouldn’t want you to miss your deadline,” Mist teased, readjusting herself again, thrusting her strap even deeper. 

“Oh fuck! Please, please Mist- Please fuck me!” Cirrus begged, her head down. 

“You have stuff to do, you said-”

“I don’t care, I just- I need you, please,” she pleaded, grinding her hips down to create some friction. 

As the sweet sounds coming out of her girlfriend’s mouth, Mist groaned and tightened her hold on her hips. She pushed Cirrus’ up by her waist, making her stand up and gasp as she felt empty. Mist shoved everything to the side of the desk and wasted no time to bend Cirrus over it, desire bubbling in her chest seeing her lover in front of her. She trailed her fingers down her clothed back legs before pulling her skirt down, pooling at her feet.

Mist brought her hips forward, meeting Cirrus’ soft round butt. She sneaked her hand down between the two of them, her middle finger parting her girlfriend’s wet labias as she reached for her clit. With the pad of her finger she made circles, rubbing the pink bud slowly, warming her up a bit before running her length in between her lips, coating her strap in her wetness. Cirrus hummed at the feeling, pushing her hips back as she wanted more.

In one swift motion she bottomed out, Cirrus moaned and her tail flickered at the feeling. Mist began with slow thrusts as Cirrus’ tail trailed up the short one’s leg. As she sped up, the desk shook, papers, books and pens falling on the floor amidst Cirrus’ whimpers.

The water ghoulette bent down too, her clothed breasts pressing against her lovers’ back, her head resting in the crook of her neck as she left small kisses and soft bites. As Cirrus came closer to her climax she gripped the edge of the desk tighter, so hard that her knuckles became white.

“Mist, I-I’m gonna-” Before she could finish her sentence, Mist pulled out completely, leaving Cirrus crying at the loss of feeling. 

“I wanna see your face when you come,” she cooed as she peeled herself away, sitting back on the chair. She gripped Cirrus’ hips and spun her around. Looking up to her, she ran her hands under the air ghoulette’s shirt, groping at her tits. She toyed with her nipples, sweet moans leaving both their mouths. She was enjoying seeing her partner let loose for the first time in a while.  She lowered her hands on Cirrus’ hips before pulling her to hover over her lap, lining her dripping pussy with her strap. 

She pulled her down, keeping her gaze on her girlfriend’s face as she sunk her down on her cock. Cirrus’ eyebrows knitted, her eyes rolled, her head fell back as she felt herself being stretched again. Cirrus’ hands automatically flew to Mist’s back, one over and one under her shirt. As the strap filled her up, she dug her claws in her girlfriend’s skin, leaving red marks and pulling her closer. Mist saw it as an opportunity to resume her attack on her neck, kissing and biting it.

Mist’s mouth sent electricity through Cirrus’ body. The more she brushed her lips on her girlfriend’s neck, the more restless she became. The nibbling at her skin made her knees buckle, while Mist’s short hair tickled her jaw. The water ghoulette’s calloused hands roamed over her lover’s curves. Cirrus grinded her hips down, her clit repeatedly brushed against the base of the strap, loud moans falling out of her mouth.

“Shhh, shhhh… we wouldn’t want to get caught now, would we?” Mist whispered in her ear, prompting her to bite her lower lip, turning her moans into groans. 

Giving Cirrus’ neck a final kiss, Mist pulled her up by her hips before lowering her down on her cock, setting a slow and steady pace. As she hit her sweet spot over and over again, Cirrus’ legs became shaky with pleasure, her tail wrapping around the water ghoulette’s legs to stabilize herself. 

Mist’s tail reciprocated the action. It trailed up Cirrus, wiggling itself between the two ghoulette’ bodies, its tip settling on Cirrus’ clit, making her gasp. As it began rubbing it,her legs buckled at the feeling, a strangle moan escaping her mouth.

Warmth spread across Cirrus’ cheeks, down to her chest, a knot building in the pit of her stomach. She felt her pussy clench harder around Mist’s strap, her eyes fluttering and her head falling forwards on her girlfriend’s shoulder, panting heavily.

“Come for me sweetheart, you always work so hard you deserve it,” Mist murmured in her ear. 

Arching her back, Cirrus came undone, Mist’s mouth automatically going to Cirrus’. As they were making out, Cirrus’ moans were muffled into the kiss, making sure no one could hear them. . Cirrus kept grinding down for a few more seconds, riding out her orgasm before pulling the strap out of her. 

Cirrus stayed on Mist lap for a little longer, her head in the crook of her neck, getting her breathing under control. She started kissing her neck, sucking on a very sensitive spot, surprising Mist. 

“Mhm, not now sweetheart,” Mist said, pushing her face softly away.

“But what about you? Don’t you wanna-”

“I had my fun watching you feel good, Ci. But if you insist then you can take care of me tomorrow…” she whispered suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows playfully. “How about we go take a warm shower and then bed? It’s late already and you still have so much work to do,” she teased, knowing she was at the root of the issue.

“I wonder why,” Cirrus said ironically. Mist chuckled before hurrying her girlfriend to get up, lifting her from her lap, ready to take care of her.

They showered quickly before ending up in Mist’s bed at Cirrus request, saying how much more comfortable her bed was. Not long after her head hit the pillow, Cirrus fell asleep, snuggling Mist.

[squeakygeeky]

7 Days Before Valentine: Novella vs Drama

This write-up will contain complete spoilers. I know not that many people watched 7 Days Before Valentine, but I think you might still be interested in how things were adapted from page to screen, so the basic premise of both is that a guy who just experience a breakup gets visited by a 'cupid reaper' for seven nights, who gives him the chance each night to erase someone from existence in the hopes of changing things enough to make the breakup not have happened. Ultimately it's a story about acceptance.

Overall I'm actually calling this for the series, because the novella is very short, but the series is able to flesh everything out and really delve into the characters and the implications of the character's choices on everyone at large.

7 Days Before Valentine is based on a novella by the same title by Patrick Rangsimant. I've also read My Ride, I Love You and My Imaginary Boyfriend by him. I enjoy his writing and he's actually a doctor so you can tell from his writing that he's experienced a lot of things in life and his work tends to have a philosophical bent. This work was definitely the serenity prayer as a BL. He tends to write mostly dialog and introspection, a bit like I write actually. It's straightforward and a bit bare, so the vibes of the story and the series are very different. The overall ominous weirdness of the series came from the director/screenwriter, but I think the way it's very theatrical did suit the talky/thinky source material.

The series is also based on another novella, 7 Days Before Halloween, but that one doesn't appear to have an English translation or maybe hasn't even been published yet. The story we get for Q in the series (who goes by the slightly less cute 'Cue' in the novella) is all in there so I can't say how close that was to what we got in the series. Cue doesn't go into his backstory in the series.

The narrator of the novella is nameless and definitely feels like more of an Everyman compared to Sunshine. He's a little blase about erasing people from existence but feels like he could be anyone struggling to accept a major life change, which is the point. I don't remember him being described physically at all and we don't get any details of his life. This makes him way less frustrating than Sunshine, who begins the novel as a self-absorbed and selfish actor, but also not particularly memorable as a character, and it's less that the narrator experiences general character growth and more that he learns to deal with this specific life crisis.

There's no flower shop/bar in the novella. I was hoping we'd get some explanation for that guy who seems to be another supernatural entity like Q, but nope. Also, having the kid from the flower shop as a character gave the show the chance to point out that romantic love isn't the be-all-and-end-all of love, which is pretty unusual for a romance series and was a nice touch.

There also isn't any exploration of what erasing a person means for the world at large. For example, in the novel erasing the politician the couple argued about just doesn't work to fix things, while in the show Sunshine manages to create a whole dystopia. I think that aspect worked well in the series. Both do have the main character fixing things by wishing himself out of existence, only to be brought back by someone else's wish, but of course we don't get the explanation of that in the novella the way we do in the show.

There is a little romance between the narrator and Cue in the novella, but more just that they meet at the end and recognize each other. Yes the show was a slow burn, but I did like the way Q in the series progressed in his attitude, from antagonism to protectiveness to love towards Sunshine, and the way they both opened up to each other. The climax of Sunshine wishing Q out of existence in order to release him from being a reaper was just so perfectly devastating. In the novella it's much less dramatic since the narrator gets the opportunity to make a normal wish and wishes for Cue to be happy. In both cases this does lead to them having a new meet-cute as regular mortals, it's just 1000x more satisfying in the show both because they'd already fallen in love and lost each other at this point but also because we got to see how things clicked into place with a reaper version of Sunshine having been the Q to mortal Sky, who needed to learn his own lessons about loss and regret and letting go.

I think the bizarre oppressive atmosphere of the show really paid off in the final episode, because everything felt clearer and lighter and yes, the colors, and that added to the impact of Sunshine straightening his shit out and the whole last minute reunion. Anyway, I SWEAR THIS WAS GOOD GIVE IT A CHANCE.

[victorgrwrites]

Higher Than Death | Prologue: Little Dark Age

Prologue of my multichapter Gortash/Durge fic focusing on events pre-game. The prologue happens after the coronation, where Jack (Durge) sneaks into Gortash's office to learn more about Gortash, and maybe himself in the process

Chapter posted below if you do not prefer AO3, and a song for your listening pleasure.

Enver never really knows where he will sleep on any given night in recent months. Joyously gone were the days where he could fall asleep on any cold patch of stone he could find, though it means he insists on having a bed in several key areas.

Moonrise is the bottom of the barrel with the constant howling winds and frigid interior. He prefers the cot in his private workshop over that, even though he rarely makes it there from his workbench. At least it's warm there.

His grandiose room in the temple of Bane is the preferable choice, but tonight he will make do with the four poster in the fortress office. It's comfortable enough, and he doesn't want to miss the arrival of his returned...

Well.

Even he admits he eagerly called him 'favorite assassin'. 'Nearest and dearest'. 'Kings', 'Gods'. He had to wonder if he was too eager at today's coronation, played too much of his hand.

The Bhaalspawn is not the same man Enver knew. Where he would expect to find quiet confidence and a surgeon's dissecting stare pointed toward a stranger, the Archduke found him on flat footing, his eyes desperately flicking about to find the invisible pieces of his mind. Perhaps he was too gentle, but even the faintest glimmer of a possibility to have Jack at his side once more made his heart skip embarrassingly.

Enver's assassin.

His killer, his blade, his daredevil, his audience, his admirer, his candid observer, his confidant, his promised doom. Masochist, sadist, equal.

His equal...

Enver blinks away the jumbled mess of words from his head to find a pool of black ink spreading over half-legible words. With a frustrated huff he sets the quill back in its holder on the writing desk, lifts a small cup-like contraption to set over the ink blot, and clicks a button on the side to suck the errant ink from the parchment.

...Yes, the words too, his mindless confessions erased from the page to return it to pristine parchment.

Better to try to get sleep. With any hope Orin will be too busy bothering Jack to bother with his guards tonight. With a tired groan, he lifts himself out of his chair, dark eyes flicking to the Steel Watch, the only guards left in the room itself once the sun had dipped beyond the ocean's horizon. They were better than any mortal guards anyway.

His firm steps thud from wood steps to stone, moving down the length of the long table and behind the elegant chair sat at the head. Once he rounds the corner where his bed sat, he realizes...

Perhaps he should have kept the guards inside.

Jack sits with his legs out in front of him, one leg bent up, wedged into a corner that was difficult to see from the main room. He has a book, one of *his* memoir notes open to a page, warm eyes flicking quickly along the lines. Speed reading.

Tens of possibilities flew into Enver's mind, each with their own appropriate response. A slight glance down to his gauntlet and, no, it does not resonate. He did not have the last netherstone, though he clearly still had Ketheric's on him.

He should call his Steel Watch. How did they not see, how many books did he have stacked next to him, how long has he been here?

The mild shock on the Banite's face melts into a cool smile, one of his more dangerous expressions. "I thought I had been very clear," he begins, sliding into his usual calm cadence.

"You were," Jack responds simply, as if Enver's statement is a question, his eyes not leaving the book. The deadpan response itches under his skin while tugging at his throat; a tone he's heard many times before.

The Bhaalspawn's voice sounds a touch more gravelly, though the deep tenor remains otherwise intact. Jack had always looked shockingly... plain for being the son of Bhaal. He looked half elven, his black hair streaked with gun metal greys that have started to multiply in the time he has been away.

Jack clearly feels unconcerned when he should be very much so, because Enver is one word away from alerting his guard.

No. He should have patience, control.

"Then why," he turns his hand up, gesturing toward the assassin, "are you here?"

Perhaps more control than that.

Jack's eyes slowly look up from over the top of the book, the rest of his face tipping up a second slower to reveal more grey added to his goatee.

"When I... kill Orin," he rumbles these words softly, his expression shifting from placid to rage filled for only a split moment,"...I will need to make a decision. And I don't have enough information for it."

"And," Enver tips his head, still perturbed that Jack didn't seem to understand that he had threatened his life. "...I? Have this information you need?"

"You know me."

Jack states simply, leaning forward, letting the book fall closed and lowering it onto his thigh, all one easy and flowing movement, his expression becoming almost innocently earnest.

"Don't you?" Just like his movements, Jack's expressions shift strangely fluid on his face; the Banite had seen many different kinds on that face before. He could go from angelically placid to an intensely insectoid curiosity, gleefully bloodthirsty to feral rage, amused snark to heartbreaking melancholy. Jack's face lied as little as he did, and most would be downright disturbed by the sheer range of his truth.

Enver's own expression falls, discarding the mask of dangerous geniality for a more cold but uncertain one, arms crossing across his chest. "...I should kill you."

"You would be right to."

"Would I?"

"If you could catch me," Jack adds with a smirk, arrogance and playfulness on those lips.

The archduke let out a huff as he looks up at the ceiling, lips pursed as he genuinely considers the option.

Clearly Jack was looking for... Enver. Without looking for him. Through his memoir notes and ideological ramblings, the only connection he has to his past that wouldn't kill him immediately. To learn about himself.

His cold eyes come back from the ceiling to meet the Bhaalspawn's warm ones, letting the thoughts in his own mind refine into something verbal, buying himself time with a slow inhale.

"There was a... sort of game we used to play, you and I," he began, uncrossing his arms and stepping closer to the Bhaalspawn nearly at the same time Jack leans forward with earnest and intense curiosity, the cocky attitude all but fleeing.

"We would ask one another questions based purely on conjecture, with little to no context," he continues, his clawed hand gesturing between them.

"If the questions were spot on, then the other had to decide how to answer. What to say in order to find out how the other discovered their information. How much to feed into the other's ego. All while determining what more information to give."

Jack's eyes widened ever so slightly, head tipping an inch and with a slight snap to the movement, a glimmer of that insectoid curiosity. "And... you didn't lie?"

"Only as much as you did."

Jack stared, eyes flicking over Enver as if he were reading the muscles under his face and the pulse in his veins before smiling and smoothly leaning forward. "Alright. Let's play then."

The other man bows his head slightly, turning his hand in offer, "Beginners go first."

Something... too fast to read passes over Jack's eyes before an intense look of concentration took over. Once again he seemed to be looking under Enver's skin to the sinews underneath, though less with an intent to see more of him and more as the parchment to map Jack's own thoughts.

"...When we met, who did I kill?"

He chuckles softly at the question with a shake of his head. Not a good one by Jack's normal standard, but for this new person sitting in his bedroom... not bad. "No one except your butler."

Blinking once in surprise, Bhaal's scion sat back again, waiting for the other's question patiently.

It was a terrible question himself, but Enver had to quell his annoyance if this was going to continue.

"How did you get in," he asks with a touch more force than he intended.

Clearly Jack caught this annoyance and seems to find it amusing, but quickly relents the information. Reaching into his pocket he displays four empty vials held between the knuckles of his right hand. "Your steel watch need to scan for invisibility more often."

He knew the answer the moment the vials came out, rolling his eyes and straightening, "An issue with power output that I do not have the form factor efficiency to solve, yet." In simpler terms, he didn't have room for a larger engine or the means to make a smaller one equally powerful. Another annoyance, like a drop in the sea, but the quick and willing answer calmed the waves. He pauses, then lifts a clawed finger, "One moment."

The chosen of Bane walks back over to the larger, ornate chair just in sight of Jack's perch, wrapping a hand around the arm. A loud, screeching sound echoes around the chamber as Enver drags the chair to the bedroom area. Jack seems... hm. Amused? Exasperated? Delighted? At the action, or the result? He couldn't quite tell.

Either way, with the chair positioned facing Jack, he takes his seat, heel resting on the edge of the chair and one elbow propped on the arm. "Go on," he invites with a turn of his hand.

Jack's back straightens, his feet shifting to press the bottoms together and the sides of his knees flat on the floor in a butterfly like position. No loss of flexibility then.

Jack's question comes quicker this time. "What did my butler do that had annoyed me?"

That question gets a soft chuckle out of him.

[gamesbyalbie]

The Cursed Journey

PART 5: BRAINSTORM

FIVE YEARS AGO

"So, what are you working on?" Min-joon was at the stove. He wasn't using it—he was using the kettle—but I literally didn't have a counter in that apartment. What I had was a sheet of plywood laid across the stove's burners (I think that's what they're called, but that also seems a bit too on the nose).

I didn't cook—still don't—so the kettle lived on that plywood board along with a cup containing two sets of utensils, a pair of chopsticks, and one sharp knife. My mug and tea collection took up one shelf in my "kitchen", but the others had been repurposed for book storage.

I was sitting on my bed, leaning against a mountain of pillows and scribbling in a notebook. "Nothing good." I tried to erase a line so intensely that it ripped the page. "Ugh!" I tore it from the book, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it across the room.

"Dammit," I whispered, because—naturally—it missed the bin by at least half a meter.

Min-joon chuckled as he passed me a cup of tea. "Here."

"Thanks." I held the cup below my face, giving myself a mini steam facial and savoring the aroma. The tea was Earl Grey. Specifically, it was this kind with extra bergamot I could only find at a corner shop on Fifth. Min-joon had also used my favorite mug—but I don't think he knew that at the time. It was this lovely dark blue mug with the spines of Ursula K. Le Guin books wrapping around the body. I was shattered myself when it broke during my last move.

"Probably need to let it steep for a while." He advised, taking a seat on the foot of my bed. I noticed that he was stirring his drink with a fork.

"Why are you—"

"Both your spoons were dirty. Which—if I may add—is pretty pathetic. No self-respecting adult has less than three spoons."

"Fascinating." I murmur, face still hovering over my mug. "You assume I have self-respect."

He snorted. "Right. My bad." A smirk lanced across Min-joon's face. He gestured at me then vaguely at the rest of my studio. "I should probably judge this book by its cover."

"Asshole," I whispered affectionately. "So, what are you forking?"

Min-joon snickered. "Instant coffee."

I shivered. My face twisted into a visage of pure disgust. "I don't get how you stomach that stuff."

"It's good."

"It's vile."

"Well, if it's so gross why do you have it?"

"Because I knew you were coming." I responded and took a sip of my tea. "Mm." I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. "That's good." When I opened them again, Min-joon was staring at me. He hadn't moved and his coffee fork was still in his hand. He was just smiling. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

He tore his gaze away. "I've no idea what you're talking about." I rolled my eyes. "But, back to my question: what are you working on? 'Nothing good' is not an acceptable answer."

I sighed and set my mug on the window sill. "Fine." I went to toss him my notebook but he raised his index finger.

"Wait. Throwing is not our strong suit. Remember?" He pointed at the bin.

I rolled my eyes even harder but bent at the waist, placing the book in his outstretched hand. 

"Thank you very much. And what am I looking at? A toddler's first attempt at writing?"

I yanked the book out of his hand. "If you're gonna be a dick—"

"I'm kidding." He took it back. "Your chicken scratch is mostly legible."

"Thank you, I know." I fully reclined on the pillows and crossed my arms over my head. "Anyways, I was working on that Greek myth retelling—the queer, cyberpunk one—but I'm struggling with some of the smaller plot points. So, I'm trying to come up with something new but I can't come up with anything good! The only cool ideas I'm getting are stories that no one else will be interested in and everything else feels dull and derivative."

"Okay." He took a sip of his coffee while flipping through my notebook. "Where's the problem?"

"What?" I sat straight up, hands slapping against my comforter. "What do you mean? It should be pretty obvious. I just said—"

"What you just said is that you have some cool ideas. Great! Do you feel inspired to write them?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Do they excite you?"

"Sure—"

"Then write them! I don't see a problem. Like, this—" He pointed to a hastily scrawled paragraph I'd almost ripped out yesterday. "This sounds really fucking cool."

"But it's... weird!"

"So? Weird is good! We're both weird. I write weird shit. And—if I may add—that's going pretty well."

"You are an exception."

"No, I am not. Not that it matters! People put too much emphasis on 'success', whatever that's supposed to mean." Min-joon sighed and tilted his head to the side. "Ody, why do you write?"

I deliberated for a moment, stripping away the dozens of reasons to find the core truth. "Because I love it."

"Then don't judge yourself based on what you assume others will think. Fuck everyone else. Write for you. Give yourself permission to love what you're doing and just do what you love."

"That's what you do?"

"It is now." He rubbed my hand with his thumb. "Ever since I quit. I mean, life gets in the way sometimes, but yeah. In general, I only do things I love."

"And what do I do when I hit another block?"

Min-joon shrugged. "There's no clear, universal answer to that. It differs for everyone, but I think people try to force themselves to write too much and beat themselves up unnecessarily. Only write when you feel like it. Take breaks. Try new things. Don't be afraid to stop, pivot, or start anew. I don't know." He trailed off. We were silent for a moment. 

"Okay." I finally mumbled. "Well, thank you for the private lecture."

He was taking another sip when I said that and I'm pretty sure some coffee went up his nose as he laughed. "You're very welcome."

"So," I smirked, glancing at the paragraph he'd pointed to. "To summarize: in your professional opinion, I should go ahead and write weird shit."

"Fuck yeah." He smiled. "As long as you like it, the weirder the better."

End of Part 5 of ? • LAST PART • NEXT PART

More Cursed Journey • More by Albie • Image Source

The amazing music video that inspired this:

[leahlandofbooks]

So, Ice Like Fire.....

After finishing Snow like Ashes and wanting to know more about what Mather was thinking after the whole Winter-is-free-I’m-not-really-king-or-an-orphan situation, I appreciated the Mather POVs in this second book.  And based on what I read; I was right.  This guy was going through it.  He’s really good at being aloof and flat as mentioned before but really this guy is an emo angst edge lord teen.  Appreciate it.  I was starting to like his POVs and what was going on in winter while Meira was away more than Meira's POVs and what she had going on.  Speaking of Meira ahem.  She continues to have an identity crisis here.  Going from an orphaned soldier peasant to the heir of a whole fallen kingdom is probably rough at such a young age.  And having all the adults push her to behave and think a certain way definitely did not help.  Meira didn’t want to be a queen, she wanted to be herself, which she describes as a warrior queen. Also, the secrets, all the little secrets that she was keeping from everyone but not everyone at the same time making everything that much more stressful.  Like why not tell those closest to you what’s really going on?  They want to help Winter succeed too.  But again, she's a teenager, she believes because she is queen, she must do everything by herself and play captain-save-the-world by not letting the chasm open. 

Mather and the Thaw

Now the whole chasm situation, a bit confusing right now.  Meira gets close to the chasm, gets yeeted and suddenly her magic is going haywire, and her Hannah thoughts disappear (no explanation on why). She’s finding these keys to open the chasm and every time she touches a key it unlocks a new memory/dream/clue to what her greater purpose is.  She doesn’t want to open the chasm by the way; she wants to find all the keys to get a leg up on Noam because she’s messing up her queenly decisions and borderline letting Noam take over Winter.  Meira wants to get rid of all magic because magic bad, so she has the epiphany to off herself by yeeting herself into the chasm.  Literally on page 454 she goes “Those keys held magic that bent specifically to me, because now I know that the only way to save everyone is to throw myself into the chasm-” Why, what, how did she get to this conclusion, clearly, I missed the answer in all the clues we were given.  I get that if the bloodlines of the conduits cease to exist then maybe the magic of that kingdom disappears forever? I’m unsure how the chasm, which is supposed to be full of magic, is supposed to erase all magic in this world.  If so, just throw all the conduits in there and lock it up.  Or maybe since this Decay is the biggest threat, just throw the Decay in there.  

Meira looking back on how she's low-key ruining everything

The way the Decay acts now, It’s like it’s own separate entity of darkness (duh).  Because why does both Angra (I knew he would come back) and Raelyn have Decay powers?  They can just split it up and share it? Why can’t conduit magic work like that too? Unless the pure version of the Decay is actually locked up in the Magic chasm and that's why the keys were a little too easy to find.  The first one being found was cool, not going to lie, but the second one!  Meira just happened to walk past a bookshelf and a glint of light at the right angle that revealed the Order of Lustrate symbol just happened to catch her attention.  And of course, the key is right there.  Like, all this time and no one saw that symbol?  I guess they saw it but didn’t think anything of it.  Even Meira thought finding the keys was too easy. I think it’s so easy because the keys want to be found, because the chasm wants to be opened because there is secretly healing world magic that will save the world that's been locked and imprisoned there by the Decay cult.  Or we’re throwing the Decay in there, either or.  

Miera basically being gifted the keys

Okay enough about the magic.  We have to talk about best boy.  Favorite boy, who was thrown to the wolves, dragged through a pit a mud with thorns and then thrown 100 times over into a pit of hellfire.  Best boy that deserves all the good in this world.  Ahem, that would be Theron.  First of all, Meira was friend zoning him so hard the entire book.  They would hug, kiss, hold each other, do couple things, all for Meira to constantly call him a ~friend~.  And then she’s constantly lying to him, then feeling guilty for constantly lying to her ~friend~.  And when Theron is acting all weird, especially when he tells Noam about the Magic Chasm, she sees her ~friend~ as a newfound threat but doesn’t talk to her ~friend~ or (anyone) about her concerns.  But then after some reflection she regrets that she didn’t see his change and that she let this happen to her ~friend~.  Like Meira girl, you knew something was off about Theron, you even had your little visions of what went down in Abril.  Meira should’ve pressed him more on the topic.  Why would a total dweeb like Theron suddenly want to become a political war-God.  *Heavy disappointing sigh*.  I hate Angra for messing with best boy and I hate that he had to go through that all alone.  Unlike Meira who chose to go through her troubles alone when she had a whole bunch of support but refused it. I really hope Theron returns to his former self in the third book.  #JusticeforTheron #FreeTheron   

nothing here, just me sad with the Theron fiasco

 I also hate how Meira just randomly decides Mather is the guy for her *cries*.  First of all, Mather and Meira were not talking after Winter was freed (months).  Mather was being an emo edgelord doing his very best to actively avoid her.  Then this entire book, they had 2 interactions.  One in the beginning and the other during all the chaos at the end.  How she came to this conclusion is beyond me.  Literally, as her ~friend~, Theron, is losing his mind in a jail cell chained to a wall, she’s hugging Mather and goes “He’ll keep my kingdom safe. He’ll keep our kingdom safe, and knowing that, makes me cling to him all the tighter.  He was a choice I should have made too”.  And then after a paragraph more the book ends. REEEEEEEE MEIRA.  The fact that Meira feels tingly for Mather because he wants to protect Winter *scoffs* Just say you want a nationalist boyfriend, Meira!  What about Theron? His goal was for the greater good *sobs*.  I guess on a positive note, I don’t dislike Mather as much as I did the first book.  I liked his POVs and him standing up to Cordell’s orders and creating the little Thaw army. He's earned my respect.  But still, I was team Theron.  

How Meira treated Theron

One aspect I really enjoyed about the book was the ventures into the different kingdoms.  Not a lot may have happened, but the world building was great, and I liked learning more about each kingdom and why and how they operate.  I also really like Ceridwen.  She’s pretty cool.  I like her and Meira's' relationship.  Ceri seems to inspire her because, to me at least, Ceri seems more like the warrior princess/queen Meira aspires to be.  Also, Garrigan! *sobs* And shout out to Nessa for being a real one and the only one to call Meira out on her B.S! She needs a promotion!  R.I.P Alysson

Visual representation of the last 40 pages

Still a lot of unanswered questions and WTF’s going on, I will be moving onto the last book :(

[pranilozabcufashion]

Lookbook- Pages 3&4

For pages 3 and 4 of the lookbook, I had decided I wanted this double-page spread to be about the colour palette.  sticking with the theme for the background I had found this red and black image of a flower in the wind and used it as a background, I wasn't fully able to fit it properly onto the full page so I had decided to place it at an awkward angle that I thought would seem decent enough, and had selected the empty part and used the content aware fill tool to artificially fill in the rest of the image,  Photoshop was able to do this by taking parts of the image that wasn't selected and using AI was able to fill in the selected part, and the results had turned out amazingly. 

I have then found a paper rip effect PNG image online and using the blend mode, setting it to  Hard Light so that the whites would show more, erasing some of the dark parts underneath to give the page a sort of bent-over look, and I had placed it in the top right corner and filled the outer parts of the ripped image with black using the Paint Bucket tool giving the effect that part of the page had been ripped off I'd also had the idea of a hand coming out of the page as if something/someone was escaping the lookbook, and I was very happy with the results. 

Next was the challenge of finding a creative way to represent the colour palette.  we were given the task of having up to five colors for the colour palette which I had already chosen from the creative reset trend board and added one of my own, which I had chosen to be just harshly bright white, as well as replacing the black for a slightly different shade. and were given the choice to rename them which I had done; Luscious Red was Blood Red, Dark Cherry was Dark Ruby Red, Circular Grey was Gravestone Grey, I had replaced standard Black for a shade called Midnight Black, which I had renamed to Eternal Black and had added a shade of white which I had renamed to Cocaine White.

After brainstorming ideas for how I could represent the colour palette I decided to go with using Roses, as they can come in all sorts of colors and work well for this trend. I found different images of roses in different positions so im not using the same image representing each color from the pallet which would look repetitive and boring. I had also used the Color Selector tool to select each color from the palette on the WGSN website and save them onto a Swatches file so that I am able to use these colours whenever I want, as well as making it easier for me to access each color easily.  After finding each rose image and placing them in the top left-hand corner, I had used the Selection tool to select a rose, created a new layer and use the Paint Bucket tool to click over the selection which would have each respective color on top of the rose image;  I had then turned down the opacity as to not have the Rose image be taken over by the color, I then used the Blend tool and set it to 'Color' as to properly represent each color from the palette accurately and respectively.  This process had taken quite a while for me to do as Roses do come in reds and whites so to accurately show the colors from the color palette and not have the original color of the Roses image impact the color palette was difficult, but I am happy I was able to overcome this.

Next, I had decided to add a grain effect over this DPS  which I had then later decided I had wanted to be on every page of this lookbook, so I had gone back to the previous two spreads and use the same grain effect over them by simply clicking, dragging and dropping them while having them open on different tabs, I'd also add a text to this spread labeling each color respectively with the color palette name i had come up with, as well as having a small description about the colours are used in this trend. 

Finally, for this double-page spread I had added images of more models that again represent what this trend would look like in-person, I had an image that showed a model in a revealing mesh dress/long top which sort of looked like blood had been dripping down from the neck which I was a fan of, but unfortunately the image did not show their face, however, I was able to overcome this by simply placing where their head would be by the hand that was coming out from behind the page. I also went through the same process I had with the other pages where I would use the Levels Adjustment tool to change the brightness and look of each image as well as using the Vector tool to get rid of the background and also have each and every layer be put in its respective folder.  I had also found out about being able to lock layers/ folders so that once locked they are unable to be adjusted or moved this would make my work easier as once I am happy with the placement of certain images or text I can lock them so they are not interfered with If I'm wanting to change something else.

[kyberphilosopher]

Reverse Flash

A backwards version of your favorite speedster comes searching for Barry, only to find you instead. 

Word Count: 2403 Warnings: Crude Humor. Not proof read yet because I’m too tired. 

As per my latest fics, the gender of the reader is not specified. 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Barry was always nice to you.

Well, Barry was nice to everyone. I mean, his parents named him Barry. He was set up for a life of cheekiness before he was even born. But Barry was nice to you even after ‘the incident’. Barry was nice to you when everyone else stopped. On top of that, Barry was being nicer to you than usual lately.

Probably because he and Iris were having a rough spot.

That was the only annoying thing. Barry liked you, and he was interested in you, but you were still second place. He was just using you. He wouldn’t marry you, or feel a deep longing for you. He’d just take you on ice skating rink dates in the winter and give you the best Valentine’s day of your life every year. Which is everyone’s dream, you guess, but it wouldn’t have been genuine, no matter what Barry managed to convince himself.

Barry’s little support team seemed to be on the same page as you (which was a first), which both added to and subdued your aggravation. All of them were in agreement of the simple fact: you were no good for Barry. Mr. Flash was the only one who didn’t seem to get the memo.

In the very beginning, things weren’t like how they were now. Team Flash or whatever the name was considered you good colleague, and they trusted you because Allen trusted you. You had been friends with Barry longer than anyone else there. And of course you were smart, and you handled annoying journalists and incriminating footage like it was nothing. But then you’d suggested using lethal force to subdue one of the Flash’s biggest problems. That’s when the air changed. That’s when people decided you should not now, not ever go on a date with him. It would throw off the whole rhythm of the team, probably Barry’s morals and possible the timeline. Lucky you.

Though flat out rejecting Barry might make it worse. You had been irritable lately. Maybe a little more sarcastic than normal. What if you snap, and then the team snaps too? And sweet little Barry is too kind to tell you off? God, you knew you were the worst, but the thought alone seemed like more than just ‘the worst’. It was like a tornado of stinky shit just barreling toward you, somehow simultaneously faster than the speed of light and slower than a turtle filled with rocks for organs.

And it was all definitely Barry Allen’s fault.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

So, that’s why you’re here now. Stuck with watching Headquarters while all the speedsters go out and... speed. Who knows. You’re out of the loop with the whole... speed demon thing. You’re pretty sure they have a group chat without you. Fuckin’ nerds.

Your legs are stretched out to the desk in front of you. They cross over each other at the ankles, to the left of the big computer monitor that’s supposed to display the heartbeats of the team but is instead displaying something from cartoon network. A near empty bag of Chinese food sits at your side, it’s contents littered across the table.

As you chew, you look around the room. Several suits in display cases curve against the wall in a half circle, illuminated by blue light. Some are burgundy, some are silver, and some are golden. And you could smash every single one of them right now.

But you won’t, and you don’t. Not to say it isn’t tempting- it is. You still don’t touch the suits. 

God, what’s been wrong with you recently? Barry was your friend, and yet you’d been so annoyed with him. His flirting had only made it worse. Wally wasn’t any better. He got even more annoying once thinking about how childish, yet powerful he was. All the Kid Flash’s were just temporary brats that never stayed, whether you  liked them or not. And Iris wasn’t a fan of you. That was fine, because you weren’t exactly a friend of Iris’s either. So the most important part of your life that literally depended on superhuman existence and stopping crime was teetering because of pure social discomfort. Typical.

You’re watching the screen that serves as the closest light in the room as you shovel the next bite of rice between your lips. Neon colors make the shadows across your face feel alive and electric. It makes the glow in your eyes more prominent, encouraged by the childish nature of the media. You’ve just finished a snarky personal comment and given yourself another bite of rice when he appears to you.

He looks like Barry. The only difference is that he’s the complete opposite.

Instead of scarlet, his speed suit is yellow with red and dark grey accents. They remind you of blood lightning at the seams. Even under his half mask, he seems so familiar but so much more defined than your friend. As he exits the slice of colorful air and thunder, the heels of his shoes skidding across the floor, the red glow in his eyes settles into a calmer thrum.

And you’re still frozen in place, eyes wide as you still yourself mid chew.

The yellow speedster settles his orbs on you. They’re intelligent, and in the reflection of the little light in the room you can see they’re not red, but blue. And you? You’re just a deer in the headlights. 

“Aw, you’re not Barry,” he groans in disappointment, standing straighter as his arms cross over his chest. 

You finally continue your chewing, keeping your wide eyes on the intruder. Then you swallow it down. In your chest, your heart thump, thump, thumps with something. Fear? Not quite. Anxiety? Almost. It’s something else. Something more... intuitive. And the way this man looks at you makes you think that he can hear it, even from where he stands. That he knows.

“Uh... no?”

The man responds not a millisecond after you’ve gotten the words out. “Where is he? Where’s Barry Allen?”

Woof. His voice is throaty and laced with sarcasm, even though he’s clearly deathly serious. But the vibrations send a funny spasm straight to that little place between your legs, making the nerves in your spine dance with alertness. Arousal. Barry was never able to do that, let alone with just the sound of his voice.  

“Doing something?” you decide. “I don’t know.”

The golden man cocks his head to the side, almost smirks, and takes a step forward. “Hey, I know you.” His arms uncross. One raises and bends to point at you. “You’re Barry’s tech support. I remember reading about you in his museum.”

Your brows furrow. Hurriedly, you clear the take-out box from your lap and begin wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You drop your legs from their position on the desk to their normal position on the floor, knees bent. “Uh... I beg your pardon?”

“Yeah... Y/N L/N. Now I see it.” The man leans back on his heels and looks around the room. The red glow in his orbs burn away completely so it’s just him. “Ah, so this must be before you defected, huh? Interesting.”

“Pardon?!” you call again. Now you’re sitting forward, disbelief across your face. 

Golden speedster smiles. It looks evilly distorted, even though it’s just a normal smile. It curves his face sarcastically. His hands fly upwards as if in surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger, Y/N. You know actually, you’re kind of a villain in my time. This is nice for me.”

“Great, I’ll tell Barry when I see him,” you bite.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Now how about you tell me where Barry is before I erase you from existence.”

“I don’t know,” you repeat as the quick bolt of fear fizzles from your system. Your eyes trail down to his chest for just a quick second, but it’s quick enough to observe yet another difference between your familiar scarlet speedster and him. The circle surrounding the lightning bolt on his chest is facing the opposite direction, red, and that circle is filled with black. It’s as if he were the complete opposite of Barry. A reverse Barry. 

“Yeah you do. Come on.”

You blink once, still in your roll-y chair. 

You’re not sure what to do here. On one hand, this guy radiates pure evil. You should really alert Barry or one of the other members of Team Flash. But for one reason or another you’ve made no attempt to. You’ve got no clue who this dude is other than the fact that he seems more inclined to rip the fabric of time apart than anyone else. There’s no doubt in your mind he really will erase you from existence if you make one wrong move. But what’s the wrong move?

On the other hand, Team Flash has been a bunch of dickhead’s to you. Barry has been ironically slow to the whole thing. Would it be so bad if you did make a wrong move? Not for you, but for your friends? They’d all die, wouldn’t they? This yellow one would end them, and then what? Would it really be so horrible for you? You can’t imagine mourning much.

“I don’t,” you say again, slowly. “They’re in the city. I don’t know where.”

The man seems to think for a moment, cocking his head back so the light behind the glass cases catches his sharpened features. “Hmm.”

Without even blinking, now he’s in front of you. So close, you can smell him. It’s not terribly strong, it’s just masculine. But it’s also flowery, with a dash of sweat from running. And then there’s something more. Something... metallic? 

Both his hands clutch the arms of the chair beside you, trapping you as you lean back reflexively. “Did you know that I killed Barry’s childhood best friend before he was born?” the man says lowly. 

On instinct, you prepare yourself to say, ‘Barry doesn’t have a childhood best friend’. Then you realize why. 

He continues. “Would you tell me where Barry was if you did know?”

You don’t even think about it. You’re true to your nature. “I don’t know, would I?”

Blip! You wait to burst into a cloud of nothingness. To never have been born or even get to be a ghost. But fifteen seconds later you’re still alive. And from the way Barry talks about being a Flash, fifteen seconds is a long time for someone of that caliber. 

The man is back by the cases of suits now. You can see his muscles through his suit. They’re more defined than Barry’s, thank God. 

“I think you would. But it’s gonna be hard to do that when you’ve got my fingers vibrating into your skull.”

“What?”

“It’s going to be hard to speak when my fingers are inside you.”

You cup a hand against your ear. “Huh?”

“I said-” The man stops. His eyes narrow, arms crossing over his chest once more. “Oh, I see.” A short, dry- but genuine- laugh falls from his throat. “Very funny. Very, very funny.”

Suddenly, your eyebrows crease together in confusion. You place both palms on the arms of the chair for leverage as you push yourself into a stand, as if stirred by some great, important purpose. “Wait. Did you say you were going to stick your fingers inside me?”

“I knew you and I were the same,” he drawls. He sounds entertained. As if in his eyes, missing Barry and meeting you instead was the best outcome he could’ve hoped for. 

“Can’t you just...” Your shoulders slump as you glance around. “Just kill Barry and get on with it?”

“Aw, no. This is far more interesting.”

“Fingers in my skull...?” you whisper, half to yourself. Then you look up to him with a snap. “You are so weird,” you tell Reverse Barry, emphasizing it with a low point. “So weird.”

“Want me to tell your future?” 

Again with the voice and the nerves in that special place. 

“I gotta say, it’s kind of disturbing,” the man smirks. “You’ll love it.”

“Weird.”

Across the base, just two hallways away, something clicks. It’s a familiar click. It’s the click of the door opening. 

Quickly, you glance backwards, then lean down to pause the show on the computer. You hadn’t even realized it was still going. Once that’s done, the man is still standing in front of you. That sinister and yet innocent grin is still dancing across his face, though his steely eyes are totally locked on you. 

“What, weirdo? You know where he is now. Aren’t you gonna go get him?”

“You want me to so badly, don’t you?” Reverse Barry whispers. You just give him a look. 

“I’ll be back for you.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

And then the speedster is gone. Right on time, too, cause Barry jogs into the room not a second later. 

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” you turn around. 

“Did I just... see someone here?” Barry points towards your end of the room in his scarlet suit. Huh. Reverse Barry was taller too. 

“What are you on about?” you throw casually. “Nobody’s been here but me since you left.”

“Are you sure?” the Flash keeps pushing. You hate it. Pushing. 

“Yes, Barry,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure. Oh, by the way, Barry. Did you have a childhood best friend?”

Barry frowns. “No, why?”

You smile to yourself as you turn back away from him. The other speedster’s footsteps are coming closer and closer. You can hear them echo off the walls. 

“No reason,” you answer with a smirk just as one of them enters the room, probably to give you crap again.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Fun fact, Reverse Flash is actually my favorite villain in DC comics. Bro is vicious in the comics. I just hate all the live action versions of him we get. Lego DC Villains Reverse Flash and Injustice 2 are the best versions. Injustice 2 is my personal preference. I’d like to do more with this but, who knows. Depends how this is received. #lol

[mizunetzu]

wait okay i have so many ideas you have no clue- okay so basically y/n is too scared to confess to either ushijima or shinsou (you decide lol) so he just puts love notes in his locker :)) but ushijima/shinsou catches him one day so he teases him about it but he liked y/n too so he lowkey confesses and its super fluffy i- 🥺🥺 i've had this idea for so long but i have no clue where to start writing it myself lolll

Guess who...took 4 months...to do Mr. Shinsoussimps request...not me...ahahaha...what are you talking about...BUT ANYWAYS IM SO SORRY MR SHINSOU PLS TAKE THIS FIC AS MY APOLOGIES

——————

Ushijima x reader - Secret Admirer Love Letter-kun!

⚠️warnings - none

Pronouns- male, he/him

——————

(Y/n’s) hands shook as he traced the linings of his love letter.

It had a red, heart-shaped sticker on the seal flap, with the words ‘To Ushijima-san’ written in royal purple across the back. The letter had slight crinkles from the shaky grip (Y/n) held it with.

His heart raced purely thinking about how Ushijima would react. Would he even react? Or would he just look at him with that blank stare and walk past him? Would he be ridiculed for being a man giving a love letter to another man?

Every single intrusive thought made (Y/n) want to tear up the letter and flush it down a toilet. Nonetheless, he stood next to Ushijima’s locker, waiting for him to appear.

His legs shook. His heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest. He could physically feel the sweat running down his forehead. He was probably gaining stares from other students for standing near Ushijima’s locker and panicking silently.

All these ‘what-if’s’ was beginning to make (Y/n) second-guess his decision. Maybe he couldn’t do this after all...

No! He had to! He’s been harboring his feelings for Ushijima for years now, and he was getting nowhere! Even if it was rejection, and he certainly hoped it was not, he needed an answer!

Just as if right on cue, (Y/n) heard the familiar deep voice of Ushijima coming down the hall. He wasn’t saying much, but the accompanied grunts of acknowledgement to Tendou’s ramblings was enough proof it was him. Without thinking, (Y/n’s) panic took over him, shoving his love letter into Ushijima’s locker and dashing out of the way.

He blended himself in with the gaggle of students near their lockers, watching Ushijima as he opened his own locker.

“Ara?” Tendou cocked his head when the letter (Y/n) slipped in fluttered out. It landed on the floor gracefully. Ushijima bent over and plucked it off the ground.

“Our Wakatoshi~kun has a secwet admiwer?” Tendou squashed his face together and boared curious eyes into the heart-shaped sticker on the note. Ushijima grunted.

“It seems to be a love letter.” Ushijima’s low voice sent even more panic through (Y/n). He didn’t want to be there while he opened the letter. But here he was, 10 feet away from him as he carefully peeled off the heart sticker from the envelope.

Ushijima’s eyes silently scanned the letter, it’s meticulous, thought-out writing filling Ushijima’s eyes. The silence rang so, so loud to (Y/n), as he watched Ushijima read his love letter with his emotionless face.

After what seemed like forever, Ushijima lifted his head up from the note. (Y/n’s) heart stopped.

“It is a love letter.” (Y/n), and Tendou, deadpanned.

Tendou reached for the letter. “Fiiiiine, then let me see-!”

Ushijima pulled the letter away, raising it above his head and out of Tendou’s easy reach. He lowered the letter and cradled it to his chest.

“No. It’s mine.”

(Y/n’s) heart fluttered. Could this mean-?

“But it does, however, have no name.”

“Awh. Poor Wakatoshi-kun’s admirer must be rewwy shy~”

(Y/n) internally facepalmed. Of course he forgot to sign the note! Why wouldn’t he?! (Y/n) crinkled up his nose. He was still determined to get his feelings to Ushijima.

He turned around, and walked to class. The next day, for sure, he was going to give him a love letter with his signature on it this time.

——

(Y/n) stared down at his paper, then shifted his eyes to the alarm clock sitting tauntingly at his dorm room’s desk, with the bright red numbers 10:35 pm glaring so menacingly at him. Like it was telling him to hurry up and sign the new love letter he just wrote. (Y/n) re-read the letter on his desk for the 6th time that night.

Everything was perfect. It explained his feelings perfectly, explained how long he’d been smitten for him for, hell, he even doodled a small picture of Ushijima himself with a heart next to it in the corner of the page.

Everything was there, except his name.

Did he really want to put his name, though? I mean, (Y/n) saw how...endearing Ushiwaka’s face looked reading his original letter. What if he ruined that when he finds out it was him who wrote it? And not some cute girl?

(Y/n) stared at the empty space on the page where his name was supposed to go. His hand gripped his pencil tighter than he should’ve, and began to write.

‘(L/n) (Y/...’

He stopped. (Y/n) thought about it for awhile, then grabbed his eraser and scrubbed at the name until it was pristine white again.

‘Your secret admirer’

Was all he wrote.

He packaged up the note in another small envelope, pressed a cute little heart sticker to the flap, and went to bed.

——

The next day, (Y/n) made sure to rush to school early to slip the note in his locker. He wanted to see his reaction to his new note. It made him feel sorta high. What kind of face would he make? Would he be delighted? He hoped he would.

(Y/n) crammed the note into Ushiwaka’s locker. No one was around. Good. No one saw him shove the letter through, therefore no one could tell Ushijima it was him. (Y/n) sighed contently, and timpered off somewhere secluded, but somewhere he could still see Ushijima and his locker.

After scrolling on his phone for what seemed like an hour, he heard Tendou’s familiar voice, humming a strange song and trailing next to Ushijima. It was his daily indicator that Ushijima was near. If he could hear Tendou coming, almost 100% Ushijima would be there too. (Y/n) pocketed his phone quickly and peeked behind a row of lockers.

Ushijima silently unhinged his locker, listening to Tendou talk. However, they fell silent when another letter fluttered out from his locker, this time landing so perfectly in his hands.

“Ara ara? Another note from Admirer-chan?”

“Yes. But I know it’s a boy, Tendou.”

(Y/n’s) heart dropped. He watched as Ushiwaka peeled off the heart sticker once more, while continuing his conversation with Tendou.

“Oh yeah? How so?”

Ushijima stopped, and reached into his locker once more. He pulled out (Y/n’s) previous note, and pointed to a line of text scribbled on there so neatly. Tendou raised his eyebrow, and leaned down to inspect the note.

‘-Besides, there’s no way someone as amazing as you can like a guy like me. It’s weird right? I hope you don’t think it’s weird. But I wouldn’t blame you.’

“Ahhhh~ makes sense...” Tendou hooked his arms dramatically over the back of his head. “But do you? Does Wakatoshi-kun think Secret Admirer-kun is weird?”

Ushijima traced the two love letters with his eyes. “I think he’s brave.”

(Y/n) clutched his tightening chest. It suddenly became really hard to breathe. How was Ushijima being so unintentionally sweet?

Tendou cooed. “Awwww, Is our Wakatoshi-kun catching feelings for his Admirer-kun?”

Ushijima folded the two notes back into their envelopes silently. He said nothing to Tendou’s remarks, while gently placing the two love letters back into a safe spot in his locker.

(Y/n) brisk-walked away, flustered, before he could hear his answer.

——

Writing notes and hiding them in Ushijima’s locker became a sort of habit for (Y/n) in the past few weeks.

Every now and then, he’d write a short love letter signed “Your Secret Admirer” or “Admirer-kun” and slip it under Ushijima’s dorm room door or the cracks between his locker. It became an addiction of watching him unravel the note with the tenderness of an angel. For such a big dude, he held each love letter (Y/n) wrote him with such delicacy.

(Y/n) walked with a pep in his step as he arrived to the school building early, like he’d usually been doing. He’d recently been writing small letters, playground compliments like “I think you look nice today!” or “the way you play volleyball gets me all fired up!” but this was the first time in a while he wrote a good chunk of his feelings out.

At first he thought he would make Ushijima uncomfortable, but after many of his personal notes filled with the most wonderful explanations of his feelings, or rambling about dates he’d like to take him on, he’s grown more comfortable with it. Especially after seeing the teeny tiny, barely noticeable blush tinting his cheeks as he read them.

(Y/n) stopped in front of Ushiwaka’s locker. It was a familiar stop, after cramming in letter after letter inside for about a month or two now. It’s been so long that (Y/n) couldn’t even remember himself.

Just as his hand met with the cold metal locker to slip the note in, two hands slammed down on (Y/n’s) shoulders, effectively scaring him shitless.

“I’ve caught you! Secret admirer-kun!”

“Uwaaaah!”

Tendou made a show of flamboyantly pointing his lanky fingers at (Y/n), bending his back father then (Y/n) knew was possible in the process. (Y/n) jittered, swinging his hands in front of him while stuttering incoherently.

“I-it-its not-! It’s not wh-what it-! T-the letter-I was just-I-!”

“There’s no use for it now, Secret-Admirer (L/n)-kun! You’ve been caught red handed!” Tendou stuck his tongue out heartily while (Y/n) broke into a cold sweat. If Tendou kept yelling the whole damn school would hear him.

“I-I’m not the one leaving notes in Ushijima-kun’s locker! I was just-!”

“Oya? Then how did you know Wakatoshi-kun was gettin’ notes in his locker in the first place?” Tendou eyed him down half jokingly. (Y/n) sputtered.

“More importantly...” Tendou dramatically pointed to the envelope half-sticking out from the slits of Ushijima’s locker. “Whaaaaats that!?”

“That’s-!”

There was no use fighting Tendou on this. (Y/n) deflated, defeated and grasping on to the wall of lockers for support. “Uuuuu...”

“So, Secret Admirer-“

“S-stop calling me that! Just (L/n) is fine-!”

“-Secret Admirer-kun, what made you fancy our lovely Wakatoshi-kun?”

(Y/n) turned around, facing the locker as Tendou smiled his usual, Tendou-grin. (Y/n) didn’t wanna look at Tendou and his stupid knowing smirk.

“He’s just...I dunno, he’s just so-cool...and stuff...and he’s so nice...looking...”

“Ah, such sophisticated words-tell me, do you write all of this down in the letters you give him?”

“Hey!” (Y/n) whipped his head around.

Tendou chuckled, and part of (Y/n) wanted to smack him upside the head. Tendous laughter eventually died down, as he pretended to wipe a tear from his cheek. He looked back at (Y/n), who was blushing profusely and had his arms crossed.

“Phew...haha...” Tendou cleared his throat. He pointed straight at (Y/n). “Now, here’s some ultra wise words from Satori-sama!” He mimicked a fake drum roll on his lap, before pointing at (Y/n) again.

“Ja-jun~! You should Wakatoshi-kun how you feel about him!”

(Y/n’s) heart got stuck in his throat. “A-are you crazy! I could never! I-I’m not...I’m not...I’m scared..”

“Hm? But you’re not scared to write about how much you wanna kiss him alllllllll oveeeeeer-?”

“That’s different!” (Y/n) yelled, more quietly this time. He turned back to the locker, and tipped the rest of the note in sticking out inside the slit. The note disappeared through the gap, just like all of its predecessors. “Like this, I can tell him how much I love him without him knowing it was from me! What if he’s disappointed it’s me and not some other dude?”

“I’m veeeeeery sure he won’t be. But suit yourself, I guess.” Tendou shrugged. He turned around and left, but not before saying,

“But you’d better tell him yourself before he finds out from someone else.”

“Wait-what does that mea-“

(Y/n) looked back, only to find Tendou gone. (Y/n) stood there, perplexed, before dashing off to his own locker, so he wouldn’t be spotted near Ushijima’s.

——

Everyday when (Y/n) went to slip another note into Ushiwaka’s locker, Tendou’s words would ring in his mind.

‘You’d better tell him yourself before he finds out from someone else.’

He knew that. He knew that but he couldn’t stop himself from cowardly slipping notes into Ushijima’s locker, just to run and take cover as he opened them up. And one time he could swear Tendou was looking right at him in his hiding spot when Ushijima was reading one of his letter.

(Y/n) shook the thoughts from his head. That happened 3 days ago, and nothing happened. Tendou was probably just trying to scare him into telling him. Yeah. There’s no way anyone could’ve found out about him being Ushijima’s secret admirer.

He huffed and strode up to Ushijima’s locker, just like he did every time before that. No one was in the hallway. There was no footsteps, at least to (Y/n’s) knowledge, and Tendou wasn’t around with his booming voice. If (Y/n) could hear Tendou coming, chances are Ushijima was not too far behind.

Tendou wasn’t there. (Y/n) was safe. He smiled and rose the letter up to the slot in Ushijima’s locker. He slowly crammed the note in, slowly, slowly until-

Slam!

A large, calloused hand slammed against the locker, making (Y/n) jolt up in surprise. (Y/n’s) heart stopped beating. He felt someone lean against his ear, and then they whispered:

“So Tendou was right. You were the one leaving the letters in my locker.”

“Ushijima-kun-!”

(Y/n) whipped his head around by the speed of lightning, pressing himself against the locker wall as if he’d disappear into it. Stupid fucking Tendou! Of course he’d tell Ushijima!

Ushiwaka didn’t move from his spot in front of (Y/n). His arm outstretched on the wall beside (Y/n) didn’t falter either, making him blush even more. God, he wanted to disappear.

The letter, now hidden crudely behind (Y/n) sweaty back, was being smushed as he tried shrinking in on himself.

“I-I-“ (Y/n’s) mouth ran dry. “It’s not what it looks like-!”

“Hm.” Ushijima’s deep voice manage to startle (Y/n), despite being right infront of him. God, he was close. So close. He’s too close. Oh god, why is he so close?

Ushijima suddenly grabbed (Y/n’s) hand, making him sputter in surprise as Ushijima pulled it out gently. A letter with a red heart sticker on the flap was wedged in between (Y/n’s) shaky, sweaty fingers. Ushijima looked at the envelope, while (Y/n) averted his embarrassed eyes.

“...But it’s exactly what it looks like.”

Words perished in (Y/n’s) throat. If the locker would just open up and swallow him whole, now was the time.

Ushiwaka plucked the note out of (Y/n’s) hands, ignoring the small protests of (Y/n) himself. He tried to grab for the letter, but Ushijima held the envelope high above his head and grabbed at (Y/n’s) shivering wrists. (Y/n) squeaked.

“...why are you trying to grab it back if this letter was meant for me in the first place?” Ushijima looked oblivious to (Y/n’s) embarrassment. (Y/n) croaked. He didn’t even register what Ushiwaka said with how strong and warm his grip on his wrists were.

He didn’t realize Ushijima managed to peel off the heart sticker and fish out the note with his hand until he started reading the letter. His eyes scanned the words, even when (Y/n) quietly squirmed protestingly in his grasp.

“Mm.” Ushijima hummed. (Y/n’s) eyes widened when he realized what he wrote in today’s note.

‘Y’know, I think you’re really cool with how you’re so dedicated to your club. But maybe...one day we could grab a bite to eat after your club activities? Just you and me? And maybe if I’m lucky enough I just might get a kiss from the amazing Ushijima Wakatoshi-kun~’

(Y/n) wanted no more but to die then and there. Ushijima looked at (Y/n) with an unreadable gaze.

“Ah. So it seems in today’s letter, you would like to go out for food and kiss. I am free after club activities today at 6. Are you free at that time or must we reschedule?”

(Y/n) met Ushijima’s state with a confused face. He said nothing-he couldn’t say anything. All he could do was muster up a weak “w-wha..?”

“So...you are not free today...?” Ushijima’s face was normal, but he gave off the same vibe a sad, kicked puppy would. It was sorta cute. (Y/n) waved his hands around frantically in Ushijima’s grasp.

“N-no! That’s not it! I-I’m free! I’m totally free! I just-“

“You just what?” Ushijima cocked his head to the side bluntly. (Y/n) opened his mouth to say something, but let it clamp shut quietly.

(Y/n) averted his gaze. “Well...you don’t think it’s...weird that I was the one leaving you love letters?”

“But I already knew you were a man in the first place.”

“Still!” Ushijima was genuinely confused. (Y/n’s) voice died down a bit.

“Aren’t you...y’know...disappointed?”

Ushijima’s gaze never left (Y/n’s) eyes. “Why would I be disappointed?”

“I’m...w-well...it’s just...”

Ushiwaka placed his free hand on the other side of (Y/n’s) face, effectively trapping him in between his arms. Ushijima’s heavy gaze was too much to bear. (Y/n) instinctively averted his gaze away.

“You still haven’t given me a valid reason to be disappointed.”

“I-“

“You’re lovely, I believe you are very attractive, and you leave nice letters of encouragement in my locker everyday.”

“Wait-“

“I believe we both have feelings for each other. Therefore, I do not see why you are so hesitant on just doing what today’s lovely note said.”

“Ushi-“

“Is this just an excuse to turn me down? Were the letters not your true feelings? Because if so you just have to say so-“

“Ushijima-kun!”

(Y/n) rasped out between his fingers. He was covering his blushing face, and Ushijima didn’t know why until he realized his face was centimeters away from (Y/n’s). If it weren’t for (Y/n’s) hands cupping his face, they’d probably be able to kiss with one push closer.

“P-ple-please s-step back...”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Ushijima moved back, but didn’t quite move his arms from their positions on either side of (Y/n). He blinked. Silence engulfed them both, Ushijima bluntly staring at (Y/n) as he blushed and blushed into his hands.

Ushijima figured he should say something, and even open his mouth to speak when (Y/n) suddenly piped up, bringing his hands down from his face.

“I-I’m free...at 6...”

Ushijima blinked again.

“Ah. Today?”

“Yeah..!”

“Lovely. It is decided then. Will you wait for me at the gym after practice? If not I can pick you up from your dorm room.”

(Y/n) fought the urge to pinch his arm to see if he was dreaming or not. “I-I can meet you at the gym!”

Ushijima smiled gently, and that’s probably the first time (Y/n’s) seen him smile ever. It was so coaxing, relaxed and warm, (Y/n) wanted to take of picture of it and just stare at it for days. Ushijima let his hands fall to his sides. Not before giving a pat to (Y/n’s) head.

“It is decided then. It’s a date.”

(Y/n) had to remind himself to thank Tendou later.

——————

Lowkey this was so fun to write~ why don’t y’all leave some love in the comments because of that~~?

[therealvinelle]

Hi, your metas are super interesting, and even if I really enjoy fanon twilight, it's really cool to read opinions based only on canon too!

So my question is about the sexual orientation of the Cullens, do you think they all straight?

For example i saw someone saying that Edward maybe was demisexual and it left me thinking, so i just wanted to know your opinions about it :)

In short, no.

In alphabetical order:

Alice is with a man, but without getting into the mess that is Alice/Jasper here, I don’t think theirs is a particularly physical relationship. I mean, if Alice wanted to get laid, she could just decide to fuck Jasper, enjoy the vision, and bam. Itch scratched. Thanks, Jazz. Alright, I’ll be serious. Alice and Jasper are with each other because the other represents salvation, not so much because of a personal or physical attraction but because of mysticism. So to me that doesn’t really say much about Alice’s preference. All the same I can’t see Alice having a particular preference, she’s too... Alice. Although it is easier to picture her with women. She is also the second half of the Alice/Bella homoerotic extravaganza, which makes heterosexual Alice even more farfetched to me. So, bisexual or lesbian Alice.

Bella shows clear attraction to women as well as men. She’s attracted to Rosalie, Alice, Edward, and Carlisle. I’ll just give you guys quotes: Of the three boys, one was big — muscled like a serious weight lifter, with dark, curly hair. Another was taller, leaner, but still muscular, and honey blond. The last was lanky, less bulky, with untidy, bronze-colored hair. He was more boyish than the others, who looked like they could be in college, or even teachers here rather than students. The girls were opposites. The tall one was statuesque. She had a beautiful figure, the kind you saw on the cover of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue, the kind that made every girl around her take a hit on her self-esteem just by being in the same room. Her hair was golden, gently waving to the middle of her back. The short girl was pixielike, thin in the extreme, with small features. Her hair was a deep black, cropped short and pointing in every direction. (Twilight, page 9) This is the Cullens’ introduction. I won’t spend much time on it, just notice the difference between Rosalie and the others. Rosalie is highlighted in a way Alice is not, and Edward is at first glance only the boyish one of the guys. Rosalie was the Cullen whose beauty immediately stood out to Bella. It was hard to decide who was the most beautiful — maybe the perfect blond girl, or the bronze-haired boy. (sic.) Bella has realized by now that Edward’s a grade A hottie, but she’s still torn between him and Rosalie. Bella then gets to know Alice, and they become friends who take showers together(!). Rosalie may be the most attractive Cullen woman, but Alice is the one Bella gets emotionally close to. We get this in New Moon:  UNNATURALLY STILL AND WHITE, WITH LARGE BLACK EYES intent on my face, my visitor waited perfectly motionless in the center of the halt, beautiful beyond imagining.  (...) I locked my arms around her, gasping to inhale as much of the scent of her skin as possible. It wasn't like anything else—not floral or spice, citrus or musk. No perfume in the world could compare. My memory hadn't done it justice. (New Moon, page 191) Bella never thought she’d never see any of the Cullens again, so for her to be hysterical and ecstatic upon seeing her second favorite is not by itself damning. I’m sure she’d be ecstatic to see Emmett too. It’s that fact that she’d missed Alice’s scent that’s interesting. The scent of her skin was something Bella was aware of before they parted. And while it may be tempting to say “it’s because they’re vampires, Bella’s admiring them like she would a work of art!”, Bella never dwells on Esme, Jasper, or Emmett in this way. Jasper and Emmett especially are not admired beyond the introduction of their characters. We never hear about what any of them smell like, nor does Bella remark upon their beauty after waking up a vampire. Carlisle and Edward, by comparison, are men she keeps noticing. Bella finds Carlisle blindingly beautiful when she first sees him as a vampire, and there’s this from New Moon: Though it erased the sting, it reminded me of the gash, and I watched Carlisle's face carefully to distract me from what his hands were doing. His hair gleamed gold in the bright light as he bent over my arm. (New Moon, page 18) There’s thinking someone is pretty, and then there’s gazing lovingly upon their face instead of pain killers. Bella is bisexual.

Carlisle moved in with a very gay man, had a close relationship with him, lived with him for the sake of his company for decades, and only left because of dietary differences. We don’t know for sure whether they actually had an affair or not, but the fact remains that of all the Cullens, Carlisle is the one who is implied to have had a homosexual relationship in canon. He loses his straight card based on that alone. Also gonna link this clip, because I’m Mac listening to Edward talk about how young Carlisle lived with this sexy Mycenaean Greek for a few decades when he was young. Aro is all the santas. Carlisle is bisexual.

Edward... oh boy. His brain is supposedly seventeen, and yet this very interesting thing happens in his relationship with Bella where he never notices her body. Not ever. By body I mean curves. Edward notices Bella’s skin, her frailty, her humanity. He praises her blushes, her doe-like eyes, her warmth, her softness, her swan-like neck, her delicious scent. The feminine aesthetic. He does not once notice her tits. The only tits he is on record noticing belong to Siobhan, and it’s because she has an impossible to ignore rack: She was profoundly female in shape—aggressively, forcefully female. (Midnight Sun, chapter Probability) It’s one thing for him to be old-fashioned and too quintessentially Edward to even think the word “boob”, but in 700+ pages of Midnight Sun there’s just this absence of this seventeen-year-old noticing her curves. More damningly, when seeing Alice’s vision of vampire!Bella, Edward is horrified at the sight of his love cold and hard. He doesn’t describe vampire!Bella by any of the positives, like “flawless”. Edward is attracted to the human, not the woman. What that means for his sexuality... well, I’m going to go ahead and point out that he is very weird about Carlisle, and it’s damning that the personality he projects onto Bella is so similar to Carlisle. I hesitate to apply a label here, but in my own, personal, headcanon we’re veering towards homosexual. Deeeeeeply closeted homosexual.

Emmett is straight. Straightest guy ever to straight.

Esme is pretty clearly taken with Carlisle. Though if she were to feel attracted towards another woman, I imagine she’d have no idea what to make of that, if she even recognized it for what it was. She’s from a very different time and still living in that time, and she continues to be very sheltered. Still, as per my personal headcanon, I see her as straight.

Jasper, who knows. Though if he’s into guys, he has probably gone for it in the past. I suppose I should write a meta on vampires and sexual norms in general, but in short I don’t think they all live monogamously like the Cullens. STDs and pregnancies are unheard of, as is social ostracizing. Vampires are hedonistic, Twilight vampires more so than any other. Which in turn means I don’t think Maria and Jasper were monogamous. A couple, sure, but I don’t think Maria would say “oh noes, I can’t, I’m with Jasper!” if someone she was attracted to made an overture, and same goes for Jasper. So, if Jasper was into guys, then sure. I can see Jasper/Peter happening, or even Charlotte/Jasper/Peter. Jasper is certainly into women, with the possibility of guys as well. And if so, then it’s probably happened.

Rosalie I’m shocked is with a guy in the first place, everything about her screams lesbian. However, she’s clearly into Emmett, so apparently she’s bisexual.

(I’m not including Renesmée in this, since she’s three months old by the time the series conclude.)

This all being said, several of these people are from very different times and wouldn’t have the same concepts of sexuality internalized as we do, so how they’d identify is a very different matter.

[demonicheadcanons]

Obey Me Undateables / Side Dishes and Little Affections

AN: The last post for the brothers was ridiculously popular and this was requested so! Here we go. Just little ways the undateables are affectionate to the MC. Romance-coded but not for Luke bc he’s baby. I did this on mobile so forgive me for any formatting issues, and for the lack of a read more!

As you may have seen, I struggled a lot with Solomon because I really view him as being indifferent. I’m sorry if his is a little underwhelming! I also wrote this differently from the last one because I forgot how I formatted it, sorry ;u;

.

Diavolo

- He’s busy all the time. Like truly, this man rarely gets a break, and even when he does, his mind is still tick-tick-ticking away. Crawl into his lap and hold his face in your hands and he’ll finally relax, you can see the clouds clear away from his eyes. He kisses your forehead and holds your face in return, shining again. It only takes a few moments for him to settle completely, to shut off all his worries.

- He really just,,, likes to pick you up? So long as you’re not absolutely terrified he’ll completely randomly walk up to you and lift you up and carry you around with him or just hold you there. Bonus points if you wrap your arms around his shoulders and / or bury your face into his neck. Extra bonus points if you kiss or nuzzle against his cheek. His grin is so wide and bright it could light up the whole Devildom. Additionally, if you run and jump at him he will drop everything to catch you, no matter what. He has not and will never fail to catch you, and it makes him laugh so hard you can feel it in the way his arms and chest shake as he holds you.

- He likes to lay down beside you and link pinkies. It’s so soft, such a delicate little thing, and yet you trust him enough to let him do that. The minimal contact makes it feel even more special to him, there’s no pressure there. You’re close and he has a reminder of your presence beside him and it’s enough, it’s enough.

- With Diavolo, if you decide to teach him cute human things, you might regret it later, because he remembers them all. You put your palm out once, telling him that he’s supposed to rest his chin there, and from then on he’ll do it immediately. He will also expect you to do it too, and his timing is completely random. You’ll be talking to Barbatos and he’ll hold his hand out and wait for you to rest your chin in it. When you do, he pokes at your cheek with his thumb and walks off again.

- Please play cute games with him. Farming games like Stardew Valley or things like Terraria and Minecraft, or the Sims, or anything like that. He also doesn’t mind matches on more competitive games, but he likes to relax and make a house or a farm with you, and his reactions to everything is adorable; you two make Sims and he cheers when they get married, and even if they’re not representing you two and are just random Sims, he jokes about how you should do that too someday. He’s amazing at games that are strategy based, but prefers to play anything else so he can relax and not think for a while.

.

Barbatos

- Random tickles. It’s completely unexpected and he is very sneaky - the first few times it’ll catch you heavily off guard, and even after that it’s hard to predict when you’ll feel his gloved hands brush against your sides. He’s an expert at guessing where someone is ticklish, and abuses that power when alone with the people he loves (namely you!)

- Food fights but on a small scale. He’ll walk past you in the kitchen and brush flour across your face, disguising it as him simply being affectionate as he passes by, a reminder that he cares about you and is thinking about you even as he works. His movements are graceful and confident as always, to the point where it’s actually quite hard to even realise what he’s done. He will consider telling you before you leave the kitchen. He really will consider it.

- Similarly, if his hands are wet, just before drying them off he’ll flick water in your direction and then act like he has no idea what you’re talking about when you ask if he just did that. Really, MC, why would he do that? He’s been so busy cooking, and you’re accusing him of doing something so childish?

- He quite likes just, holding you up and carrying you around but in a different way to Diavolo. Instead of Princess carries, it’s more like if you jump onto someone and wrap your legs around their waist and your arms around their shoulders? He loves carrying you around like that. Cling onto him! He’s not fond of having you cling to his back, but his sides or front is fine.

- Barbatos tends to keep an eye on you and it’s really hard to tell, but if you’re in the same room as him he’s keeping tabs on what you’re doing. You could swear he has eyes on the back of his head, because he always seems to know what you’re up to. In reality, he really just likes seeing how you look when you’re focused, or, alternatively, when you’re completely zoned out and off in space, thinking of something completely random and irrelevant to the current situation. He’ll come up and tap your forehead and smile at you when it looks like you’re back in the room again.

.

Solomon

- Solomon isn’t super affectionate and he’s not really an acts of kindness kind of guy. The most important thing for him is proximity; he doesn’t need you pressed up against his side all the time, but he likes having you in the same room as him as often as possible. You spend your evenings in his room in Purgatory Hall, laying or his bed or working at his desk, as he busies away with some new spell or writes down results of experiments with different potion ingredients. He doesn’t bother thinking too hard about it and just accepts it, but the reality is that it’s very calming and comforting for him. He’s also not someone who worries much about being judged or anything, so regularly having another person around doesn’t bother him.

- He asks for your input a lot. Simply put, he wants to hear you talk, and he’d love to know what makes you tick and how your brain works. “What do you think of this?” “How do you think Satan would react if...” and so on. So many ‘what if’ questions that it might make your head spin, because he’s always playing a game in his head of ‘what would happen if...’ despite rarely following through with it outside of experimenting with his magic and potions, and he wants to involve you in it too.

- Solomon doesn’t mind holding hands, and likes to play silly games when you are. Things like having thumb wars, or he’ll tangle his fingers up with yours and watch, amused, as you try and fail to pull your hand from his grip. Afterwards he’ll hold your hand with both of his and run his fingers and thumbs over it to soothe you. He also likes to just rest his hand on top of yours when you’re sitting beside each other.

- He’s going to try to be affectionate if it’s something you seem to want, and just out of curiosity. The one thing that sticks is that, if you’re cooking for him (because he’s not allowed to) he’ll wrap his arms around your waist and hug you from behind, his chin in your shoulder as he watches whatever you’re doing. He’ll blow air at the side of your face or at your fringe / bangs if you have them, so long as you’re not doing anything too dangerous and aren’t at risk of getting seriously injured.

- Bonus: If Solomon calls you and says “try this” or “drink some of this” don’t do it. Or at the very least, ask about any possible effects first. Moreso for food than for potions; he’ll find a way to reverse the potion, but the memory of eating his food will be stuck with you forever.

- Bonus bonus: Solomon loves giving you squishy hugs but he will squeeze you too tight and he will laugh even if he feels your spin click against his arms as you yelp. He won’t hurt you, but he will squeeze you hard enough that breathing will be difficult for a moment. You can tell from his smirk that he doesn’t feel guilty at all.

.

Simeon

- Simeon likes having you play with his hair. The way you twirl strands of hair between your fingers and try and fail to make a mess of his soft locks, which always return to their place no matter how hard you try to stop them. Bonus points for innocently wandering fingers that brush down the sides of his face, thumbs and fingers that ever so lightly brush along his cheekbones or around and under his jaw. He relaxes into your touch, eyes fluttering closed before he opens them just enough to smile at you, silent but oh so visibly delighted.

- If he knows it won’t make you sick and it’ll wipe off, he actually quite likes to draw on your hands and arms. He’ll let you do it in return, of course, but simple doodles and patterns, hearts and diamonds and sweet little reminders you’ll see later when you have to wash them off.

- Laying on your stomachs with your sides pressed together on a thin, soft blanket, knees bent and legs swinging in the air as you both read the same book. Simeon always finishes the pages first and so you take charge of just turning the pages, until he mumbles that he had lost focus - he’d been too busy watching your expressions, almost lulled to sleep by listening to your gentle breathing and wondering if you were enjoying the story and what your thoughts on it were, trying to piece it all together without disturbing you.

- You pass him at RAD or out in the Devildom and you don’t necessary stop, but he always waves, and god is it impossible to ignore how he lights up. His eyes gleam and he looks so, so happy just to see you and be reminded of your existence and if you’ve been unsure before about how truthful he’s being when he says he loves you and adores being around you, that look on his face will erase all your doubts. He’s beautiful and he’s glowing and it’s because he saw you!

.

Luke

- It’s an obvious one but baking together! Making cakes and decorating them. Letting stress out as you knead bread, experimenting with making different types of pastries. One time you make a batch of cupcakes and decorate them to look like dogs and he feels really sad when people eat them but he’s proud all the same, and he likes that he gets to feel proud around you.

- He acts like he’s indifferent, but he quite likes when you call him your brother. If you call him your little brother, he’ll protest because he’s hundreds of years older than you in reality, but he allows it after a while. So long as he can call you his big sibling in return, it’s worth it. If any of the brothers tease him over being the little brother, he remarks that at least you trust him and care for him so much as to call him your brother. None of them can really respond to that.

- Pat! Him! On! The! Head! Adjust his scarf! Fix his hat! He doesn’t understand why he enjoys it so much, but then Simeon points out that it probably makes him feel cared for, and that’s absolutely it. No teasing works or harsh gestures, just little acts that show you care about him or are thinking about him. It makes him feel so safe and happy.

- He always remembers things on your schedule for you, from little reminders that you might forget about to big important events. The only other person he does that for is Simeon, so it’s really a big deal for him - he shows enough interest to listen to you and remember all the little details you tell him, and then to reach out to you and make sure you remember or just to say he hopes you have a good time. If it’s something stressful, he might not message beforehand, but he’ll show up when it’s over with some treats and act like he just happened to be baking today and had some to spare.

Tag list: @katsukis-sad-angel

[shidouryusm]

HOME IN HIS ARMS

Pairing: Sakusa x reader

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1.4K

A/N: Hope you enjoy. There is this one Omi simp I know @teesumu . Babe, do read this and tell me how is it. Any constructive criticism is appreciated.

The white light of the lamp reflected on your pages that were strewn across your table. The carelessly kept notes, large reference books stacked on a stool beside. You hunched across the table in front of the laptop. The bright screen of the laptop illuminated against your face. The mini army of tabs that had several articles you were supposed to take citation and slight reference from. Behind the laptop was three empty cups of coffee that you had gulped down in order to prevent yourself from falling in to a slumber. Your fingers tapping away words on the keyboard only to erase them the next moment. You grabbed the fat book as you skimmed through the pages once more to revise the topic again. Frustration bubbling up inside you.

The clock at the edge of the table read, 3:00 a.m. There was dead silence except for the soft murmuring of leaves against the breeze and occasional yelps and barks of the stray dogs on your street. You could almost hear your own breathing at this silence. Quite comfortable it would be if it weren’t for your exam and the project that you procrastinated for so long tumbling down on you like a huge boulder. You wonder whether Kiyoomi took the vitamin pills before going to sleep. You had barely interacted with him today. This seemed to fuel your sadness and anger even more.

Your annoyance seemed to increase fourfold as you remember the times you procrastinated, thinking that all will be covered by cramming in the few days before exams. You had a fair memory and ability to bear pressure but this is beyond your limits. You run your fingers through your hair, head bent down low as you try to channel some irritation out before getting to work again. 

To your unawareness, Sakusa Kiyoomi was still wide awake. Looking at the ceiling above as he lies stiffly. Despite the physical isolation and the tough demeanor Sakusa shows out in public, the case is fairly opposite when it comes to bedtime with you. You gentle touches and babblings of days helps him to ease down. Nuzzling himself on the crook of your neck, he occasionally hums his answer whenever you rant about your day, falling asleep in the process. His favourite part would be whenever you’d doze off while talking… too tired from Uni and work. He would delicately cradle your head; place it on the soft pillow with one cushion underneath. Just how you like it. A hand always intertwined with yours. A soft smile plays across your lips, he smiles in return, wondering what good dream you must be seeing right now and whether he is a part of that. He kisses the bridge of your nose and lay down. Immersed in the ocean of happiness where you act as the anchor.

 But today that was not the case. You have been glued to the seat since evening, finishing the dinner haphazardly and carelessly, just gulping down the rice. You surely gave him his deserved goodnight kiss but that didn’t stop him from missing your warm presence by his side. But that is not the only thing that is depriving Kiyoomi from his sleep. No. 

He had noticed your anxious expression. The toilsome project as well as the exam had left you to be almost crumbled. Sakusa knew you were prone to procrastinating and this is the end result of all those all movie nights.

 He was confused whether to chide you or just sit by your side as you spend the night studying. He had stayed most of the evening by your side as you studied for the exam. Highlighting notes and making extra ones from reference books. He peeked at your books for a while; those weights of the books had intimidated him as well. A tinge of sadness rose within him for you and he just wanted to hold on to you. He gets up from the bed to check up on you. The hallway is dark and the only light that is spilling is the distant white neon light from the skyscraper few buildings beside theirs. He passes the hallway to turn left and reaches at the threshold of the study room.

 There you were, facing the window where the table is attached. Headphones plugged in and your head bent over the screen in front of you. Hair disheveled and pulled into a messy bun with a pencil running through the strands. The translucent white curtains rustled as the nightly breeze blew through your face. Your brows furrowed in utmost concentration and eyes popping out, little dark tinge under the eyes already visible as light fell from the lamp to your face. Your lips were pursed as you again look back at the book. You may think you look like an unhinged mad person right now but for Kiyoomi, you look beautiful even in the faint light of the dead night. He continues to look at you for a while. You still haven’t noticed his presence. Your headspace too clogged up to take up anything. You feel a blunt pain spreading throughout your back, reaching up to your neck and to your head. You heave out a long sigh as you outstretch your arms above your head. That is when you see him standing by the door still,

 “Hey, Omi…you haven’t slept yet?” you question him. Your eyes glinting with exasperation and fatigue. He crosses his arms as he enters the room.

 “You have been here for hours. Come on, babe” he says. 

“Omi…I…I still need to finish this project and do a light revision for the test. I really can’t slack off. Not now.” you sigh.

 He looks at you for a while before coming over to your side and press a quick kiss on your forehead. “You should go and sleep, Omi babe. You have practice tomorrow.” You say before turning your attention to the bright laptop screen. 

The pain in your neck and back was searing now. You rubbed your knuckles against your temples going down on your neck and rubbing it. Tossing your head back and heaving out yet another breathy sigh. Sakusa notices the weight you feel on your body and how uncomfortable it is to sit in this position for hours. He exits the room and heads to the kitchen rather than the bedroom. Like heck he would go back to sleep with you like this. 

15 minutes later, he returns to the study . You are now tilted sideways with your head leaning against your hand which is propped up on its elbow. He smiles softly, thinking how you look so adorable and beautiful effortlessly or rather in such a messy state. You look back at Kiyoomi.

 Before you can say anything, he places the peppermint tea and light crackers on your table.

 “Drink this, babe. You are almost jittery with so much coffee” he disapprovingly nods towards the three cups. You smile sheepishly at this. He scoffs as he tucks a small strand of loose hair behind your ear as you sip in the tea. 

You continue to make notes when you feel Kiyoomi patting your back to move forward a bit. He places a soft pillow behind your back and the next moment you feel his warm hands rubbing your shoulders and the back of your neck. 

“You really have to quit your horrible habit of procrastination and cramming. See, how much this affects you.” Kiyoomi quietly says as he continues to massage your sore spot. You close your eyes at this relief. Finding solace in his presence and his ever-giving care. 

“Finish this tea and come to bed with me” He prompts. You try to give your rebuttal. “Omi, I need to finish this project. I told you…also I need to revise again…”

 “Y/N, you can. I will wake you up again after three hours when I am going for a run. But now you need to come with me now. You are overworking yourself again” he pats your head gently and you comply. 

Well this is the effect Sakusa Kiyoomi has on you. 

“I shall sit here and wait for you till you finish this, okay?” he says. You nod as you drink the refreshing tea he made. Feeling much better and light weighted.

 He massages your scalp and picks out the ridiculously stuck pencil while you continue making the last of the notes for the time being and shut your laptop.

 “That’s my good girl” he says with a smile. You feel yourself going red as you smack him on the arm and on the…

 “Omi, NO-- Sakusa tackles you in his arms as he heads to the bedroom. He chuckles at your failed attempt of slapping his ass.

 “Not so fast, prettyface.” You huff as you enter the bedroom and to the comfort of your bed. 

Lying down under the comfortable covers, you scoot towards him as he captures you in his grasp and securely holds you while you drift off to sleep. “You know Omi, I probably won’t be able to sleep so let’s talk.” 

“Brat, you need to wake up after 3 hours and so do I. So let us sleep. That is the best idea.” He flicks your forehead while saying this and cradles it like before, trying to ease your brooding tension. 

You look up to Kiyoomi as you guys lock eyes. His eyes reflecting care and worry for you. Your immense gratitude and infinite love. Words might not be exchanged as frequently by Sakusa but the actions he does are more than enough that how much important your are to him to prove to the whole universe. Its a myriad of positive emotions that reflects against both of you. One that effortlessly releases hoards of dopamine in your system.

“Sleeep!” Sakusa says wide eyed as you laugh and close your eyes

You sigh in relief as you feel the home in his arms. The home you are forever grateful for.

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