#i fucking hate bubble layouts

[nevernonline]

✽ maybe this means something? ✽ | csc.

CHAPTER 00 - Introduction.

Choi Seungcheol used to be the bane of your existence, but through a year of seasonal rotations, something felt different. It has to be overwhelming realizing you could fall for the person you always thought you hated.

𐦍 paring: seungcheol x reader. (svt members mentioned)

𐦍 genre: frenemies (sort of), romance, a little angst, fluff.

𐦍 content: non-idol characters, food/drink, cursing, slightly- suggestive, pet names, fem! reader. bff! hao.

𐦍 word count: 1.4k

♥ notes: every time I listen to Means something by Lizzy McAlpine it makes me think of cheol so I wanted to write a little something with it as inspo, but pls ignore any typos or weird phrasing I'm super rusty when it comes to writing long fics. pls enjoy and give feedback. xo.

Intro - Fall - Winter - Spring - Summer

Intro:

Walking down a narrow alleyway trying to find the brown arched doorway in the photo from your friend's text, you suddenly felt a chill running up and down your back, was someone following behind you? If they were, was it smart for you to turn around and look or keep your head held high and continue to your front? 

Against your better judgment you continued down the moonlit coated pathway. Suddenly a firm grasp came up to your shoulder as you screamed only to be met with the smirking face and raven colored hair of your worst nightmare, no, not a murderer but worse, Choi Seungcheol. 

For all you made out of his features in the small amount of light you did have, that smirk plastered on his face could only be changed by your hand coming in contact harshly with his cheek. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” you spat in his direction, his hand still resting on the jacket that covered your bare shoulders underneath.  

Seungcheol, now stone cold as you’ve known him to be,, just shook his head and removed his hand only now to be pointing two doors down from where you had walked. “You missed the entrance.” 

You just squinted back in his direction and without a word pushed passed his broad shoulders to the door you had missed. When you finally reached the warmth of bodies grazing passed you in both directions the sound of the music made the fast paced beating of your chest seem calm. 

“Minghao!” you yelled finally spotting the reason you’re not in bed  watching your favorite movie. 

“I didn’t think you’d make it!” he smiled hugging you so tight your ribs felt like they could crack. 

It was a celebration for him after all, you’ve known him forever so you could miss a big moment like this. He was throwing a party for all of his closest friends to cheer the opening of his art gallery, most of them being featured artists he discovered somewhat like what you thought you’d be doing, but maybe in another life. 

Your right arm still draped around his waist as your left outstretched to him grabbing the one thing you really needed, alcohol. Taking a sip and letting it run down the back of your throat felt like a reward. 

“You know I could never turn down a chance to celebrate you, this is really amazing, Hao. I can –” a familiar voice interrupted yours offering another congrats to the friend on your side, of course it was his. 

Seungcheol looked at the closeness of you and Minghao and felt a rush to his cheeks, “Hi, sorry to interrupt you both, but I figured if I didn’t stop her now I could never get a word in.” 

Your mutual friend just laughed at the two of you. He's always been in the middle of the bubbling tension, “Cheol, thank you. Really you’re like 75% of this. You designed the entire layout; it wouldn't have been the same without you.” 

Hao’s hand left its comfortable position around you to now be wrapped around the shoulders you rudely brushed passed earlier. 

“Wait, you designed this?” your now hands gesturing to the architecture of Minghao’s gallery interior. 

Seungcheol looked confused as to why you were even entertaining a conversation between the two of you. He chose to let it go due to the night being special,, “Uhm, yep. I took over for my dad, he owns a lot of the historic buildings in this neighborhood so whoever owns the retail space has to come through our architecture firm for consultation.” 

Your eyes opened wide, almost not believing the words coming out of his mouth, pure shock was really all you had in you. “Oh, cool.” Was that all you could say? Cool? 

“I guess, it’s not really what I wanted to do forever, but designing for Hao was something I couldn’t say no to and my dad never would’ve let me if I didn’t stay to take over for him, but yeah it's cool.” His smile seemed forced now and for some reason you felt the need to get to the bottom of that. 

Something about him changed from the time you saw him teasing you outside, something like the air during this season. On the outside it was cold, but the inside was warm and comfortable. You’d have to find shelter first to find the beauty of the outside.

A groan from Hao took your now staring eyes off of the cherry lipped boy to focus back onto him. “I’m sorry I have to go say hello to some people, but if you guys want to sit and wait for me I’ll be back in like ten minutes tops, grab a drink and go into the lounge.” His eyes never left yours searching for the fear of being alone with someone you loathed, but he couldn’t find it so he felt safe to leave you. 

As you waited with him in line you pretended to look around the room more, but really you just wanted to size him up. He had an outfit on that brought out his now masculine shape, which as a departure from the slim boy you met years before. His eyes seemed softer, like he had calmed down from the teasing and prodding. You couldn't put your finger on it, but maybe he was always this beautiful but you were too blinded by the rage inside your gut to notice.

“Hi guys, what can I get for you?” The overly perky bartender spoke loudly knocking you out of your trance.

“Tequila Soda.” Seungcheol and you spoke in unison. 

A small smile curved onto your normally downturned mouth, “Good choice.” 

“Mmm, you too, thought you had no taste?” He teased and grabbed the two drinks gesturing over to the sherpa lined loveseat near the fireplace. 

“I’m surprised you ever thought anything about me other than I was a bitch.” You scoffed now placing your jacket over your stocking covered legs. 

He just laughed and placed the two drinks down in front of him, “Well, to be honest I think this is the most I’ve ever spoken to you without one of us getting upset.” 

“Yeah, I would say sorry for that, but I’m too sober to have that conversation with you.” You lifted the rim of your glass to your lips taking a sip. “Can I ask you something actually?” 

Seungcheol just nodded in your direction while adjusting his frame towards you further, “Sure, go ahead.” 

“Did it at least hurt when I slapped you earlier? Cause if it didn’t I caused my hand pain for no reason.” 

“Yeah, it really did.” He just smiled. 

┄┄ ︰ ┄୨୧┄ ︰ ┄┄┄┄ ︰ ┄୨୧┄ ︰ ┄┄┄┄ ︰ ┄୨୧┄ ︰ ┄┄

Leaving the party after your first civil conversation with the same guy you hated since you met him five years ago had you on a weird high, but it was probably just the tequila right? 

You would have never imagined from that first day in college when Minghao introduced you to a friend of his that you’d ever get along with him. You always just viewed him as Choi Seungcheol, enemy number one. A womanizer, a rich brat who got everything in his life handed to him, someone that you’d never get along with and not because you didn’t try. 

Seungcheol teased you, he made you feel small. Told you basically for years that Minghao only had been keeping you around because you were his charity case, but not in so many words.

You had felt a deep loathing for him forever, so why is it changing? 

Passing down as leaves  crunched beneath your feet you notice something, a street sign, a mundane object that’s never stuck out to you before it read ‘Coups Avenue.’ 

His nickname was on a sign just a few blocks down from your apartment, a street you’ve probably seen many times and never paid any attention to, so why was it special now? 

Your pace picked up as the wind blew colder, you had to get to the bottom of it.

Finally reaching the end of your elevator ride into your apartment, your laptop was out before you could even change out of your clothes or wash off your makeup you started researching the small hub that was your neighborhood. 

“Coups Avenue, what could that even mean?” your head couldn’t wrap around the fact it was the first time you noticed it. 

“ Coups Avenue is a small lux dead end street, featuring boutique liquor stores, luxury apartment complexes, and coveted neighborhood restaurants, most famously Choi Bistro founded in 1995 after the birth of the Choi family's son.” You read aloud to your dog as she's cuddled to your side on the couch. 

“So… I saw his name on a street sign, literally named for him after he was born.” You rolled your eyes and laid your head back to stare at the ceiling. "

It had to mean something, right?

[wolfertinger]

(keep anon if it’s not already on, sorry if i double posted as my device is acting strangely)

“fuck you and your gf for trying to skinwalk as me yapyapyap fuck you for stalking me sawyer blablabla” (referring to that cohost post salem made as well as the other bluesky ones) i’m not going to get into the cultural appropriation there as other anons have pointed out a previous ask using the same word.

not trying to shame sources but i do think it’s ironic that he accuses sawyer of being a creepy stalker and to ‘get their own identity’ or whatever but dude… that’s literally you. talk about projection when you’re hinting at (you are, everyone knows this) being an introject alter of deadbunny/ramiel/harley/whatever other names she goes by… the necrophile bunny artist. “guys i’m my own person i hate my source-“ copies everything down to ramiel’s aesthetic, weird alter self shipping art, speaking mannerisms (the dewlap tweet as someone else had pointed out, would love more comparisons if there are any), etc. even the fursona is kinda similar (same with heather/bunny) with both of them being alternative/‘kinky’* in the same way that ramiel’s fursona/characters are.

*we all know salem likes to pretend being some badass kinky queer with tons of experience under his belt when in reality the only thing that would touch him is silicone.

not to mention you publicly admitted to ‘gangstalking random artists on twitter’ when somebody asked you for tips on how you draw/how you developed your style. and let’s not go over the thousands of times people have mistook you for a trans woman on twitter in your puppychan days (which you hilariously blacked out your account layout and spammed fake suicide threats, i hope nobody ever lets you live this down because you should be ashamed of yourself amongst the many other ways you’ve harmed people), fled to different identities whenever you got called out (mickey/pancakewags, revvy/kungfurevvy/andi/adonis/imani/‘whatever her name is!’ lmao), changing your name to whatever suited your mood at the time (again mickey and revvy, puppy/pup, your deadname, punnya, unya, and now salem. (i do not remember what other names he has gone by, if other anons or OP would like to add on.)

you’re crying the loudest over sawyer copying you, when they are just existing in their own bubble. meanwhile we have your pathetic ass landlocked to only tumblr and bluesky because nobody likes you (so glad i got to see you run off of twitter for a whopping third time, in real time. thank you for that it was really entertaining. keep it up you piece of shit.) your art styles, names, alters, and aesthetics change more than a cheap moodring. it’s funny how quick you are to discard them and berate them privately and publicly when they had helped you get away with lying about puppychan, even lying about going to college which is really odd to me. your art style changes either whoever you’re around or ‘gangstalking’ (in your own poor choice of wording) from a distance because once again, nobody likes you. and for good reason. your brain literally can not comprehend it because you peaked on twitter and you will never achieve that popularity again, all you have is infamy. you can pretend to own it, but it’s so obvious nearly everything you post about is a massive cope, or about something that’s clearly bothering you. everybody can see it because they’ve actually socialized with real life people, and you think you’re so slick with being passive aggressive and seemingly nonchalant when everyone in a real life scenario would avoid you off of vibes alone.

you truly have no solid identity and it’s so clear to me now seeing how fast you rebranded as puppychan, to pancakewags, back to puppychan, then kungfurevvy, then wolfertinger.

“nobody can do it like me! =uwu=“ yeah and there’s a reason for that you mentally deranged piece of shit, you draw the same things over and over. you never experiment. you never practice different mediums. you’re the wet blanket of the furry world. (kink too, apparently.) i sure hope to god nobody else is doing it like you, because i’d get bored — and annoyed as fuck, fast. i’m glad. thanks for taking one for the team and being the piece of shit of 2024 - 2025. i hope to god you don’t have a career past that point.

you know, i think all of this is just salem and wis (mostly salem, actually unless if you think otherwise, OP.) projecting their internal struggles and gripes onto sawyer. because while sawyer is thriving and visiting family and friends with a support system on their side, this fucking dork is sitting in a dark room all day on his phone drawing selfcest of him/his own alters (because he’s lonely and i hope it stays that way) and if it’s not that it’s either screaming and harassing a disabled rape survivor (or genocide survivor let’s not let him forget this either) or rehashing old tumblr drama from 2020.

i honestly hope he suffers and continues to fail for acting so horribly in his past and current and not apologizing or attempting to atone for it in any way, especially letting his weirdo e-girlfriend tweak about on bluesky for everybody to see. good job i can tell you guys really love each other for continuously letting yourselves not only take your anger out on a victim but also just, letting yourselves get worked up over and over and showcasing it on social media. and not talking it out with each other or journaling about it. and no, that’s not concern-trolling because i genuinely don’t give a fuck whether you two live or die, it’s just applying common sense with a basic therapy skill.

wis i can understand you crashing out so hard because you spent so much time with this person behind closed doors talking and getting to know each other, even going so far as to constantly act as this person’s attack dog only for the realization to finally start seeping through that he will never, NEVER see you. you are truly a dumbass if you think he’s going to fly his lazy ass all the way from georgia to poland or sweden or whatever the fuck. he doesn’t go outside. he spends all day on his fucking phone either drawing the same things or yapping about the coldest takes ever. ever notice how he can’t follow through with even the most simple promises? such as making his ocs black-coded only to go right back to making them look like random white girls that frequent hot topic (i get that coding characters is kinda hard but it honestly feels like night and day with the contrast and rate at which he changes characters/alters.) and telling his audience over and over that he’s going to take a break, not even lasting a full sleep cycle. that’s only his current dishonesty, let’s not even go back to his puppychan days with this. for salem, not posting on social media is like trying to roll a boulder up a hill. pray tell what do you think the comparison of him making an effort to fill out boring paperwork, get out the house, and fly thousands of miles away out of the states would be? maybe trying to disassemble and then reassemble an entire car with no prior knowledge. or maybe trying to stay off of the internet for more than 8 hours, lol. point is, you’re fucking dumb and everybody but you can see it. or maybe you’re just in denial, because once again you spent so much time on this loser only to silently realize that maybe everyone is actually right about poor misguided 19-year-old minor puppychan.

honestly for salem, i don’t give a shit if he reads this but from what i can see he picks and chooses what he wants to twist to his audience, disgusting but not surprised considering he also manipulated his audience as puppychan) but if he does i just wanna say your art is really fucking bad and stiff and trying to add more realistic anatomy to your art doesn’t make it better or more eye-catching and certainly not by overusing filters and the smudge tool. your art was better on furaffinity because nobody knew who you were, didn’t give a shit about you and you knew this, but oh- guys i’m actually puppychan… thank god i can finally come out about this so i can stop putting effort into art and revert into the same curvy standing 3/4 curvy furry curvy angle curvy (did i mention curvy) slop with the same two characters! yay! but wait… guys… i’m not actually puppychan i’m kittysan and you can tell i’m fronting based on the way i abuse the same ibispaint noise filter to cover up my ba- i mean amazing art! sigh… i only got 4,000 notes on this one… that means it sucks :c (i hope nobody realizes i’m puppychan)

you take your anger out on sawyer because you’re angry that all of this is all that you’ll ever be. you take your anger out on someone with more health issues than you who had just survived being raped in an impaired mental state because you’ll never take a step out of the house, you’ll never go to college, you’ll never get a job, you’ll never make friends, you will never talk to anyone outside of your immediate family, and you will never see wis. you will never accomplish anything because you’re perfectly satisfied with sitting in the comfort of your own home drawing the same ‘sexy’ furry pinups with the same 5 poses in rotation. who all look the same and have no distinct fashion. you strangely parrot sawyer’s traits and trauma whether it be co-opting them directly or pasting them onto your ocs. you harass sawyer because you wish you had their trauma, and it pisses you off because you can’t self-victimize about it all over social media.

knowing the full context of the puppychan saga to current day, i honestly think you’re a piece of shit that deserves to fail over and over, but if i didn’t know any better and just took a quick look at your tumblr (or maybe even if i was a follower that just got fed up with your shit) i would assume you were a very sexually repressed and sexually frustrated person with severe anger issues and no filter. i can deduct nothing else about you, because you draw and post about the same exact things like a broken record player. your old art as puppychan (before the pancake dumptruck era) was excellent, but your art on furaffinity as wolftingz was even better. disappointed but not surprised to see you regress artistically, yet again. i wonder if your entire system suffers from that type of thing, because this is twice that this has happened. nobody cares if you make a post saying that you like your current art better, i know a lot of people reading this or even people who have vague general knowledge of you would hold the same opinion, this clearly bothers you and i nor anyone else with a brain gives a shit. you’re airing sawyer’s accounts for anyone to see when you know you have a high amount of followers. you’re harassing and stalking a rape victim but oh, my aching heart- somebody doesn’t like my repetitive, boring ass art… the horror! 

do keep vaguely pointing people to this blog in your awkward ways, the streisand effect and whatnot.

.

[pseudophan]

tumblr desktop users do ANY of you like the new layout since they moved a bunch of the buttons to the left or am i the only one... cause everyone's been hating on it and i'm just here like actually i think not having to scroll way the fuck down to access something is one of their better new features

however i DO miss having the inbox at the top i miss the little speech bubble saying i've got a new ask that was cute

[your-local-uwu-artist]

its fitting its kirby day cause today my animation on youtube reached 1k views <3 i really dont have the words to describe how thankful i am~

anyhow some sketches i got and bits from my curretn wip video essay (im more then halfway through my initial draft!!!) the fic "being a knight is easy" by @/azzie_tangerine under the cut

anyway i wanna talk more about my process on my curretn wip, bassically to make iteasier on me i diecided to just do a re-read taking notes of litterally whatever comes to mind along the way, some of it is complete unrelated nonsense, some of it is just noting a specefic thing i liked, some are vague start ups for something to think more into, and others are more fledged out paragarpahs of anaylsysis, bassically i was just typing in the notes app but now im switching to google docs cause it keeps lagging sdafnksd anyway once i finihs the main first draft then ill start working on organizing everything and cutting out the side rambles, after its more organized i can work on more actual anaylsisi writing, decideding when an excerpt or quote is needed or not and actually making it a script, im not sure how many drafts ill have

anyway, heres the snippets ive found that are more comprehensive

"we've reveiewed hw the battles are written this one is very different as kriby is feeling confident now but there is a snippet of text in it i want to bring to attention

"Fluff said it was okay to be forgetful, it was a part of him. And sometimes, accepting something won’t work is better than trying to force it… right?"

i would like to note the word acceptance and the phrase "it was a part of him" sense are other protag has a part of him he needs to accept, its small and aubtle but it really neat how are 2 povs segments are so intertwined" (note on battle scene in chapter 15)

"okay also this part is very much a me thing but i really want to point it out because it would be a fun scene to adapt to a visual medium, probably animation rather than comic but i love a challenge but there's a scene or two where metaknight talks about knight stuff to kirby while they like, go through different stances, the point is it would be super fucking fun to adapt to animation, if i do ever adapt this fic as a comic or something than i do thing the dialogue of this scene would probably be one with more changes sense in a written medium this had more writing to like, start the scene where as in a visual format it would be more seamless for the act to have less words to start it and expand and shorten some parts of meta's dialogue to match with the comic flow, as word bubbles are very much a part of comic art" ( i didnt note what chapter it was form god damn im gonna have a lot of editing to do later)

"i think one thing this whole fic does really well BUT ESSPECIALLY helps scenes that need more tension in them is the variety in length of paragraphs, okay i really hate when people complain about fanfics without paragraph gaps cause like, i get it the writer is just tryin to get their ideas down and share them and honestly fuck it i know im in the minority here but ive always found that often these fanfics arent at all bad because i can feel that the author cares aout it and had an idea and all that, BUT.... i do think that paragraph gaps are a storytelling tool on their own. its like an extremely watered down version of panel layouts, emphasis on extremely watered down because panel layouts are a LOT like a LOT a LOT, so much more than some people realize but it has a similar effect in the sense that it impacts the sense of the passage of the time and it creates a sense of rhythm but most of all it can create emotion and communicate through the empty space" (on the first battle scene i think)

[armydreamerr]

ranking mario odyssey kingdoms

17. dark side. BOOOOO tomato tomato. i don’t like the broodals fights and i certainly don’t like playing them again in moon gravity. also i don’t like the hint art moons. you have to go to OTHER KINGDOMS to get them! pain in my ass

16. cloud kingdom. i mean its allright. the main thing i like here is that the moons are easy to get. the design is boring though.

15. mushroom kingdom. i like the boss battle rematches and how easy it is to get the purple coins. and super mario 64 references. i don’t like playing as yoshi. his controls SUCK

14. ruined kingdom. again it has like 4 moons all of which are easy to get. i actually do really like the design of this one though. should’ve been a full size kingdom

13. cap kingdom. i mean it’s allright. very easy to get every collectible which i like. the scenery is ok.

12 lost kingdom. it’s ok. it’s fine. the moons are fun to get and stuff. the scenery sucks though. i hate the colour palette. why bro why. purple and brown has gotta be the worst colour combo ever

11. bowser’s kingdom. i don’t even enjoy this kingdom bro i don’t like the main capture i don’t like the layout i don’t like anything. i also don’t like how when you’re at this stage in the game they won’t let you leave the kingdom and come back later. that used to make me cry in frustration as a kid

10. darker side. not that much fun as a kingdom… but i have a toxic homoerotic rivalry with it and despite beating odyssey like 3 times, i have actually never beaten the darker side. i also like how the moon is called “long journey’s end.” i will cry

9. moon kingdom. i spent SO much time playing this one in my current play through. i literally don’t even think i completed it yet i think i still need a few purple coins. it’s kind of flipping boring? it’s so fun in the story though. like the whole wedding arc is great

8. snow kingdom. i LOVE shiveria and j love the challenges you have to complete before racing. i hate the stupid race. and the fact that there are like FIVE MOONS centred around that stupid race?? fuck off fuck off fuck off

7. cascade kingdom. breathtaking scenery lowkey. honestly i don’t know why but this kingdom defines odyssey to me like this is what i think of when i think of mario odyssey. the waterfall with the triceratops fossil is just. chefs kiss. wish this kingdom was bigger. also i don’t think the moons are very fun to get.

6. sand kingdom. so big but SUCH a nothing burger. so much open space. it’s not that fun to just roll mario around the desert. it’s this high in the list because a ton of moons are really fun to get and i looove the story arc with the binding band.

5. lake kingdom. SO GORGEOUS!!!! seriously this shit is great. i also actually like that it’s small because it’s like a little palette cleanser between sand and wooded. i always choose lake first when i play. also. the lochladies are totally a lesbian society right like right

4. metro kingdom. i actually find this one kinda underwhelming considering its size and the amount of moons available but its high up on the list because the story arc is SO FUCKING GOOD. let mario go to another festival. and bring back mayor pauline awooooga

3. luncheon kingdom. i love the pink magma the fork guys the lava bubble the fuckass pot of soup the slab of meat i love everything in this kingdom. it’s all so stupid but sooo wonderful. actually every moon in this kingdom is fun to get

2. seaside kingdom. there is so much to explore it feels never ending. i will genuinely be sad when i get all the moons and purple coins in this kingdom. i’ve beaten odyssey multiple times and i still find stuff i had no idea existed in this kingdom. i also fucking love water levels

1. wooded kingdom. what can i really say. first of all the sheer size of this kingdom makes me feel like im constantly discovering new stuff. also i love the steampunk environment the blending of machinery with vegetation and freshwater aughhf i wanna live here

[telltalebatman]

📱, ☠, 🎥?

OUGH did u kno this new tumblr layout doesn't show u a new message bubble : (

📱 Show your phone lock screen and/or home screen

lycherally the least shocking thing ever:

☠ Something that angers you

when people woobify the version of my man penguin from TAS and/or the comics to be a goofball, rather than a bloodthirsty maniac and a criminal mastermind!!!!!! it's all bc of his physique, and it pisses me off, bc his entire thing is that he hates being underestimated. he hates it to the point of killing people who do that. and i, for one, thing that's very cool of him to do <3

🎥 Fave film

honestly intersect (dir. gus holwerda) had kind of became a comfort movie to me at this point. yes, i did initially only watch it out of my endless love for jason the man, and yes it is flawed and imperfect, but at the same time it was clearly made with lots of love and passion, and it shows. even the kid actors are great - because they're so eager, even when the writing leaves a lot to be desired. also i grew to be a little bit obsessed with the character abe ruthless (dunno if it's his real name, don't care, it's badass, and abe is a cool guy and my mutual on insta lol) plays, which has some really fun tragic time loop thing going on. so yeah i suppose this is my current fave.

that is, until the next project by gus comes out, which apparently is going to be an eldritch horror western story, and i am so fucking PUMPED for it. when it comes out, i'm going to devour it frame by frame.

[trashbaget]

i’ve just opened google drive, and good god, bestie, i hate what you’ve done with the place

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

♡  bakugou headcanons that feel like a warm hug ♡

➳wc ;; 1.2k (oh my god. what is wrong w me.) 

➳ a/n ;; or my bakugou brain-rot that never goes away. thanks for being my comfort character, you fucking gremlin. forgive the silly title. 

♡ always makes little adjustments to the environment for you. he’s observant to a fault so if there’s something even a little off and it happens to bother you, he’s trying to work around it. 

♡ good at playing guitar but not good at reading music. he can throw something together if you give him a chance but he’s not good at trying to recreate someone elses memory. he’s not like.. musically gifted either but he likes how guitar sounds 

♡ thinks about getting a lot of piercings in his ear because he thinks they’d look cool but is kind of too nervous? the idea of a needle going through his skin is a ick. when you start dating, he drags you to his appointments lol - won’t admit it but he thinks he looks so hot when he gets them. takes a bunch of selfies <3 

♡ needs to be moving constantly. can’t sit completely still to save his life. when he listens to music, he moves his head. sometimes he just runs his thumb over his fingers. 

♡ really, really bad at talking. not in the sense he can’t communicate (that too) but he just likes listening in conversation. rarely adds his own thing. but when he does - always accidentally says something super meaningful 

♡ enjoys subtle physical touch because it is literally intimate he melts inside. a hand on his forearm or shoulder. your legs over his lap. small things that show how comfortable you are. 

♡ likes being held cause he’s a big ass baby lmfao 

♡ wont admit it but enjoy when you choose pretty or colorful bandages for his cuts he won’t himself but it’s like keeping you in his pocket wherever he goes.  

♡ really needs you to find him attractive dslksjk it’s not that he ever thinks he’s particularly ugly. but he didn’t really assign importance to his appearance at any point in his life, yet now he puts in a scary amount of effort. readjusts his hair so much more, makes sure his clothes fit good. fixes his fuckin’ face lol 

♡ likes chewing gum a lot and always has a pack on him. really proud of how big he can blow bubbles and will be a little sad if you’re unimpressed. 

♡ is overly sentimental about things you’ve made him - especially if it’s something super dumb. you drew him a silly little sketch of him in a frog hat? it’s in his wallet behind his id. freaks out when he thinks he’s lost his wallet 

♡ LOVES phone calls. yes he still hates talking. but the way his face looks when he listens to your voice. eyes half-lidded, shamelessly smiling - it’s so tender and so lovesick. 

♡ terrible first grader hand-writing. he tries to write them for you in the beginning of your relationship (to be romantic or some shit) but they’re so incomprehensible pls. if he focuses on it - it can be legible but most of the time ... yea no. 

♡ doesn’t favor tea or coffee but prefers tea if he has to drink one. 

♡ crazy good at eyeballing measurement. even in baking. once made a perfectly good bread without weighing anything and doesn’t get why that’s so wild. 

♡ has the phone on his text set to be bigger even though his eyes are fine. 

♡ lets you do the layout thing on his iphone and decorate as you please. says he doesn’t care but when he sees you made it hero themed/fit with his aesthetic - he got so red it was so cute. 

♡ hates shopping in store. will still always go with you because the one time you went alone a store clerk hit on you.  

♡ so practical. he started couponing when he was in his early twenties like an old man. checks the news and weather the night before, every night. never misses doctors appointments. 

♡ shit at any form of visual art. drawing, painting etc - cannot do it to save his life. but he tries. his hands shake when he tries to draw hearts for you 

♡ blows the eyelashes off your cheek super gently whenever he notices. he’ll like.. take your face in his hands and blow so softly like he’s gonna hurt you. 

♡ used to agree to make pinky promises with you as a joke. now though? automatically holds his pink out for you to take it. straight up pouts if you don’t. 

♡ you two have a song and when it comes on, he’ll sing it back to you. any other time? any other song? he wont. but he always sings your song even without realizing, just mouths it. 

♡ enjoys when you put your hands under his shirt and just leave them there and hug him like that. skin to skin contact is elite but only from you. 

♡ hamsters adore this man. they just do. 

♡ draws frowny faces on your eggs with hot-sauce 

♡ soul leaves his body when you play with his hair and scratch his scalp. the tension in his neck literally disappears and he just sighs that shit relaxes him like crazy 

♡ the first time he says i love you, you’re tying his tie for his first hero event. you’re telling him to that the color looks good on him and you’re smiling. it honestly it just slips. he went on to win an award that night. 

♡ his favorite memory of the two of you was when you were trying to leave the grocery store one afternoon. it was raining heavy as shit. you pulled him in under your clear umbrella and just stood there. he doesn’t know why but that means a lot to him. 

♡ cares a lot about his dads approval on his work specifically. him and his dad have a really specifc bond and he actually admires him quite a bit. 

♡ nothing makes him cry like “im proud of you”. especially when it’s for something small. it’s just something he didn’t hear enough in a sincere way. 

♡ likes fruit flavored sweets over chocolate (generally needs something to do w his mouth cause it helps him think. bad oral fixation) so he keeps little candies on him 

♡ shit at video games. terrible at them with the exception of mario kart? for some reason. 

♡ always loses his keys 

♡ stutters every!single!time! he tries to compliment you. it’s been YEARS. 

♡ takes a melatonin gummy before bed and always drinks a glass of water 

♡ buys you flowers and keeps them too. like does the upkeep on it and replaces them if the wilt. suggests pressing them to keep them for longer. 

♡ lowkey cries really easily. he just gets overwhelmed w his feelings some times and it makes him cry even if he doesn’t want too. you and the bakusquad are sworn to secrecy over it though 

♡ wears his ring around his neck on a chain bc it’s easier to show off. 

♡ naturally good at doing hair! 

♡ likes sneakers but wears dr. scholl's because he walks a lot and is on his feet for most of the day w his job. just being careful. 

♡ loves u a lot <3 

[buck-yyyy]

words can’t describe how much i hate the new tumblr layout

I WANNA SEE THE LITTLE NOTES BUBBLES FUCK U

[nanaminokanojo]

"Petty" | Oikawa Toru X You

CHAPTER COUNT: 1/1 CHARACTERS: Oikawa Toru X You | Haikyuu Characters (mentions) WORD COUNT: 3,300+ GENRE: fluff | romance | aged-up characters | university au | oneshot TRIGGER WARNING: profanity | strong/mature language | alcohol use SPOILERS: n/a

collection masterlist

photo/fanart credits to @/oikawalovesyouu on Twitter

"He's self-centered but he's insecure so naturally, he's petty."

Oikawa couldn't shake that comment off his head as he slammed yet another ball into the opposing court, aggressively wiping on the sweat on his forehead. The university gym was already deserted with all his teammates gone yet he was still doing jump serves as if he wasn't already so good at it. He just needed an outlet.

In his head, he was already thinking of counter arguments to what he heard being said about him. It was one sentence. One! And yet he was working up all his brain cells to think of a lengthy rebuttal to every single word in that single statement.

First of all, he wasn't self-centered. He doesn't just think about himself, or so he likes to think. He was sensitive enough to read the room most of the time and he can actually bring the best out of his teammates to the highest degree. An insensitive, selfish prick wouldn't be able to do that without proper observation and lack of awareness for others.

Secondly, he didn't think he was insecure. He didn't have to lift a finger to get the attention he wanted, and it was human to feel envy for those who are better than him because there will always be someone better. It’s just an inevitability he has to deal with.

And lastly, he wasn't petty. He's always been reactive, he knew that, but that was just reaction if not retaliation to those who want to belittle him. That's what he thinks anyway.

But why you had to say those things about him as if you were a female version of Iwaizumi – his best friend who seemed to get off of being too cruelly honest and straightforward about what he thought of Oikawa – was something he didn't understand.

Of course, he was aware of your blatant frankness. He loved that about you. You were just very insistent on your individuality and you had very strong opinions which you stood by without regard to anything. Most of the time anyway. He actually got a kick out of people's reactions when you say something without filtering your words especially when you were children, but like they say, it's never funny when one becomes the receiving end of anything negative.

The larger dilemma was that you were the only girl he sincerely liked, so much so that he was willing to lay down his pride just to have you and call you his. Solely and irrevocably his. But if you thought of him that way, then maybe you actually hated him. It bothered him to no end.

"What the hell did I tell you about over-exertion?" Oikawa heard that familiar deep voice from the direction of the entrance, and before he knew it, the ball crate was being wheeled away from him. "Enough. It's off season."

"Just letting off some steam," Oikawa stated, smiling Iwaizumi's way despite himself.

"You can do that at Kuroo's party," the other male said with finality. "Be out in fifteen." His last words were laced with a threat, and Oikawa didn't have a choice but to do as he was told. The former was right. If it's just to vent out, he could definitely do that at the party.

He couldn't be more wrong in his life.

The moment he entered the premises of Kuroo's house, the first thing he saw was you. You came in just after he did, but you bumped against him without even apologizing as you walked ahead, waving at someone else. You saw him there, but you walked off anyway as if you didn't.

"What the actual fuck?" he couldn't help but blurt out when he saw just who you were talking to.

You've always been agreeable to him as his childhood friend, but you were ignoring him on top of saying bad things about him to your friends. And now, you were talking to Ushijima Wakatoshi whom you knew he disliked with a passion.

The male simply got on his nerves for the fact that he was better at him in the sport they both played. Oikawa also hated how much the guy hounded him to join their team back in high school, talking about how he would be better off. Like how is it better to be in the same team as Ushijima was when he would just outshine him?

His mind started to run amok with questions. What could you possibly want from Ushijima? Better yet, what did he want from you? Since when were you even close to him? Oikawa almost wanted to throw up seeing how you were being buddy-buddy with the cold fish of a guy, actually managing to melt his severe expressions into a soft smile. Were you going out with him now? He couldn't take it.

Without thinking, he grabbed the shoulder of the person who was holding a tray of drinks, taking two shot glasses in his hand, and telling the person to stay where he was standing. He was able to down six shots while standing there, but before he could drink more, Iwaizumi came into view.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded gruffly, telling the poor guy with the drinks to scram.

"Not now, Iwa," he snapped, walking towards the direction of the stairs, rudely telling everyone to get out of his way.

He stayed there for almost an hour, trying to calm his nerves but ending up going feral over this couple who were making out as they pushed the door to Kuroo's room where he was lying down on the bed. To say that he killed their mood was an understatement as he harshly told them to fuck off. Nobody dared cross him being the famous star athlete that he was at the university you both attended. It was, however, useless if he finds himself losing even outside of court to Ushijima who was his equivalent in the neighboring school when it comes to volleyball. It left him with a bitter taste at the recesses of his mouth.

When he finally emerged from the room, deciding to get more drinks, he was still in a foul mood, glaring at anyone who would get in his way towards the kitchen. But his plan was all but forgotten when he saw you standing by the archway that led to the kitchen, leaning there as you nursed a plastic cup against your chest.

For the first time that night, he was actually seeing how beautiful you were, dressed in a crop top and tight-fitting jeans which were tattered in most places. As per usual, you were stuck in your own bubble, bobbing your head to the music as if you weren't aware of all the adoring looks you were getting. Well, you were a person who didn't know her strengths and denied them when he tells you. It was just unfair how he always has nice things to say about you but you didn't think the same way about him.

He closed the distance between the two of you, placed his forearm above your head, towering over you, that infamous smirk plastered on his face.

"Hey, baby," he said in a low tone, leaning down until your faces were just inches from one another.

"Hello, darling," you returned, smiling slightly. "I've been looking for you, but Iwa said you ran off somewhere."

"Have you now?" He eyed you seriously. "Weren't you just ignoring me a while ago for Ushijima?"

He wasn't able to elicit the reaction he wanted from you, and instead, you smirked at him. "Eh?" you responded in a dragged out note. "I wasn't with Ushijima for the sake of ignoring you, Toru. The world doesn't revolve around you."

He stood back in indignation, your opinions of him coming out to the surface. "So why were you with him?" He was aware that his tone made it seem like he had any right to be questioning you of your actions. He had been vocal about his attraction to you, but it wasn't as if he was your boyfriend. Still, he couldn't care less at the moment.

"None of your business, sweetheart," you told him, your words at odds to the saccharine smile you flashed him. He found himself disconcerted especially when you reached up and started fixing his fringe. "What are you acting so jealous for?"

Ah, he thought. It wasn't his place to be feeling that way but he didn't want to respond to your question in any way. So, like he did earlier, he stormed off, sticking to his original plan to get wasted.

He didn't want to say things he will regret even if you were being hot and cold. For a while now, he had the feeling that you were toying with him, but whenever he was around, your actions towards him were always the opposite of your words about him as of late. One time you'd be telling him to go away, but as soon as he does, you're grabbing his arm, telling him to sit still beside you. You'd be complaining to him one second that he was being an annoying brat and then sit on his lap peppering his cheeks with kisses. You'd be with another guy but tell him you're looking for him. You were confusing to say the least.

Oikawa didn't know what happened after he walked away from you. But when he finally came to, he had a throbbing headache and he wasn't in his room. He looked around him, straining to keep his eyes open as he took in his surroundings, shooting up from the bed when he realized he was looking at the familiar layout of your bedroom.

He had been there a million times ever since you were kids, and he had been a witness to all the changes your little corner of the world had gone through. He couldn't help but smile despite his feelings and headache at the thought that what was once a room that looked like it was made of cotton candy was now in scales of black and white, surrounded with things that were just so you.

But after all the changes, you still had that framed photo of you and him in grade school, where he was kissing you on the cheek while you grinned wide for the camera. You were wearing the matching shirts your crazy moms got you, and he knew you still kept them somewhere in your room.

Yes, he told himself, I was there before anyone else. You’ve always been the closest to him even when Iwaizumi came into the picture. Even then, he didn’t seem to understand you well enough to actually lay emphasis on the fact that you’ve known each other since you were in diapers.

Just then, you walked into the room, holding a glass of fizzy water. You were wearing only his old volleyball jersey, padding barefoot on the floor. You specifically asked for it when you both graduated from high school and you've been sleeping in it since then.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," you greeted, sitting down on the empty space of the queen bed which he noticed was also slept on. "Drink up."

"What am I doing here?" he asked after downing the whole glass in one go, setting it on the nightstand.

"I took you home. Your mom would have killed you if she saw how fucked up you were last night." You brushed his hair from over his eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Like my head's about to explode," he muttered.

You clucked your tongue. "Why did you have to drink so much anyway?"

Instead of answering you, he laid back down on the bed, turning away from you. He had every intention to ignore you after that, but it wasn't long before he felt you coming closer to him, propping your chin on his arm while you draped yours over his waist.

"You're sulking, Toru."

He took the pillow from under his head to hide his head under it. "I don't wanna do this today, Y/N."

"Do what? What exactly are we doing?"

The audacity to ask, he said at the back of his mind, biting his tongue. He didn't say anything and just stayed still.

"Hey, I asked you a question," you continued to badger him. "You've been acting off since a week ago. What's up?"

He refused to satisfy you with a response thinking you ought to realize what it was exactly that you two had been doing, dancing around each other yet skirting around the real issues between you. You couldn't be that oblivious of his affections and you weren't exactly passive either.

Nevertheless, you always had a way of turning things to your favor, and before he knew it, he was falling off the bed after you kicked him off it, nearly landing face down if it weren't for his fast reflexes.

"Y/N!" he whined, remaining seated on the floor as he clutched on his head. He half expected you to laugh at his predicament, but when he met your eyes, he regretted it, seeing the serious expression you had.

"You should know by now that I hate it when I am denied things I want to know especially those which involve me," you told him, cocking your head to the direction of the bed. You sounded menacing, so far from the gentle voice you always used when talking to him. "Stop being a brat. Get back here and talk to me properly."

"You're the one who kicked me!" he protested as he stood up, doing as he was told nonetheless, sitting up and leaning on the headboard.

"So, what's your problem?"

"I'm jealous of Ushijima," he returned promptly his brown eyes also taking a severe quality to it as he eyed you.

You arched a brow at him. "What's new about that?"

"At least before, he didn't have you, too. Now..." He sighed. "You're friends with him now? What was that about last night?"

"Are you serious right now? I had business with the guy."

Oikawa scoffed. "What business are you talking about that he's all smiles at you like that? He only ever smiles around his girlfriend –"

"Exactly," you countered, openly savoring the look on his face when he realized just what he was saying. "He ordered a huge consignment of rare live flowers for his girlfriend so I informed him it had been delivered. Our family as ikebana* artists and horticulturist do that for a living."

"What?"

You shrugged. "You're assuming things again."

Oikawa blinked, feeling defeated at your sound reasoning, but he still has bones to pick with you. "That's not just my problem with you. What are we really, Y/N? I don't get how you're ignoring me and suddenly being sweet. I'm getting mixed signals here. And don't think for a second that I didn't hear about what you told your friends about me."

He narrowed his eyes at you, smirking when he saw how your eyes rounded, finally able to take you off guard like you usually did to him. For once, he wanted you to lose your footing and come clean about what you really thought about him…how you really felt.

"Hmm. What exactly did I say about you?" you asked, the caution in your tone obvious.

"You know it, Y/N. Don't you dare make me jump all the hoops!" he stated, losing his temper.

You shook your head, not understanding where his choleric attitude was coming from. You knew better than to level your irritation with his, and you were so used to his antics that you found yourself almost unaffected by his crusty demeanor. "I really don't know what you're talking about, Toru."

He glared at you. "You told them you think I'm petty because I'm self-centered but I'm insecure. Ring any bells, sweetheart? And don't lie, I heard it myself."

You ran your hand over your face, frustration emanating from you. At the same time, you wanted to laugh because he looked like an angry kitten instead of the fully grown man he supposedly is.

Oikawa didn't know where your exasperation was coming from when he's supposedly the one feeling it but then you nodded.

"I did say that."

"How could you?" he complained, aware that he sounded like a juvenile dipshit but he didn't know how to react to your lack of denial for it. In the end, he just wanted you to say you didn't mean it even if he already got hurt from hearing it.

"How couldn't I, Toru? That's the truth," you stated, no bars held and your voice ringing clear in the air between you. You were really merciless when it came to voicing out what ran inside your head.

"Well, shit, Y/N. Why didn't you just tell me to my face?" He was about to stand up, but you pushed him down, sitting astride his lap so he wouldn't move. He refused to look at you but couldn’t move at the same time cause he didn’t want to hurt you in any way although he didn’t exactly want you close at the moment. "Get off while I'm being nice about it."

"Iwa and I never fail to tell you every day," you started, placing your hands on either side of his face, gently making him look at you.

"You both hate me?" he asked weakly, unable to imagine life without the two of you beside him.

"No." You shook your head. "Toru, no. Of course not. That's just how you are, isn't it? We never asked you to change. We just couldn't help noticing it, and if we don't tell you, who will?"

Oikawa Toru. So used to being fawned over that he doesn't know how to react when he is being criticized. He could admit to that, but it still hurt hearing you say that.

"Sweetheart, I did say those things about you, but you didn't stay long enough to hear the rest."

He pouted, looking away from you. "And what is it?"

You tilted your head so you would be in his line of vision, grinning the moment you realized you had him. "That despite all that, you're a generally kind person who cares a lot for your friends, your team, for me, and even if you don't know how to show it, deep down, you're a sensitive soul. And I adore that about you."

"Really?"

You scoffed. "I love you, Toru. I thought we had an understanding."

"As friends, you mean?"

You rolled your eyes at him, but didn't say anything further, closing the distance between your lips, kissing him fervently and intensely in case the message didn't come across just yet.

He gasped against your lips, caught off guard as usual, but kissed you back with as much fervor, dominating you shortly after your mouths made contact. He nipped and sucked on your lips before shoving his tongue into your mouth, immediately finding yours and delving in to taste you. Oikawa grinned when he rendered you into a panting mess, reveling in the way your hands possessively held him close.

"I waited so long for this," he said against your ear.

"Make up for all those times you missed out then," you told him with a smug grin.

"Heh. You asked for it."

He flipped you both over on the bed making you burst out in a fit of giggles, kissing you stupid, his hands touching everywhere he could reach, your clothes and his mixing in a pile on the floor while he made sweet love to you.

Oikawa Toru. He's self-centered but he's insecure so naturally, he's petty. But he was not just that. He's also the guy you loved to smithereens because you knew that those other facets of him – the good ones – exist.

-the end-

TERMINOLOGIES:

*ikebana (活け花) - traditional Japanese art of arranging flowers

My first try at Haikyuu...god d*mn you, both, @kenkinori and @ushiwaikuroo !!! XD

Before anyone comes after me, the characters are aged up as specified in the story. The beauty of literary creativity!

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY FURUDATE HARUICHI’S “HAIKYUU!”. [20210704]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[codes]

HII MATTHEW!! i think tumblr layout updated cuz i cant see the little bubble for responses + chats ANYMORE AARGHHH!!!

I DONT RLLY HAVE MUCH TO SAY BUT LIKE IM ACTUALLY CURIOUS IDK IF I ASKED U BEFORE BUT WHAT GOT U INTO ENSTARS / KNIGHTS?

also whats ur favourite book!

LAB!!! DID IT RLLY i know that desktop updated bc it looks goddamn terrible

ARGHHH u havent asked me that before! i dont think i have an interesting answer tho. i tried getting into it around 2016 (?) but i hated the gameplay and i kinda succeeded in 2019 right before i got into kny so when the manga ended and kaigaku didnt magically get a spin off series i just switched over to full-time enstars by getting my friend to read the main story w me and voicing the characters' diaogue (im sorry liv, i love you). getting into enstars in general was just rlly good timing tbh, even if the main story isnt the best i rlly liked the rhythm game so i just managed to stick to it. it was over for me once i got attached to the characters tho.

honestly i never fucking guessed id be a knights liker LOL. i got into enstars liking valk bc shu came home in my starting roll and none of them especially stood out to me when i first read their wiki blurbs. i can vaguely recall that i liked arashi first and then i read the main story and had to defend izumi from my friend who fucking hated him (for good reason LOL) and even now i dont rlly know what specifically draws me to them. ive come to appreciate them all for their characterization outside of specific dynamics (izumi and leo probably being the most popular) and i ended up liking their individual characters which then extended to my overall liking of knights as a whole. like a disease. hmmmm idk. i dont exactly consider knights to be found family but i consider them to be each others' closest confidants. knights is home and whenever i read their stories i feel like im seeing the most dysfunctional friend group find themselves in life.

... which i guess is just found family LOL. just to be clear i havent read every knights story bc of other stuff happening in my life rn so thisll probably change as time goes on! its not a good answer to be honest. i just rlly like knights and i love the indirect nostalgia and dopamine hit that they give me.

sorry that was a word vomit, i hate knights actually. my favorite book changes all the time but rn its probably 'aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe'!

[clocks-are-round]

anxiety.exe

I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was thinking of this fic by @highly-opinionated-ramblings as I was writing. Definitely took inspiration from it.

——

Simmons hated himself. Not all of himself, but enough of him to regularly feel insecure. It’s why he sought approval.

Knowing this, it was no wonder he started trying things with Grif. He knew it was a lie, it wasn’t a romance, but being wanted by someone— or at least tolerated— it was a high he couldn’t resist after drinking a few.

Knowing this about himself— understanding why he was how he was— didn’t bring much comfort. With a computer, understanding how it functioned was beneficial to him; he could rewire, rewrite code. He couldn’t rewire his insecurities. He couldn’t rewrite his father disowning him or his mother’s words,

“I don’t know why you’re making things so difficult. I thought I raised a smart daughter. I’m sorry for failing you.” His breath caught. Not a shred of sympathy was in those sharp words. Thinking about it stole his breath and froze his limbs. No control, just like back home. The only bright side to the unpleasant experience was that it usually only lasted several seconds. The longest several seconds that existed.

He wished he could turn his brain off. It was an echo chamber and sleep wasn’t coming. Maybe a shower would help. Make his hands stop shaking.

——

Grif heard Simmons get up, and some part of him imagined him coming over to his bed. He’d sit and they could talk until they fell asleep together. But he’d left the room. He scolded himself for such a stupid daydream.

Grif knew it didn’t mean anything. Drunken kisses, nights together; they were the products of boredom and loneliness. Still, he caught himself thinking things he shouldn’t. Wanting to hold hands. His gaze lingering on Simmons. Y’know. Gay shit.

Once Donut had walked in on them. His bubble bath should’ve taken him longer, but there he was, staring, letting his towel drop in surprise. He loudly awww’d then backpedaled, as if he hadn’t started asking if he could join in, announcing that he’d forgotten to do something— feigning ignorance to what he had just seen, and then quickly leaving the room with a smile. They hadn’t risked doing it in the sleeping quarters since.

Speaking of Donut, he was out cold. His arm up behind him and one knee bent like he was posing. Of fucking course. Even asleep Donut was extra as fuck.

Part of him loathed Donut for being so flamboyant and “gay”. Acting like the stereotype from centuries ago that had recently made such a comeback in media that every gay character had the same damn femme, quirky personality.

Another part of him envied Donut. He was becoming more and more open and unapologetic of those traits. How was it so easy for him to just be himself? To leave himself so open to ridicule? So vulnerable?

Grif could never.

——

Simmons paced the bathroom, so small he was practically spinning in place. He quickly dressed and rushed to his tools.

The shower would have calmed him down if he hadn’t had an epiphany. He couldn’t rewire his insecurities? Oh couldn’t he?

He was a cyborg now for fuck’s sake. He was part computer. Something he could modify to be less… buggy.

He hastily unscrewed a metal plate on his arm. He needed to study the layout before altering anything. Maybe it was a crackpot idea, but the wiring did connect to his brain, therefore, hypothetically, he could alter his own programming. At the very least, minimize anxiety.

======

Grif plodded through the base. He’d fallen asleep outside and for once no one bothered to wake him up when night came. Not that there was any danger being out there. There was only one blue, and it was Caboose for fuck’s sake. With Donut gone and Sarge asleep, the base was eerily quiet. Lately Simmons had been staying up tinkering with nerd computer stuff, so he might still be up. The light was on in their room, so yeah probably.

What the fuck?

Simmons was sitting on the floor, arms clutching his legs.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Simmons didn’t respond. That would be a really weird position to fall asleep in, but considering he’d been staying up lately working on his mysterious “project” (Grif had his fingers crossed it was getting them internet so he could finally watch some porn again) he wasn’t ruling it out. He got closer and saw Simmons’ robot arm was opened up, wires exposed, one wire led down to a small computer-y box on the floor.

Simmons was crying. He’d say sobbing going by the steady stream, but it was silent. His limbs were stone still like he was paralyzed. His breathing was erratic.

This was fucking freaky.

Normally he’d just leave the room and make fun of him for it later, but this looked pretty bad. He wasn’t even saying anything.

Well, the box was new. Grif reached down and pulled the wire from the box.

Simmons spasmed, gagging. His body started shivering. Well at least he wasn’t frozen anymore.

“What’s going on? Why did I walk in on some fucking horror scene?”

Simmons’ mouth flapped a few times before words, stammered and breathless, clumsily poured out, “I thought- I could- reduce- my anxiety-since my cyborg parts- connect to- my brain, but it- it backfired.”

“You were messing with your brain? What the fuck, man?”

“Sorry sorry…” Simmons whimpered.

“Why would you do that?” Grif didn’t care much about the why, he just wanted Simmons to keep talking. Get them both further from that freaky goosebumps moment.

“Computers are the one thing I’m good at. But I couldn’t even get this right. I fucked it up.” He mumbled, “Fucking failure.”

“You’re not a computer, you’re a fucking person.” How could such a smart person be so stupid?

Simmons shook his head. “It could work. I just need to figure out the technology.”

“Promise me you won’t mess with this again.” He wasn’t doing this for Simmons. It was for his own comfort. He was selfish and detached. He didn’t look out for people, he let them down. That’s who he was. Like how Simmons was a know-it-all kissass with daddy issues.

“No, I need to fix— I’m broken code—“

“Promise me!” Grif hadn’t meant to raise his voice but seeing Simmons like this freaked him out.

“Ok.” Simmons’ breathing was still ragged, but at least he wasn’t crying anymore. His hand was trembling.

Hesitantly, Grif wrapped his hand— his left, Simmons’ hand— around, well, Simmons’ hand. Light skin on light skin as if Simmons was holding his own hand. He was tempted to slap him with his other hand, the classic bit in movies that snaps people back to their senses. But he felt like if he did that to Simmons right now, he wouldn’t get the usual angry retort. He’d just get cut trying to pick up the billion shards of glass.

Simmons was staring at their hands. He opened his mouth but whatever he was going to say didn’t come.

“Yeah, guess I shoulda asked.” He slid his hand off of his. Simmons’ fingers reached out and grabbed it again. He leaned forward, and Grif felt the metal hand on his back as Simmons gave him an awkward hug.

He was so close. Not that they hadn’t been close before, but somehow this felt more intimate. It sounded ridiculous as he was thinking it— they’d kissed, they’d had sex— but this felt special. It made him feel warm, but also terrified.

“I think I’m gonna sleep,” Simmons mumbled.

And he did. In less than a minute, his even breathing indicated Grif now had a sleeping nerd on his shoulder. He was impressed at how quickly he dozed off. Must’ve been a hell of an anxiety attack.

Grif scooped him up. If his bed wasn’t two feet away, he would’ve left him on the floor. Thankfully, despite the metal appendage, Simmons wasn’t too heavy. He was tall but all lank. He laid him on his bed.

“Good night, nerd.” His hand paused over him. He gently ruffled his hair. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re not so bad.”

——

An epilogue for those who want to feel worse 😀

——

Want to toss a couple bucks my way? Here’s my ko-fi

[elflion]

i truly don't know what my damage is with comics.

writing them sucks because (even ignoring larger issues i barely know about yet like pacing and stuff) it's just 'how can i distill as much information as physically possible into as few words as physically possible while still maintaining character voice and making the subject even mildly interesting' until i get through the Point and then i have to delete words and rephrase things to make it shorter later on anyway and i’m not even FUNNY it's so insulting

and then doing layouts sucks because i have to think about perception of time and panel size and gutters and the rule of thirds and not crowding stuff but not having a lot of empty space either and i think about math and i count out grid squares and fret about dynamic symmetry while anticipating possible composition within each frame and where words are gonna go before i even have them down and then i have to revise it after putting everything in there anyway, it's so insulting

and then thumbnailing sucks because i have to REALLY think about where characters are in the frame and who's on the left and who's on the right and how to accommodate for height differences and spatial relationships and who's speaking first and where speech bubbles go and the 180 degree rule and in-frame composition and page composition and leading the eye around the page and to the next one and remember diagonals and i have to move things around and probably change the layout and dialogue anyway to make it all work and it's so insulting

and then sketching sucks because i have to worry about anatomy and expressions and clothes and backgrounds and perspective while fitting things into the composition i liked from the thumbnail or potentially change everything to make it look okay and i end up doing like two or three sketch passes it's so insulting

and then lining sucks because i notice all the problems with the sketches and there's SO MUCH to line and everything's wonky and i have to fix it but i don’t know enough about art to really fix it but i spend so long on it anyhow and god forbid i notice a composition issue i didn't see in the thumbnail or sketch phase because i will go back to the thumbnail phase for that panel or page and redo everything to make it passable and it's so insulting

and then colouring sucks because it has to be cohesive and the values have to make sense and i don't know anything about colour theory and there's SO MUCH TO COLOUR and it has to contribute to the composition when possible and i hate boring lighting so much and the fucking backgrounds, are they darker or lighter in value and how do i make them not distracting but also not look out of place or boring? or do i cheat and do a gaussian blur on them or put a white outline around the subjects and WHAT THE HELL IS A COLOUR SCHEME and it takes forever and it's so insulting

and then i'm done and even though each piece of it, separately, made me feel so stupid and was so frustrating and i probably don’t even like the end result, as a cohesive Thing it was somehow really fun and i truly don't even care if me or anyone else even likes it at all and i immediately do it again???? is this Stockholm syndrome? an ancient curse? i’m sisyphus, reincarnated?

whatever it is please don't cure me i'm having a fantastic time, inexplicably

[cozy-neko]

The Cherry On Top • Character Introductions • 01 | And so it begins • 02

With each cup of coffee Y/N placed in the cupholder, a low grumble accompanied the action. Each thunk of coffee that slid into each holder was a little more aggressive and heavy-handed than the task need be, but the air of irritation that emitted from the girl was undeniably strong, and the unfortunate barista that was tasked to make this foul-mood customer’s drinks handed her the last of her order before quickly slinking away.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Y/N continued to grumble under her breath the entire frigid three blocks back to the campus of where her office was located.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” A scowl was evident on the girl’s face the entire elevator ride up the tall skyscraper until it dinged and stopped at the 70th floor. It wasn’t until the doors slid open that Y/N sucked in a shaky breath and plastered a Crest-worthy, Splenda-sweet smile on her face as she exited the lift and entered the bustling office.

“Coffee’s here!” Y/N sang out and placed the two cup holders down on top of the front office’s counter tabletop.

“Y/N’s back!”

A scurry of workers crowded around the 21-year-old girl as she animatedly read off orders off the top of her head and handed them out, one-by-one to its rightful owner.

“You’re the best, Y/N-chan!” A senpai from the tech editorial department ruffled her head, earning a small whimper of protest as she tried to sooth her hair. It wasn’t like she spent twenty-minutes this morning trying to tame her unruly mane for nothing.

“Isn’t Y/N the best? She’s always so good at remembering who gets what.” Another senpai from the lifestyle editorial department chimed in and took a sip from her latte.

“Oh no, no! I’m just doing my job.” Y/N let out a forced chuckle, but it went unnoticed as her coworkers slowly disappeared back to their corner of the office to get back to work.

"Alright, you can drop the act, you fake."

The instant Y/N heard a snort coming from behind, the fake smile that was plastered to her face immediately dropped as she whipped around to face a chestnut-haired male.

"I hate it here," Y/N groaned and leaned her upper body onto the countertop. She let out a huff of air and blew a stray piece of hair away from her eyes. "I can't wait to graduate from coffee intern to staff writer."

"You're meeting with the Chief later today, right?" Oikawa Tooru removed his hands from the pockets of his slacks and eyed the remaining drink leftover.

"Mmm, yeah." Y/N let out a distracted sigh as her thumbs flew across the keyboard of her smartphone for a quick text. With the click of a button, she locked her phone and shoved it into her pants pocket and gave her full attention to the older male. "Chief told me that she had good news for me, and judging by all the overtime work and random projects I picked up over the past few months --"

"You mean bitch work?" Oikawa interrupted, earning a glare from the girl.

"For your information, my 'bitch work' got published last week! And that's besides the point. All that matters is that Chief has noticed that I'm a responsible worker who is willing to go above and beyond my day-to-day tasks and now I'm definitely getting the promotion that's been long due!"

There was a smug grin on Y/N's face while Oikawa rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, you are a hard worker, Y/N-chan, but that doesn't mean you should be doing other people's tasks when it should be their job to do them in the first place."

"Can't you just be happy for me?" Y/N whined. "I didn't graduate from UTokyo with over $100k in student debt just to go on coffee runs. And I don't even get to have my own drink!"

Oikawa sighed and placed a hand on top of the shorter girl's head. "I am happy for you. And proud of you. I hope you get the staff writer position you wanted, and when you do get assigned to my department, I'll make sure to run you dead with ten articles simultaneously." 

There was an evil, teasing glint in Oikawa's eyes which Y/N responded to by sticking out her tongue.

A ding! interrupted the teasing banter and Y/N checked her phone. She let out a quick squeal and a small hop.

"Gotta go! Ayame-san from tech has an article she wants me to write!"

Y/N waved goodbye and scurried away.

"Hey! I asked for a dirty Chai, not a mocha! What the fuck, Y/N?" Oikawa yelled after the retreating girl.

"Serves you right for making me do your coffee run too, Oinkawa!" Y/N's bubbly laughter echoed through the hallway as she skipped towards the tech editorial department.

Oikawa sighed and tugged at the front pieces of his hair. It was already nearing the end of the day, but he was still at least half an hour away from completing his remaining task for the day. He was currently in the middle of copy-editing an article one of his staff writers submitted earlier today when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

Oikawa removed his glasses and pulled out his phone, rubbing his tired eyes while unlocking his phone. It was a text from Y/N.

She must've finally talked to Chief, Oikawa thought. He swiped his thumb to unlock his phone and read the text.

Oikawa grimaced at Y/N’s text. It was obvious the meeting did not go the way Y/N had wanted it to. Sighing, Oikawa stood up and packed his things. Looks like the article was going to have to be pushed back a week; there was a more important meeting he had to attend to first.

Y/N glared at her phone and bounced her leg, a nervous tick that Oikawa absolutely hated whenever she did. Maybe if he was here right now, he would've had the opportunity to scold her. Except his train was running five minutes late. Y/N groaned as she watched another minute go by.

Where's Tooru?

How much longer was he going to make her sit in agony at their favorite bakery and tea shop? 

Right when Y/N was about to hit send on her phone, the shop door jingled, and in waltzed Oikawa.

"Alright, alright, I'm here. What happened?" Oikawa was slightly breathless, having sped-walked from the station and down the block to meet up with Y/N. He rolled up his button-down sleeves and removed his work badge from around his neck.

"So I got the promotion," Y/N began to which Oikawa cut her off.

"Okay, congrats, but that's hardly an existential crisis."

"No! Let me finish!" Y/N stomped her foot once, irritation beginning to seep in. Oikawa rolled his eyes, completely immune to Y/N's temper flare ups. Instead of retorting, he opted to take a sip of her fruit tea. "I got the promotion, but it wasn't the promotion I wanted."

"Did you get placed in lifestyle with Iwa-chan? I heard that department's kind of a mess right now. Iwa-chan told me their lifestyle editor's too busy hooking up with Hanamaki's layout intern to even run the department --"

"Tooru, for kami's sake, I'm begging you to shut up." Y/N groaned and covered her face with her hands. "I'm TK Mag's new gossip blogger. Chief wants me to freaking exploit influencers under the alias of 'Cherry' for the new Cherry on Top blog."

“The new what now?”

end notes: 

→ the timestamps at the top of each photo are irrelevant. the timestamps that you want to pay attention to (or not. it really doesn’t matter) are the ones within the text chats.

→ if you see the word shanchou in oikawa’s and y/n’s texts, i accidentally misspelled the word shachou which means “president of the company.” i was debating whether i wanted to use the japanese spelling or just keep it as Chief. i changed my mind multiple times and decided to just go with the english version but got too lazy to correct the photo. 🤡

→ props to authors who only explicitly write smaus. creating each social post is so time consuming and slightly frustrating that i almost threw my phone across the room.

→ don’t come at me for my nonexistent and try-hard humor. 😔✋this is why i only write angst.

→ no kenma and akaashi this chapter, but they will be introduced in the next!

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[rjhpandapaws]

Something Familiar

Chapter 2: Lessons in Good Faith Tw: PTSD and mentions of torture and death

Living with Daniel was a lesson in many things. A lesson in patience, trust, and it was a constant trial in checking is biases. Daniel was one of the few good humans, and Silas’s fear still ran unchecked. He knew it would take time to work through all of his baggage, and that Daniel was willing to wait. The thing was that Silas wanted to trust him, but couldn’t because there was still too much in the way. Daniel had even given him space after they sealed the contract. Silas bore the mark of it on the inside of his left wrist. A small circle of red, yellow, and blue lining. Daniel had the same on his left wrist as well. It marked them as equals, but it still felt like imprisonment to Silas. He was grateful for the week alone though. It gave him time to get used to his human shape again. He spent a lot of his time on the upstairs balcony watching the world go by with out him. Being outside like this was something he hadn’t been able to do for years. He would have preferred to change shape and wander, maybe even fly; but he was still on the mend and under strict orders not to shift unless it was an emergency. Daniel wasn’t here to stop him. He could have run away, and yet he stayed. Like a good Familiar.

When Daniel came back Silas’s private moments gained a witness, and his nightmares gained an exit. Daniel was always gentle when he woke Silas. He made sure he was genuinely awake and then let him come back to the real world on his own. He would offer to listen and Silas would always turn him down. There were nights that were worse. Nights when he didn’t dream, but remembered. The sleep he got was always more restful on those nights, but waking up always hurt worse. He woke up buried under the weight of all the things he should have done; could have done if he was a better person. On these mornings the only thing he wanted was space to think. So he would quietly make himself coffee and head up to the balcony. Daniel always came up eventually, and he usually brought breakfast with him. He would set the tray down on the small glass table and take a moment to observe Silas. He never said was he was looking for, but Silas assumed he found it because he would go back inside after a while. As a healer it wasn’t in Daniel’s nature to leave things alone, but he seemed to understand that Silas needed time to himself every once in a while. It was something Silas was grateful for. Someday he would let Daniel in, he deserved to know what he had gotten stuck with.

He woke suddenly from a dead sleep and sighed. He could still see Connor clearly in his mind, the fear in his eyes as they were separated almost felt accusing now. He should have stayed. He should have done a lot of things, but he was a coward and ran away instead. Silas got up with a practiced silence and started on his coffee. The house was still dark, but he had the kitchen layout memorized. By the time his coffee was ready he could use the early rays of dawn to make it up to the balcony. Today was going to be long and painful. He leaned against the front railing of the balcony to watch the sunrise and let his thoughts run loose with him. If he got it out of his system now, then maybe he could be something close to composed by the time Daniel came up to check on him. So for now, he would let himself remember. They were good things at first. His childhood, play fighting with his brothers. Learning the importance of the ancient magic they carried with them. The rush of freedom that came from knowing a thought was all it took to become any creature he wanted. The sacred bind that came with choosing a patron mage. There was a complexity that came with choosing to be a Familiar. It was a bond based on sharing strength and it lasted a lifetime. Different from a contract.

He remembered the day everything changed. The day the world as he understood it would come to an end. It was a normal day, he and his brothers woke up and did their chores, but never made it back to the house. Traps had been set in the night and each of them fell victim to one. He remembered waking up in the dark and in pain, surrounded by everyone from his village. All of them had been taken. They were given a week to recover and adjust to their new life before the Conditioning started. Each of them was branded with a unique number. Something that could be used to find them in the event that one of them escaped. The ones that the Conditioning worked on disappeared. Bought by mages that believed them to be Creature Familiars. Those who didn’t take to the Conditioning were tortured until they broke. It went on like this until their anger finally outweighed their fear. Their revolt; if it could really even be called that; was a failure in Silas’s opinion. So many of them had died. Freedom for the few of them that had made it out was paid for in the blood of those who hadn’t. Silas had taken his new freedom and run to the nearest mage. Signed it away in exchange for survival. Even if Daniel saw them as equals; Silas had still done the exact thing they had fought so hard to be freed from. He would have almost rather having died. Almost.

He could feel Daniel’s eyes on him and had the feeling he wasn’t going to be able to get out of this one without talking. He knew Daniel wouldn’t ask outright, but would linger until Silas said something. It Gave the illusion that he had other options; but if he wanted to be alone he would have to say something. “There were three of us, you know, that made it out.” He began and did what he could to keep the emotion out of his voice, “Me and then two of my brothers. I lost them in our mad dash to get out, and now I don’t know if they’re even alive.” He tried to blink away his tears, but they only rolled down his cheeks instead, “After everything we’d been through; I couldn’t be bothered to stay. I ran away like a fucking coward and sold myself out in a desperate bid to survive. Some fucking brother I am.” Daniel was quiet for a long while. This was the most Silas had ever ‘willingly’ said to him. “In a few weeks you’ll be healed enough to handle mildly strenuous activity.” He said eventually, “We could go looking for them if you would like.” Cold heavy dread settled in the pit of Silas’s stomach, “Why?” He snapped, “So you can add them to your collection? So you can have the complete set of the last shapeshifters known to man?”

“No.” Daniel replied sharply, “So you can have some damn closure and a place to stay once the contract is up. I actually want you to be safe, believe it or not.” Silas flinched. He knew Daniel wasn’t the same as the other humans he had dealt with, but he was still afraid. He set down his mug of long forgotten coffee and breathed out a defeated sigh. It was too early in the morning for a fight. On top of that, Daniel hadn’t done anything to deserve this. The contract was a means of protecting him. He understood that. “I’m sorry. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, and yet I still fear completely offering you my trust.” He said after the silence had long since grown uncomfortable, “You may very well be the only human with my best interests at heart and I keep pushing you away.” He took a deep breath and tuned to face Daniel, “I’ll think about it, but that is asking a lot of faith from me; and for now, I think I would rather be alone.” Daniel looked away from him and his shoulders slumped, “I understand.” His voice was almost level, but hurt lingered just beneath the surface, “I’ll be in the house if you need me.” Silas watched him leave and wondered if he should have been gentler. It wasn’t Daniel’s fault he’d gone through all that, but he had nothing else to do with all his anger. Burying it clearly hadn’t helped. 

He picked through the food Daniel had brought up for him and tried to gather himself a little more. Daniel didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of his anger. He wasn’t responsible for what was done to him. He was the only person that was trying to help. The least Silas could do was give him the results he wanted. Even if they were fake. Time to see if he could even manage to be a convincing liar. The sooner he seemed well, the sooner he could get out of here. He didn’t know where he would go, yet, but he was sure he would find his place eventually. On top of that Daniel wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. He could go back to whatever it was he had been doing before Silas had come crashing into his life. It was late in the day when Silas had gathered enough of himself back together to handle being around another person. He didn’t say anything to Daniel when he came back; because he looked busy, and because he simply didn’t feel like it. He got to work on the dishes so he would have less to do later in the evening. “I’m sorry Silas.” Daniel broke the silence after a while, “For this morning. It was insensitive and out of line.”

The laugh that hitched and bubbled it’s way out of his chest was bitter and humorless. It surprised him, this was the first time he had laughed in years. “Was it?” He asked coolly, “Are you rescinding your offer to help me find my only remaining relatives then?” “Well, no.” Daniel scrambled, “I just; I wanted you to know that I meant no offense by it.” He explained and Silas relaxed some, “I feel like I’ve messed something up, and I want to know how I can fix it. I hate seeing you so upset.” “It’s a matter of learning to trust you.” He said and looked down at his hands, “My whole life up until now has been spent in fear of humans. I just have to keep in mind that you haven’t posed a danger to me yet. Sorry for being so... defensive, I guess would be the word.” “You’re alright.” He replied kindly, “These things take time. Even at that, you have a lot of trauma to work through and-” “Daniel stop.” Silas interrupted, “I need someone to listen to me, not psychoanalyze me. Believe me, I am well aware of all my trauma and the power imbalance of our dynamic. I really don’t need the reminder.” “Right.” He agreed with a sharp nod, “It can be difficult to turn my doctor off sometimes.”

“I understand.” Silas replied as he leaned against the counter to face Daniel, “It’s the only way people will acknowledge you, so it has become your primary mode of existing.” He watched with mild amusement as Daniel’s jaw dropped, “You’re more than that to me, you know. You’re the closest thing to a friend I’ve had actually.” “First of all, ow.” He said with a laugh and put his hand over his heart, “Secondly, what happened to not psychoanalyzing each other? I’m glad you think of me as a friend though.” Silas smiled, and it felt strange after not having done so for so long, “I figured that you’ve done it to me enough times that I deserved a turn.” “Fair enough.” Daniel replied as he began to put his things away. “How many weeks?” Silas asked once his curiosity got the better of him, “Until we can leave?” He was quiet for a long while before he replied, “Six, if you mind your limitations; eight to twelve if you keep ignoring them like this.” His smile fell away, “That was a lot more than I was hoping for.” Daniel just shrugged, “You’ve been stubborn. Agitating your old injuries and coming back from your little excursions with new ones. You need to rest.”

“Fine.” He said as he made his way to the bookshelf to go through the travelers’ guides, “I’ll be a better patient from here on out.” He settled on his bed with the books he had grabbed, “Six weeks should be enough time to find a place to start.” “Of course it will.” Daniel replied with a gentle smile Silas felt like he hadn’t been meant to see. It was finally time to venture out into the world. He just hoped they found Connor and Richard before anyone else did. If he lost his brothers he wouldn’t have anyone left. There was no way he could survive that.

[love-in-the-time]

The New Caesar Part 2, Ten/Donna, rated M for sex, language, violence

Title: The New Caesar, Part 2 Author: love-in-the-time Rating: M for language, violence, and sex. Part 1 Here.

In the comfortable room on the top floor, Donna and the Doctor inspect their surroundings more closely. The Doctor pulls out his sonic and scans the room. “Checking for bugs,” he tells Donna, who nods. She seats herself on the bed, the voluminous turquoise fabric of her dress making a bubble around her until it deflates. She sighs.

“I don’t want to do this,” she says.

The Doctor looks up from his sonic. “You don’t have to,” he says. “We can leave.” He starts for the door.

“You think they’ll let us go?” Donna says. “Cesare is suspicious.”

“Who cares?” the Doctor says, and opens the door to find two armed guards posted on either side. They cross two large halberds in his face and the Doctor’s eyebrows raise.

“What do you want?” one of the guards asks.

“What’s this?” the Doctor asks.

“You’re being held for the duke,” the guard says. “Go back inside.”

The Doctor shuts the door. “There’s guards outside.”

Donna looks alarmed, standing up from the bed. “What?”

“They don’t want us to leave,” the Doctor says.

Donna sinks back down, dismayed. “We don’t have a choice anymore,” she says.

They’re in the middle of discussing diplomatic ways to extricate themselves from the situation when there is a knock at the door.

The Doctor will not let Donna answer the door and opens it to discover Lucrezia standing there, framed by two very sharp weapons. She is beautiful, her red hair very like Donna's in the cast of afternoon sunlight across her face. "I am here for the Lady Donna," Lucrezia says. "If you will allow, I would like to dress her and give her a lesson in manners so she can dine with my brother."

The two blades glinting on either side of her give the Doctor the distinct impression this is not a choice, and so he steps aside to allow Lucrezia into the room. She and Donna face each other silently, wary but not hostile. "My lady," Lucrezia says. "My mother tells me my brother has invited you to dine tonight. Am I safe in assuming you have never dined with a nobleman before?"

Donna dips her head so that Lucrezia doesn't see her smile. "No, my lady, but maybe I haven't dined with someone like your brother before," she says.

"That is a fair assumption," Lucrezia says, and an unhidden smile cracks her features. "Very few people ever have. As such, I would like to help you prepare. Cesare is like no other man in many respects."

Donna says nothing, though truth be told she's scared. There is a sudden air of vigilance about her that the Doctor hates, that makes him furious at Cesare Borgia. He should not be allowed to make Donna afraid.

"Well, shall we get started?" Lucrezia asks. "Come with me to my mother's kitchen. Then we will dress you from my closet."

Trying her best to hide her reluctance, Donna follows Lucrezia out of the room, looking back at the Doctor with wide eyes. He looks frustrated and helpless but manages to give her a reassuring smile as she goes. Fuck, Donna mouths to herself as they walk. Diplomacy is terrifying.

Lucrezia leads Donna down to the kitchen again by herself, the layout of her mother's comfortable inn long since memorized. In the kitchen on the wooden table is set a small meal of fish and bread and vegetables, two places set with simple cutlery and napkins.

"Men and women rarely eat together except on special occasions," Lucrezia says, gesturing to the table. "I had my mother put this out for us so you can learn how to comport yourself at my brother's table."

Donna makes a moue of distaste. "Do you think I'm a savage?"

"I think, my lady, that you are from somewhere different," Lucrezia says smoothly. "And as much as my brother loves novelty, he will also wish to see your beauty enhanced with the virtues of a lady."

Donna scowls and seats herself at the table, regarding Lucrezia frankly. "I know how to use a fork and knife," she says. "That's only a new invention to you."

Lucrezia laughs, unperturbed. "Then we are one step ahead already, my lady." She will not allow Donna to upset her.

Donna clears her throat as Lucrezia gestures to a servant who is standing off to the side. The girl comes forward, dressed neatly in red and white, and fills their glasses with the wine from a pewter jug. "Thank you," says Donna to the girl, and Lucrezia smiles behind her hand.

"I see you are of the egalitarian sort," she says, amused. "I did not know that noblewomen thanked their servants for doing their job."

Donna frowns. "I don't keep any servants," she says, and lifts her fork. It is clearly gold, and polished to a high shine, even for their little lesson.

"Ah, so you are unusual in that respect too," Lucrezia says. "My brother will think you gauche if you interact with the servers. He will misunderstand your intentions and perhaps assume you are conspiring with the servants to undermine him."

"What?" Donna asks, bewildered.

"He is a military man and a suspicious man," Lucrezia shrugs. "He will see intention everywhere, even where there is none." She arranges herself at the table, back straight, wrists resting on the edge. "Here is how you will eat," she says, and Donna sighs to herself. Lucrezia cuts a small bite for herself, and lifts it daintily to her mouth. She chews with her mouth closed, and takes a sip of wine only when she has swallowed her food. "If you are a lady," Lucrezia says, "then you are of innate good taste, and it is inherent to your character. You will be appropriate, pleasant, and polite."

Donna swallows her bite of food past a quick, white-hot burst of annoyance. She won't smile.

"Which means you will smile," Lucrezia says. Donna puts her fork down loudly.

"Let me ask you a question, Lucrezia," she says. "Just for a moment you can stop telling me what a rube I am. What makes you think I have no table manners? What makes you think I don't already know all of this? Matter of fact, what makes you think I'm not infinitely smarter and better-mannered than you?"

Lucrezia gives her a serene smile. "That you may be indeed, Lady Donna." Then she frowns. "You must know how strange it is that your name is lady. I can hardly parse how to refer to you."

Donna shrugs wordlessly. She is not inclined to be helpful.

"You may be smarter than me, my lady," Lucrezia says. "My brother and I suspect you are more than not of this place, we think you are not of this time."

Donna nods, her lips pursed. "And you're correct. But you're trying to assess if we are a threat and I keep trying to explain to you we are not."

Lucrezia shrugs. "Perhaps you are not." She also puts her fork down. "My lady, I am not the person you need to fear," she says. "I am nothing to my father except what political advantage he can gain from me."

Donna's eyes flick to the maid standing against the wall with the wine jug.

"The maids here value their heads more than that to repeat what is said in these rooms," Lucrezia says. She gestures to the young woman to put the jug on the table. "You may go," she says. The girl bobs a curtsey and retreats. Lucrezia sits back. "Better?" she asks.

"Yes," Donna says. She picks her fork up again. "Now," she says, making a delicate and graceful cut into the battered fish. "Let's continue." She waits until she's finished chewing and swallowing to speak, keeping eye contact with Lucrezia as she goes. "You said you're nothing but a pawn? Why do you allow it?"

Lucrezia gives her a strange look. "Allow it? And what choice do you think I have? My father is the seat of power in Europe."

"Can't you refuse?"

Lucrezia laughs for real this time, but the sound has no mirth in it. "And then what? Be punished? Do you think my father would shut me in a convent? My cunt is the most valuable in Europe, Lady Donna, and there would be a mighty uproar if I decided to deny it. It's more than my life is worth to do so. However I feel."

Donna shakes her head. "Now that is the difference between you and me, Lucrezia. I am not a commodity."

Lucrezia gives her a skeptical look over a sip of wine. "That is unlikely to be true," she says.

"No, it's true," Donna says. "Where I come from I'm free to marry or not marry as I like, and having children isn't a measure of my worth."

"Oh, so you have no children?"

"No," Donna says. "And times like these I'm grateful."

"Don't you want them? You are a woman, same as me. We're made to be mothers."

Donna shrugs. "I do want them, but I have something now that I might want more."

"So that Doctor man, he won't get a child on you? Does he refuse?"

"No," Donna says. "He won't, and I refuse." She forbears to explain the finer points of the genetic incompatibility of humans and Gallifreyans, nor to discuss much about the species difference. He appears human to them and that's enough for Donna. Lucrezia has clearly not even questioned the assumption that Donna and the Doctor are married, or at least are on intimate terms.

Lucrezia seems to be puzzled by this for a moment, and then shrugs. "Whatever your reasons for not having children, I have more than one child, and will doubtless have more." She chews contemplatively. "I cannot decide if I envy you."

Donna shrugs too.

"There is nothing like holding a child of your own body," Lucrezia says. "That love is unmatched, even with a man you might have given your life to."

There is a little silence where Donna swallows the fragmented memories of the Library computer simulation, her little twins who disappeared, and the baby they discovered at Lincoln Abbey in the eleventh century, the children they had come across in their adventures. "In any case," Donna says, to fill the silence before it becomes uncomfortable, "I have none now and I have no way of knowing what the future holds."

"That uncertainty I do not envy you," Lucrezia says positively. "I am a Borgia. I know what my path is."

Donna seems unmoved by this. "Am I fit to be seen with your brother yet?" she asks.

Lucrezia looks her over. "Not in that dress, it's not for supper. But it seems you can use a fork and won't talk with your mouth full."

Donna shrugs. "I had a basic education."

"Then let us progress to the next stage," Lucrezia says, getting up from the table. "I'll dress you from my closet. It may help for you to wear something he likes."

"But what does he want from me?" Donna presses, and only follows Lucrezia reluctantly when the younger woman turns to look at her expectantly.

"Information," Lucrezia says simply, and leads Donna down a long hall and into a suite of rooms she hasn't seen before. The walls are frescoed with bright scenes from Greek mythology, and there is a small painting of Lucrezia attired as a saint in a frame by her dark wood prie-dieu, which is upholstered in rich red velvet. There are tiles in colorful patterns everywhere, on the floors, lining the windows, and even where the walls meet the high ceiling. The effect is undeniably elegant, and Donna takes a moment to admire Lucrezia's good taste.

"Oh, the tiles," Lucrezia says when she sees Donna looking around. "My father's favorite artist is Pinturicchio, and he created these rooms for my mother and I." She opens a dark wood wardrobe, and even Donna, irritated at being seen as incompetent, draws in a breath at the rainbow of fabrics before them.

Lucrezia looks closely at the gowns, and then at Donna, noting her coloring and her height, and pulls out a dress of sky-blue silk, embroidered with an eight-point star of pearls at the bodice and two thick lines of gorgeous gilt knotwork running down the skirt to the floor. It has a vivid royal blue overdress, with pearl clasps at the shoulder. Donna has never worn anything so beautiful.

Another anonymous maid appears to help them dress this time, a different girl than the dinner lesson. She makes no sound except to clear her throat lightly or to get Donna to turn one way or another. She removes the turquoise gown and jewelry, and seems satisfied with Donna's chemise and stays. Together Lucrezia and the made slide the silk gown over Donna's head and lace it shut. Lucrezia, with a mischievous grin on her face, adjusts the bodice so that Donna's breasts are displayed to good effect, high and rounded. "Cesare will love that," Lucrezia says, and Donna attempts to not be uncomfortable at a sister saying that about her brother. They slip the vivid blue overdress around her shoulders, pinning it with a diamond brooch at her waist. Lucrezia gestures to the maid, who brings forth a jewelry box that smells of cedarwood. Lucrezia peruses the jewels inside and selects a gold and diamond necklace, small diamond earrings, and an exquisite gold bracelet studded with sapphires. They pull the net from her hair and arrange the curls artfully into a new style, leaving one long curl to rest over Donna's shoulder, a foil for her décolletage.

The final product is, as Lucrezia herself admits, absolutely breathtaking. Donna looks like a portrait of a lady. "I think you will do splendidly," Lucrezia says, satisfied with her work. She adjusts Donna's necklace so that the diamond catches the afternoon light fading into the sunset. "Now," she adds. "I will not have him making a fool of himself addressing you as Donna Donna and so he will call you Donna Dottore since you refuse to tell us your surname."

"My surname is Noble," Donna says and Lucrezia shakes her head.

"Your name means 'noblewoman' and that is not a name. All the more reason for my brother to suspect you."

Donna feels a renewed pang of fear as she looks herself over in the silver mirror. She isn't sure how to convince any of them of anything, since they seem inclined to believe only what they want to, or what they had conjectured themselves. Even a pretty dress couldn't save her if Cesare decided she and the Doctor were lying. Lucrezia, though she calls herself a pawn, is hardly without power and influence and Donna is afraid of what she could tell Cesare. No doubt every word of their interaction would be repeated.

Lucrezia pronounces herself satisfied and gestures to the maid. "You may return her to her room," she says, and the maid bobs a curtsey to both of them. Donna has no choice but to follow.

TO PART 3